I’m still recovering from my Blogher Adventures, I must admit. I’m This week has been made up of day of dizzying tiredness, followed by a day of relative normalness where I thought I was recovered, only to be followed by a day of dizzying tiredness.
If you can have jetlag from flying within your time zone, then I have it.
So, that is my excuse for this very disjointed post of random bits and pieces of life.
First of all, I have a confession. I have a guilty conscience and I must purge it to find recovery.
I parked here at the Galleria today:
a) TECHNICALLY, I still have a small child. I’m not QUITE sure what constitutes a small child, but she’s still shorter than Jen from The Little Couple (whom I’m assuming isn’t allowed to ride any rides at any theme park), so that’s my justification.
b) It was
starting to sprinkle raining.
c) There were TWO open spots. I only took up one.
However, despite my justifications above, I still find myself feeling guilty for parking in the special spot.
Maybe it’s because we’ve just advanced beyond the stroller-at-the-mall stage. Maybe my conscience is berating me that if you don’t have to lug a stroller in and out, you don’t deserve special treatment.
But the problem is that the sign is too vague. Most of these spots are only reserved for pregnant women (I remember parking in one of the preggers-only spots THE WEEK that I found out I was pregnant with Ali – and sticking out my stomach and putting my hand on my back as I walked into the store, so as to illustrate that I fully deserved my reserved spot.)
At any rate, this situation begs the question:
What constitutes a small child?
Or, more appropriately, at what point do you no longer deserve prime parking?
Secondly, since it has been a total of (gasp) SEVEN days since I have had Ali on my blog, so I figure I’m due a mini-mommy-story, right?
My friend Christen is relatively new to Birmingham, and she asked for a list of places that she needed to experience that are unique Birmingham cuisine. And for our lunch yesterday, she chose Chez Lu Lu, one of mine and Chris’ favorite haunts while we were dating.
And it is a very datey-feeling restaurant, as Ali and Luke discovered:
And, luckily, Luke is a real gentleman. He didn’t even attempt to steal her sippy cup.
And lastly, I MUST share with you this advertisement that was on the Coke machine when Ali and I stopped by work yesterday:
I personally don’t think that “Cemetery” and “Cookbook” Should EVER be used in the same sentence. Especially with a title like “A Taste of Yesterday.”
But, since it was, I just have to go there. Don’t hate me.
“Add a dash of cremated Oliver, followed by a pinch of buried Matilda. . . stir with a pall bearer rod, pour into a casket, and bake on LOW in the crematorium for 1 hour. Once baked, sprinkle heavily with a topping of cakey-dead-people-makeup. Serves Six, but most likely none, as there will be no appetites left.”