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This is the only souvenir I got for myself during last week's trip. We got carryout sushi from Noble Fish for lunch on Wednesday. It's a little sushi counter tucked into the back of a Japanese grocer. I came away with a set of kiddie chopsticks adorned with monkeys for Clara Jane, some sour orange gum, and my new tea mug. By next week I predict that drinking tea from any other mug will give me the shakes.

And yes, the mug lacks a handle, like most Asian tea mugs. You know why? Because they know something us impatient Americans don't: if the mug's so hot that you require a handle to hold it, that means the tea within is too hot to drink and you're going to burn your tongue, you dumbass. As one who has a perpetually burned tongue, I think this was a wise purchase for me to make.

B., Clara Jane and I went to the Rock & Roll Craft Show on Saturday, which was awesome. Clara Jane got a cool new doll:

The doll's a female Robin Hood with an anime-style face, clad in purple felt. Clara Jane thinks she's the bee's knees, and she's right. I wish the gal who made her had a website, because every little kid needs one of these awesome dolls.

I'd like to take a moment to profess my love for my pal PKB. You all know I adore her. She's having a rough day. Considering that she made dinner for my family last night - she never cooks, but you wouldn't know from the yumminess of last night - she shouldn't be allowed to have a rough day. C'mon and give her a hug! She might give you some kick-ass sangria in return.

There's one thing that's a little irritating today, other than the unfairness PKB is experiencing. It's minor, though. Clara Jane was on the wait list to take a toddler's bug class at the butterfly house. The class is at 10 AM today. I got a call at 9 AM, informing me that there was an opening available for her. That's all well and good, except we live 30 minutes away and had just rolled out of bed. No bug class for us. To vent our frustrations, maybe I'll teach my own bug class. It will involve a lesson on what happens when Mr. Ant meets Mr. Magnifying Glass, which is exactly why I should make every effort to let others teach my child.

Despite that, I'm feeling generous. My Flickr link is back on the sidebar.

I'm reading the worst book ever. It's also listed on the sidebar. I could list it here, but I don't feel like giving such a piece of crap any more free publicity than I already have. In the past, if I found myself disliking a book, I had no qualms about ditching it. But this year, I've opted to make an an Amazon Listmania! list detailing every book I complete. It's changed my mindset, and not in a good way. I find myself yelling (inside my head, of course), "I hate this book! But my God! That's precious reading time I've wasted and if I quit, I'll have nothing to show for it on my list!" I spent hours yesterday with my nose in this book not because I love nothing more than curling up with a good book on a lazy Sunday, but because the sooner I muddle through this shitheap, the sooner I get to check it off my list and move on to Marley & Me, a book that guarantees a different kind of moaning and wailing. My dad couldn't finish it because it made him miss his dog, Mindy. You know, the yellow Lab hybrid who once ate a ride-on lawnmower.

And on that note, take a gander at the gorgeous, dearly departed lawnmower-nosher as she prepares to eat my dog: