Soda jerk.

It's funny because I really like good food. I like expensive ingredients and fresh, seasonal produce. I like going to restaurants and trying new things. I like having dinner parties and fiddling with recipes. So why is it that I cannot end my love affair with soda? Break free from the taunt of Taco Bell? My crap indulgences, once few and far between, have taken over my life lately... Even amidst all the wonderfulness spring and now summer have to offer, and the screams from my poor belly that just can't handle even that rare cheeseburger. Hell, I've hardly even taken full advantage of the Farmer's Market. But do I have nacho cheese in my fridge right now? You bet your ass I do. I said it a few months ago and now I'm saying it again. I need to clean up my act, or else I'm in danger of losing whatever tiny shred of food snob status I may have snagged for myself (and, the whole, don'tfitinpants thing). So here it is my friends, with this salad and fruit lunch... my solemn vow -- by my 30th birthday, I'll be a new woman! If I haven't made some strides, I hereby give you full permission to give me a (little) smack. Wish me luck!

Now that that is taken care of, it would be a shame not to note the lovely, friend- and family-filled week I've had. Wednesday my California relatives were in town, and, joined by the always awesome Aunt Sandy, I spent the evening with Aunt Karen and my cutie pants cousin Alex, who, at 14, towers over me by what seems like a foot. Friday, my California friends made their way down to AA, and thus commenced BBQ Danceparty 08. Me, Birgit, and Brad got the day started right with a few delicious drinks around 12:30. Melissa and Shawn arrived around 2:30, where we killed the rest of the drinks, some nachos, and fired up the grill (I did make it to the market last Wednesday and was able to make a yummy all-local, vegan salad and a plate full of local grilled veggies). After a several-hour reprise in the AC for some Dazed and Confused (ok, and a little Buck Angel, too) and a few naps, we made a quick trip to the liquor store and hit the deck just in time for our own personal fireworks show. Not sure where they came from, but they were pretty impressive and went on for at least a half-hour. While poor George wasn't a fan, it made the evening festive and provided the perfect jumpstart for a little running man, ass shaking, and all around annoying the neighbors with '90s hip hop. After recovering the next day, there was pool time with Kate and Birgit, followed by a delicious-as-always meal at Prickly Pear. Today, I figured my skin needed a breather, so I've been taking in some reading in the shade while the pooches cautiously navitage their just-filled-up pool. Sigh. Why does the weekend ever have to end???

PS You'd be best off avoiding our Omen-esque backyard for a while. Thank you, latest wicked storm.