After returning from a fruitful trip to France this summer (and by fruitful I mean I only ate fruit... most of the time,) I started having sever stomach pains. I thought I was having a baby, only I knew this wasn't true unless it was another immaculate conception because my love life had been just that exciting prior to this. Then I thought maybe it was a food baby because every time I ate I would be in severe pain. Birth this FOOD BABY already! As it turns out, it was just gallstones. Damn gallbladder. I've since had that little bitch removed. Whew! ZOMG if you know what I mean...
Oh, so back to Paris. I love that smelly place. Really. It would have been perfect if I wasn't allergic to literally everything I came in contact with. Apparently everything either contains peanut flour, shell fish, or some other unknown contaminant. Paris, je t'aime. I actually mean that because if I could figure out a way to deal with the allergies I would love to go back. But living on fruit and cheese for an entire month was hard enough, albeit delicious, but I don't think I could do that for any length of time.
ZOMG! I need to stop neglecting you peeps. I'll be back soon.... enough ;)