I arrived in New York late last night for a weekend wedding of one of my high school circle of friends. Got in just late enough to have a glass of sangria with the boys and their significant others. I'd like to give a shout-out to the Wendy's in Rocky Hill, CT. Yes Wendy's, you decided to hire a guy for the front register who was either severely brain damaged or had his body ravaged by years of drug and alcohol abuse. This basically meant that he moved at slow motion. Which normally I wouldn't mind, but I was racing the old GPS estimate of when I'd get in and I could just see that clock ticking upwards as he looked for lids for some lady's chili.
But I've been ensconced in my parent's place mostly due to the torrential rain, need to iron before the wedding, and some infomercials that were pretty choice. I heard from a reader last night that I don't blog too often. And she has two kids, so I guess there's no excuse. Sorry Aloha. I'll do better I promise.