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Yep. That’s why I haven’t written in a week… Saturday the 21st, I turned the big 2-5. My parents gave me eye-cream for my already coming-in crow’s feet. (James says we’re imagining it, but I definitely don’t look like I’m 18 anymore. I’m aging, and it sucks.)

We went up to Portland for Thanksgiving the day after and stayed there until I came home Monday morning after an all-night flight. There was a lot of dangers there for a spoiled woman like myself:

1) I’m defensive when I’m up there. My parents were actually well-behaved, but I felt like I was making up for lost time. Normally they’re pretty insulting towards me (not that they mean to be bad-natured, they just like to pick on people), but this time, not so much. So, I think I overly teased them, as is my normal demeanor when I’m there.

2) Diet? Forget about it. It possibly started at Outback Steakhouse on my birthday—the gorging festivities—but it probably actually started when I went out with James’ best friend’s wife to a double feature of the new and old Twilight movies on the 19th, where I feasted on a large Dr. Pepper, popcorn, and M&Ms. I *shared* them (not the Dr. Pepper), but I imagine I still added at least 3,000 calories to a place where they didn’t need to go. My stomach.

Afterwards—crab fests (Dungeness crab is in season there), chocolate cheesecake, Thanksgiving, French bread at every meal… Makes me wonder why I wasn’t fatter when I was young. James and I joke that we ate so richly last week, we were lucky that all we gained was weight. We’re lucky we didn’t walk away with the gout.

3) Spankings? Ha. Where could we do it? My parents are INCREDIBLY nosy and we don’t have a car up there. We can’t even have *sex* in my family’s house, for god sakes. We tried, mind you, while they were out, but then my father came home from work early and started calling our names, and seemed generally hurt that we didn’t answer right away, like we were avoiding him or something. We had sex only once. In the middle of the night, to the sounds of their snoring… Sigh. Anyway, in case you didn’t get the hint: spanking = impossibility.

4) James was sick… The whole time. He’s still a little sick. Hopefully he doesn’t have bronchitis or swine flu. I might be getting a touch of something myself. Anyway, when James is sick, James doesn’t do well at roasting my tush anyway. He likes to lecture, and he can’t do that amongst the coughs and the sneezing.


I suppose so. James told me that he expects that I make a food journal and actually maintain a healthy diet to write in it by the time he gets home from work. I have a huge pile of laundry that he expects done AND I have to write, because I have a short story due at this week, and he wants me to write at least a chapter’s worth before bed tonight, “or else”. So—there’s definitely potential.

The dieting, to me, is most important. Yeah, I like to make Christmas cookies, but I need to behave. We’re going to Florida next month and I don’t want to look like a cow when I’m there. I need to lose any weight I gained in Oregon, plus some. And I can do it. Stay tuned.

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