I'll know where my strangulation marks came from, anyway

Thursday night: Whole Wheat Pasta with Broccoli from the Whole Foods cookbook. Doesn't look like much, but come on, it's pasta. It's not bad. Actually, with the parmesan and pine nuts and olive oil and lemon juice it's quite nice.

I know it seems like I'm just punishing Dan at this point, but I swear I made this whole week's menu before he sadly requested more cow.

When I looked in the mirror on Friday I noticed what seemed to be a very faint black eye. I have no idea where it came from, but I'm about 99% sure it was Anna's doing, as she is the only person who frequently hits me in the face. For example, when I ask her to give me a kiss, she head-butts me. (When I ask her to give me five, she face-palms me.) Anyway, I figured I should try to make her at least slightly less of a menace, so I managed to swap orange beads from our New Orleans trip for her drumsticks. A safer toy? Maybe not. Less pokey? For sure.

Also, this is as close to religious ecstasy as I have ever seen her.