Holy Mackerel

So, we're back. And, although Mr. Handsome and I had a wonderful time in Geneva and Venice last week, I am now completely sure the world is out to get me. Check it out: Note the look on my face. Clearly, not pleased. And if that wasn't enough, I had to live with a ripped toenail for the entire week because I refused to bring nail clippers on our trip because they are just a huge hassle and take up way too much space. So, instead, I ended up getting my nail caught in the bedspread about a million-and-one times, and had to keep tucking my toe under my foot while traipsing about because the whole thing was unsightly and I'm all about image, as you well know. Our trip to Europe was awesome, despite my apparent injuries. It's actually surprising we actually even lived through it all, thanks to the crazy driving practices of our European friends. What you think is a one-way street is actually two-way, and sometimes four-way. And yes, that is possible, apparently. Because...

So it looks like Mr. Handsome is going to Geneva. As in, that place in Switzerland. And I'm not. So I've been wracking my brains trying to think of a way to make it necessary for me to go along with him, besides the fact that he is lost without me. Lost, I say. Not that he would even remotely realize this perpetual state of lostness because, guys, THAT's just how LOST he is! Mr. Handsome is heading over there to present some nonsense to the United Nations blahblahblah. And what did YOU do today, Mary? Oh, I changed my underwear, picked three toes and called the cops on some guy who thought he could just park in front of our house and use his cell phone, as if I wouldn't know he was actually a spy, or a ninja. Probably both. I begged and pleaded with Mr. Handsome, but alas, he said there was "NO WAY, NO HOW" that I could accompany him because a plane ticket would cost us our firstborn, to which I said, "Where do I sign?". So, as a form of revolt, I...