i. . . i will survive

The weekend went well.

I had my breakfast date with Phil505.

Then he took me furniture shopping and (essentially) let me pick out what I wanted.

He's good that way.

And I love him.

It's chocolate brown.

With aqua in the pillows.

It was love at first sight.

And it's dreamy.

Delivery in 2-5 weeks.

I. Can't. Wait.

Oh, and the pumpkin milkshake from Burgerville was just as magical as I remembered from last October.

Despite its caloric content.

Which you can now find on your receipt from Burgerville.

{Like I want to know how many calories were in a cheeseburger, fries, and pumpkin milkshake.}

OK, if we're being honest here, let's make that a bacon cheeseburger.

On Sunday evening I attempted to bake foccacia bread.

With yeast.

Look out, Betty Crocker.

It looked simple enough.

I've never baked bread with yeast before.

Only with zucchini, bananas or pumpkin.

Now I know why.

Yeast is scary.

Betty, you didn't tell me!

It totally didn't turn out.

Ooey-gooey on the inside, crispy and cheesy on the top.

What the heck?

And I even baked it for longer than it said.

But that's ok because I have two more packages of yeast to try.

I'm not giving up that easily.

And, anyway, yeast comes in a handy-dandy three pack.

If I fail at two more attempts then I will forever buy my foccacia bread from the grocery store bakery.

Yesterday was picture day.

I survived.

First I was afraid.

I was petrified.

Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side.

Sorry, off-topic.

I think all teachers should get to go home on picture day with a shirt that says "I survived picture day."

{You won't get that if you're not a teacher.}

My school switched photographers this year.

She took three poses of every child.

Yes, three.

And sibling shots were also an option.

Come! On!

Tell me that's really necessary.

Isn't that what Sears is for?

Whatever happened to a basic head and shoulders shot for the yearbook?

That's what I want to know.

. . .and so you're back from outer space.

I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face. . .

Love. Love. Love that song.