Merry Christmas, blogglings! (I've totally decided to call you all 'blogglings.' If you wish to register a complaint, do so now or forever hold your peace.)
No, I'm not late, I'm part Ukrainian - Merry Christmas to everyone who uses the Julian calendar instead of the Gregorian calendar. I celebrated the same way my family has celebrated for many years: I made pierogies for dinner! I went all out, too (relatively speaking). I boiled them, then fried them in butter and onions, and served them with kielbasa. Mia may or may not have partaken in some kielbasa as well...
Also, happy 700th blog post! It's crazy to think that I'm coming up on the three year mark for this blog. Yikes!
Also also, happy 81st follower! And because I ended up with 75 followers before the end of 2010, I will soon be having that bigger giveaway that I promised - keep your eyes open for more details. And for those of you who commented way back in October, I haven't forgotten! I will be reviewing a story soon for Franchise, I swear. I just need to get a few more things finished before I can set aside the time to properly review it. I feel that I need to put more effort into reviewing something that I've been asked to review than I do for a book that I randomly decided to pick up, if that makes sense.
Of course, life wouldn't be life if there wasn't some blah to mix in with the yay... (TMI coming up!)
I wasn't going to make any resolutions to lose weight this year, but two factors have made me change my mind. First, my sister is getting married, which means I'll be wearing a bridesmaid dress in front of people, so I want to look passable. Second, when I squatted down to pick something up from the floor this evening, my pants split. Ugh. So it's time to start working out again.
Also, I've caught some sort of plague (hey, I'm a writer, I can call it a plague if I want to - a 'cold' is far too common), and it's making me cough a lot. Tonight, I coughed so hard, I threw up in my mouth. Ew. Can I please be well now? On the bright side, a new place never feels like home until I've thrown up there, so now my 'new' apartment doesn't need the descriptor 'new' anymore! (And yes, I realize that's one of the craziest requirements for 'home' that exists.)