Oh my god, you guys, I almost died this week. Okay, so that’s a total, total lie. Maybe what I wanted to say was that I wanted to die this week. Anyway, we had weaning problems followed by some kind of Strudelly intestinal flu. But we are getting better.

Weaning totally kicked my ass. Or I was perhaps kicked in the taco. Or, as I finally implored my companion to stop calling them, my “lady nuts.” Boy, have I ever been so sorry that I coined a term around here? Perhaps not.

Today I got that manic injection of energy that you get after weaning. The one that makes you go, “I have SO much energy as a normal, non-pregnant, non-nursing civilian. Why did I want to have children? Maybe I imagined that two years of tiredness. Maybe I don’t have children at all. Santa, is that you? Nice rack. I can see Mexico from here. Maybe if I run for it?”

ANYWAY, people, I think if the urge to procreate strikes again I’ll just get myself a purse dog. Because if you get tired of those, you can get yourself one of those new badger-chinchilla hybrids, at least that’s what PARIS does. I’m just saying.

So I am just writing you, MF diary, to tell you that I have:

1. Lost ten pounds in water weight this week. I have peed oceans, now that it’s not shooting out of my boobies.

2. Become a little psycho now that my energy’s come back. There may be, at some point in the near future, some mosaicing, or some appliqueing, or some gold-leafing. Soon coherence will return.

3. Bought two pairs of cute sandals at Nordstrom today. One of the labels may have said Jessica Simpson on them. I AM GOING TO HELL. I will miss you.

I think I was deeply high when I bought these. Who buys shoes like these? Oh, it’s me. Disco gladiator? I don’t know. How do you make the strings stay up?

Also, Strudel with her new sock monster, a birthday gift from Supa. She loves it!