No rock nor roll

I realized that I didn't have any good new photos to upload for today's post.

I quickly determined the reason is likely because I barely got out of my pajamas the entire weekend.

This fact alone made this weekend rock like no weekend has rocked in a long time. Dude, sometimes a girl just needs some time to sit around in a pair of men's pajama bottoms adorned with cupids.

And I rocked the cupid pants this weekend!

I ate, too. Bill made yummy chicken and salsa soup Friday night and yesterday he made pork and green chili casserole AND baked chocolate-chip cookies. It's a very good thing I was wearing elastic-waisted pants!

We watched Wallace and Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit
Saturday afternoon (I mean what's the point in going out of the house when you can watch claymation?). Delightful, but I think that I began to take on the consistency of Wallace after a weekend of lying about and eating Uber-husband's home-cooking. Oh, and I love cheese, too.

I watched as much Olympics as stingy NBC would show and have — along with every other 13-year-old girl — developed a crush for that adorable almost-man, Shaun White.

I'm sure it's that hair.

Then it was Sunday evening and I fell into bed after hanging with our good friends, Rob and Tracee (Yo, Tracee-Trace, sup girl?), knowing that while I didn't get lots done, I am finally rested. What a glorious feeling.

I'm going to remember this feeling, because it ain't part of the rock 'n' roll lifestyle that I've grown accustomed to.