They say the teeth are the first thing to go.
Actually, they might not say that at all, but this year for my 25th birthday, the first signs of old age set in. My teeth rebelled against me. Stupid teeth. A day after getting a bridge where my front 4 teeth should be (those front teeth had been looking to jump ship ever since I took a face plant and nearly knocked them out when I was 10) I was struck with the worst mouth pain of my entire life. It was terrible. I was like that crazy woman in labor who grabs the doctor by the throat and demands more drugs...only I demanded them via the phone, and my pain was in my mouth, so my annunciation probably wasn't as good. Anywhoo, after my face swelled up like a balloon just in time for my Elvis-themed birthday party I seem to be pretty much back to normal. I am just here to confess that my lack of cooking-goodness is all due to the fact that I have been drugged up for the past two weeks on pain meds. Anything I did try to cook probably wouldn't go so well...and writing about what I cooked...well that would have been impossible and probably incoherent.
Some good things came out of my fiasco of a birthday:
Al Dressed like Elvis. John and Corrine gave me an Elvis wine bottle holder. And we made a new addition to my kitchen gadget family.