Woe is me. Oh woe. My poor belly. And throat.

Yesterday I had four slices of cheesy, cheesy pizza during the United Way fall campaign launch, because it was the only food around me all day and I was running off my feet to get things organized. Followed by the wedding rehearsal (which went really well, I thought — the mother of the bride cried when I read the poem) after which we went for dinner at Leoni’s, which consisted of creamy caesar salad, some lemon chicken in a cream sauce, cheese tortellini, and tartufo for dessert. So. Much. Dairy.

I am sad to report that a great deal of this delicious meal was unfortunately sacrificed to the mighty Toilet Gods last night, between one and three a.m. Pauvre Justin had to suffer through my wretched whimpering and other, more gruesome bathroom noises. According to the sagacious philosophical musings of Wayne Campbell, however, JVL is now officially mine forever, since as of this morning when I woke up next to him, he had not yet bolted despite witnessing convincing audio evidence of me blowing chunks.

I am really, really looking forward to the wedding this weekend. Eaton Hall is beeeeautiful, and the people are lovely, and we’re all going to have a great time. Just hope I remember my digital camera so I can post some photos of everything when I get back.

Wayne: “Garth, marriage is punishment for shoplifting in some countries.”