Getting better....

I just got the word that Grandma is doing better.  She did have a minor stroke but is now back to being awake and alert, so thank you Lord for that.  My dad said that she should be released in a couple of days so she can get back to home to her babies (the kitty cats).  Whew! 

I have some other stuff to tell you guys, like how I accidentally ate a bad potato (what is UP with potatoes these days, man?) and something else that I can't exactly remember at the time being but will inevitably pop back into my head while I'm driving and nowhere near a computer (it totally happens to you too right?).  But it'll have to wait a bit, because I can't talk right now because I have to finish packing up this destruction of a room I'm in.  Why am I packing?  Because I'm moving tomorrow.  Did I not tell you that?  Wow, okay yeah, we definitely have some stuff to talk about.  For now, I'm going to go down a handful of ibuprofen (cuz this headache is RAGING yo) and then it's pack city.  But we'll talk later.  Promise.

Jenny out.

***OH WAIT!!!! I remember what the other thing was!  But I'm not telling you now because I am all about anticipation and suspense and DRAMA!  Do you want a hint though?  I'll give you a hint.  It's about a movie star.  And that I saw him.  Up close and personal.  From about 15 feet away.  Chew on THAT for a bit why don't ya?  (Also, it wasn't Brad Pitt so you can calm down. Nor was it Clooney so we can just ahead and make our peace with that disappointment now.)  Ugh, ok, my head is pissed.  Gotta got get that ibuprofen now.  Later.***

EDIT: I am fully aware that Brad Pitt is looking especially goat-like these days, and honestly he's never really rocked my world anyway, even in the Thelma & Louise days, but it was the first name that popped in my head.  I just though we should clear that up.  Thank you for your time.

I Know Who Killed Me....

It was a potato.  A mean, angry, merciless red spud that did me in.  I will warn you that this particular story might be a little on the EWWW side, and I am sorry to share such horrible things with you, but I can't get through this alone.

Let me just say up front, to eliminate any confusion later, I love potatoes. L-O-V-E them.  Thanks to their consistent yumminess, mixed with their cheapness and ability to keep me full, they are a staple in my (often daily) diet.

So.  Last night, I wanted to make some cheese potatoes. (Boil some red potatoes, drain, butter, melt cheese slices on top, yum, trust.)  While choosing my potatoes from the Potato Bowl, I noticed one of them had this (GROSS ALERT!) black, clustery gross thing happening on it.

Me:  EWWWWW!  I think this one has eggs on it!  Or is it just foaming?

Mom:  I think it's foam.

Me:  Touch it.

She totally touched it!  Blech!  And lucky for her, it was foam, because y'all, what if it had been foamy EGGS?!  GAG!

Mom:  It's fine.  Just rinse it off.

(Ok, keep in mind that my senses were all hypersensitive from being all grossed out from the foam and all, plus mom was still in egg mode.)  I rinsed the potato and grabbed a towel to make sure the foam was all gone.  As soon as I put even the slightest pressure on that spot on the potato to dry it, my finger breaks right through the potato into it's mushy rotten spot and white, starchy potato guts came shooting out at me.  My response? Scream like a little girl, throw that potato, and RUN!  My mom's response?  Scream like a grown up and RUN!  She took off down the hall, and after I recovered from my near fatal laughing hysteria, I found her hiding in my bedroom afflicted with the very same hysteria. 

Apparently she thought a critter of some kind jumped out at me in defense of the hypothetical eggs, while I just heard that awful popping noise of the exploding potato.  Oh my gosh, it was just gross, although it's good to know where our Fight or Flight response stands.  Flight all the way.