the only post you'll ever see containing Scott Conant, Lady Gaga, and a hamster eating a radish

I may need to look for another pair of sunglasses. This sun thingy showing back up in the sky is shooting laser photons into my brain and I can't think right with everything going all jagged in there.

On a pleasant note, I realize I'm working on a white screen with white blinds and lace curtains glowing around the background in a room so bright I don't need paid illumination, and my eye isn't all squinty and watery like it usually gets when I'm trying to work through optic nerve assault, so I call that further progress in healing.

Just got pix- someone is sitting in a cart, woohoo!

Actually still in the cart!

Meanwhile in Gotham, Batman is supervising putting away groceries.

I'm also being taunted with pix of a roast in a crockpot, so guess who's going to go buy a roast today and put it in a crockpot? I've been snowed in solid while Scott's been using my car the last 3 weeks for work, and our shelves are about as bare as they can get around here. Even the cheese is dwindling. We've been breaking into the emergency cans and a person can get worn out on tuna pretty fast. That's right, cheese and tuna. All you hoity toity people who are above putting cheese and seafood together (that's right, Conant, I'm talking about YOU), I'll have you know it's the pricey white tuna and Cabot seriously sharp cheddar. The good stuff. But what I wouldn't give for a spring onion right now. Salad weather is nearly upon us, and my cabin fever has reached a point of vengeance. You see me looking across an aisle at the radishes, you better dive outa my way.