My apologies for the silence around here lately but between feeling like death warmed over for most of the past week, and VH’s trip to Korea leaving me (once again) to parent solo, I’ve been more interested in screaming into my pillow than reading the news, much less forming a semi-intelligent opinion on it.

Which is not to say that I haven’t been blogging. I have, just not here. So here’s a sampling of what I’ve posted elsewhere which you’ve probably been too lazy to look into:

At I Think Therefore I Blog:

…And Then It Dawned On Me. An excerpt:

All weekend long I could not escape the feeling of impending doom. You know the one I’m talking about: that tickle in the pit of your stomach, the tension in the back of your throat, the pressure bearing down on your shoulders, the certainty that the ceiling above you — and the sky above it — is bearing down on your helpless ass.
In other words, my mother’s visit is a mere 29 days away.

Also, Rinse and Spit Please.

At Chubby Mommy:

Lessons from the Wii Fit. An excerpt:

You know how exercise is supposed to give you more energy? I’m still waiting for that part to kick in. I’m tired! Every morning when my alarm clock goes off, I am so tempted to hit the snooze button and go back to sleep. The only thing stopping me? My arms are too freakin’ sore to move quickly enough to reach the dang thing before that incessant buzzzzzing wakes up everyone else in the house.

Also, Eau de Moi.

At Queen of Snark:

Like a Bookmark in Your Poop. An excerpt:

So. I’d just finished scrubbing, pre-soaking, washing, drying and folding a load which consisted of nothing besides his underwear. Boxer-briefs, in case you’re curious. And while I folded one pair I noticed the crotch area is getting a little thin… as in, I could see the floor through some of the holes.

(Yes, God did bless my husband in that general vicinity — which might explain why I put up with as much as I do — but, honestly, I don’t understand how the man wears out 3 pairs of his underwear in the time it takes me to wear out one of mine.)

Also, Sign Language.

And, of course, there’s my Pajamas Media column asking Can Starbucks Really Offer “Value” With A Straight Face in response to which the rabid PJM commenters accuse Your Venomous Hostess of being obsessed with what other people think of me.

To quote my favorite cartoon duck: “Dey don’t know me vewy well, do dey?”

So, as far as blogging goes until Monday, the-the-the-the-the-that’s all, folks!