All in the sauce

I'm cooking stuffed chicken with homemade bechamel sauce, drinking a glass of champange... and it's only Tuesday.

Matt and I celebrated two years married (five years total), and I'm sitting here thinking that life's pretty grand. I consider every other relationship such a waste of time, but that's because I hadn't met Matt yet. We all make stupid mistakes, I just dated more than he did. : )

I've found a friend in the neighborhood who can transfer old videos onto DVDs, so we've been having some fun with this! Except that I learned that Sam's first birthday party DVD wasn't properly formatted, and blank thusly (nonstandard variant, just like 'thusly'). Matt just shakes his head at me.

Man, this champagne is spectacular.

I'm planning my next trip, planning my next trip, gotta go, gotta travel, planning my next trip. Matt just went to Miami Beach (rotgut, been there a hundred times), but I'm focusing on the magnificent. I also have enough miles on my credit card to go around the world...maybe twice. I've NEVER used my miles. I'm sickeningly patient. But no more waiting. And no more jaunts to Chicago or DC...I'm over those. I want Europe. I want Envoy Class and Five Stars. I want a captain, a chef and a maid, a sommelier, five-course meals and champagne for breakfast.

Oh golly gee damn!

I want to go put my arms around my sick little boy, and stir my bechamel sauce, keep dreaming...