WOO, Y'ALL!

That's just how I feel right now.

Relieved. A tear or two running down my cheek (from Silver Linings Playbook, not life).

So. It's been a few days. Let me start off with the fact that it was supposed to be less time than it was.

My parents came into town Thursday and we went to see Bill Engvall and Larry the Cable Guy.

See:

Bill Engvall

Larry the Cable Guy

See, I didn't lie.

My parents ended up staying the night again Friday night and we went out to dinner where this happened:

This was dumb. It was a dumb, dummy idea. Stupid.

Future hubby DID NOT beat the challenge (which was to eat this massive 4.5lb burger made of hamburger, pork belly and a fried egg, then doubled again, AND a loaded potato on the side, in 30 minutes or less), not to mention the dang thing cost $18, AND! AND, AND, AND! He spent the rest of the night over the toilet, puking it up!

Sigh. Men.... he did do pretty well, though. I can't say he didn't try.

Anyways. Saturday we had lunch down on 5th avenue at FH and I's favorite tapas restaurant, where we had white sangria...

 

And I didn't take a picture of my food because I just had a caprese salad, and we all know what that looks like. What the hey, in case you don't, here's a picture of one I made a few weeks back:

 

Moving on. We had lunch, then we showed my dad where all his cash is going and took him to where we're getting married. Which is here, in case you want to be jealous (or you're just curious):

 

 

 

 

After that, my parents went home and FH and I just relaxed.

 

Cinco de Mayo rolled around, and FH was working. So, being a girl, I showered, spray tanned and sloppily did my nails out of boredom.

 

 

 

Then comes the fun.

 

 

MAJOR stomach bug.

 

I spent all night Sunday night puking and waking up constantly. I thought it might've been food poisoning since I didn't have a fever, but come Monday morning, that nasty little thermometer up there told me the bad news.

 

So I spent Monday on the couch/in bed, wrapped in my velvet giraffe blanket, watching Matlock and wondering if I'm going to need to puke into the trashcan that FH so nicely put a trash bag in for me and followed me around the house with.

 

That brings me to today. Went back to work. Pushed through it. Made it.

 

I'M ALIVE!

 

Y'all say us little girls aren't tough these days. Psh.

 

Anyways, time for New Girl!

 

Love, peace and chicken grease!