Hello friends. Sorry it’s taken me a while to return. Although, to be fair, I did say that I wouldn’t be returning all weekend. Unfortunately, it wasn’t for the amorous, romantic reasons I had hoped. To be fair, we did get in the couples massage, an afternoon nap and probably one of the best dinners I’ve ever had in my life. And just before the dessert arrived, I started feeling a little rumble in my tumble, if you know what I mean. And if you don’t, I felt like upchucking the glorious meal I just consumed. Mr. Wonderful looked at me, said do you need some air, I said of course not, I’m fine, actually I’m going to go back to the room, see you later.
So, I make my smooth get away, all balanced on my heels and holding back the chunks. I have to ask how the hell to get out of the damn restaurant since I can’t find the damn door on my own. I step outside to the glorious, frigid night air; I round the corner, finding a quiet spot so as not to disturb anyone with the nastiness that I know is coming, and then I relieve myself of $75 worth of dinner and $30 worth of wine. Not my finest moment, especially when I look up and realize I just puked in front of a panaromic window full of diners trying to enjoy they’re ridiculously delicious (not to mention expensive) meal. Yikes to me. I then sauntered off as if nothing ever happened and there was absolutely nothing to see. Because, quite frankly, what else was I going to do. Perhaps a bow, a tip of my metaphoric hat? No chance. Wasn’t happening.
So, I get back to my gorgeous room with ocean views, change into my fat girl pajamas, lie down on the bed and wait for my husband to return, which he does, accusing me of drinking way too much and throwing my Valentine’s meal down the drain. No honey, not down the drain, in the bushes, in front of a huge window, at a super classy restaurant. Get your damn story straight. And at first, I agreed with him. I must have drank/drunken/drunk (what the hell is the appropriate word, I have no idea! Sorry, Mr. Ervin, in case you ever read this again! I know you taught me better than this!!!) too much wine and my body was just rejecting all the rich food. Until after an hour of sleep, I was up again, same story, different venue. And another 45 minutes after that. And so on and so on for the next 10 or so hours and 9 rounds of vomit later. And it wasn’t just coming out of that end either but you don’t need to know about that just like you don’t need to know that it’s still happening. What, aren’t we all friends here?!
And that my friends, is how to ruin Valentine’s day! Now, I know I promised you all the deets on the pot roast I made on Friday and I will share it with you. Just not yet. The belly is still too delicate to think about that. Plus, I can’t find what I did with the damn recipe. It did turn out well, if you like pot roast (not really my favorite) but my husband loved it and the kids tolerated it. So, once I find it, I promise to share (for those that care and for those that don’t, f*%& you! (Just kidding))!
I will also be trying a new recipe tonight that I got from my wonderful friend Emily (hi, Emily – I assume you’re reading this, if not don’t tell me, I’ll live in my own little fantasy world and pretend you are!!). It’s called poppyseed chicken and I’m pretty excited about it.
I’ll be back friends (ala the Terminator – but not as Austrian or big or scary or political). Until then, order takeout or follow someone’s blog who cooks way better than me! xoxo


