Weaning not only sounds bizarre if you say it five times, but it is also, very interestingly, not one of those words that we use to refer to our own behavior. Puppies and gerbils get weaned, but we simply stop breast-feeding. Perhaps it has something to do with our tendency to not transfer guardianship of our young to another species when they are old enough.
Regardless, I have finally [weaned myself off daily blogging, stopped blogging every day, ceased [blog-feeding, breast-blogging]]! It was at midnight this morning, when I was comfortably seated on _____'s lap, brushing my teeth, that I realized I hadn't blogged the day before; but that's another story for a time that will never come.
Two days ago I posted instructions on how to carry out a totally rad party trick. Well, it turns out that _____, of the blog Yesterday Afternoon, also has a tip on how to keep your pants fire-free at cocktail parties. Did you like that idiom? I hope you did. If you know of an idiom that would have actually functioned in place of the one I made up, please let me know by commenting on this post or by calling me on the telephone. No text messages, please.
I have been to a fair few cocktail and otherwise fancy parties. I've found that the most effective way to avoid appearing riveted by the cheese selection is by apportioning yourself a suitably large slice or wad (depending on your proficiency with a cheese knife) at the beginning of the party, scarfing it down, and sampling moderately throughout the rest of the evening or morning. It's a tried and true method.
Deviled eggs, on the other hand, are virtually impossible to resist. I've never been able to crack that egg. Hah. Hah.
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