Remember the Best Meal of My Life (otherwise known as BMoML) at tsk in Newport, RI?

The one with the honey spaetzle that I literally couldNOT get into my belly fast enough?

Ummm….look what Mike brought back for me after his Thanksgiving weekend in Newport:

THE. Honey. Spaetzle.

I can’t even handle it.  I didn’t even handle it.  I ate it in three bites and then cried that it was over and wished I was a mother bird who could regurgitate her food.

WHAT?? That’s disgusting and weird.

And then we exploded a piece of chicken in the microwave.

Life happens.

Additionally:

I died. Literally. Died. On the floor of Trader Joe’s.

What the eff Trader Joe’s????  Are you TRYING to make me live inside your store?? #occupyTJs

And:

There is a very real possibility that Mr. Trader Joe lives inside my brain and it kind of freaks me out.

Finally, I chopped off all my hair (think this) and have spent the past 48 hrs flipping/bouncing/poofing my new bob like a diva and/or bimbo.  I don’t hate it.