It is not my intention now, nor has it ever been, to find my blog morphing into a daily log of the various places, times, and situations in which I find myself yuking into my trusty purple mixing bowl. (Pregnancy Decree Numero Uno: Trusty Purple Mixing Bowl is hereby relegated to a lifetime of servitude in this capacity only, and at no time in the future shall be permitted to enter into any different profession.) Clearly, this blog is a masterpiece of creativity, subtlety, and intellectual discussion of the fine things in life. However, I must admit this blog is also to serve as the journal and history of me and my people, and therefore I would be remiss in neglecting to mention such a pervasive and all-encompassing aspect of my current life. So as to not offend my naturally delicate sensibilities, I shall be brief. Note the classic simplicity of the final phrase in what would be the entry for March 6, 2009 in my yuking log blog, were I crude enough to have such a thing.
"And that is how I found myself at both the start and finish of my day: in a moving vehicle, emptying the sparse contents of my stomach into my trusty purple mixing bowl."