I figured now is as good a time as any to start blogging again, maybe because Tony's barfing. Last night, after he came home from his friend Howard's, he told me he wasn't feeling well.
"We had club sandwiches, hot dogs, fries, and then Howard made ice cream sandwiches with croissants," he told me. "But I don't think that's why." This was apparently confirmed by Howard, when he e-mailed later to say he had ham after Tony left.
So I spent the day alternately with my hands over my ears, at the drugstore buying Pepto Bismol, Gravol and Powerade, and hunting obsessively for wedding dresses on the internet. I'm bad with barf, you see. I don't know how I'll ever have children. When I was a kid, I remember stumbling into my parents' room, at 2 or 5 in the morning, to inform them that I'd thrown up all over my bedroom and would they kindly do something about it. I just assumed it was their job, like everything else, but since then I've gained so much appreciation for all they've done for me. I won't get closer to Tony than I need to to give him apple juice. I even made a trip to the mall specially so I could use the bathroom there instead of ours.
I'll fill you in on the wedding dress stuff soon. Wedding dresses and barf shouldn't be discussed in the same screen space.