Yada, yada, yada.

I really envy those who can sit here in front of their computers and just write about how they feel or what the hell they've been doing for the past few days. I feel that any time I try to gather my thoughts into anything somewhat coherent, everything just blends together like some awful smoothie. Ah, whatever.

I miss feeling light-headed in the morning after that initial oh-so-satisfying first drag. It's been almost exactly a month. Except for all the black stuff I've been coughing up, I really don't see good from all this. I kid. I know it was definitely time to quit. 15 years of killing myself slowly. Why would anyone pay to kill themselves with cigarettes? All you have to do is get married, and you can do it for free.

I took my mother to my sister's restaurant for her birthday. The Hil is about 20-25 minutes south of the airport (my sister swears it's only 10-15). So, from Gwinnett, this sucker's about an hour away. So, I'm driving my mother down to the Hil thinking that this car ride is going to be filled with constant nagging about marriage and what not. Let's just say that the conversation on the way to her birthday dinner was interesting. We'll leave it at that. My mother is mad cool. Happy birthday to the most important lady in my life, happy birthday mom.

If you've ever been to the Hil, you'll know that the food is excellent.


Cauliflower Bisque

Pizza topped with grapes and arugula

Mushroom meatloaf with glazed carrots


Trigger fish and cauliflower

I ordered a nice bottle of French pinot. My mother was buzzed off two sips. I drank the rest.