On that note, here's the Link of the Week:
Basically, anyone who is in love with me like Murph112, has stellar taste and should certainly be commended. Plus, she's willing to wear this outfit, which earns her a gold star.
In other news, I put a tupperware container full of arugula in the kitchen refrigerator and who should make a comment about it but OrthoJew? Using her highly selective lack of reasoning, OrthoJew picked it up, assumed it wasn't mine, made some ugly face and said, "Wow, someone brought spinach."
"It's mine, but it's not spinach. It's arugula. You don't like spinach?" I responded, pretending that I even slightly care about her produce preferences.
"I do, but people shouldn't be eating it right now."
"No, the whole scare was over a few weeks ago. You can eat it now."
"They're not serving it in any restaurants."
"Funny. I just had it the other day. Spinach Paneer at an Indian place."
"Well, I like it but I don't want to die."
"I'm still alive."
This is what conversations are like with her. Well, that and this:
"Oh, the Publisher's not here?" She asks while standing at the door of his empty office. I'm wondering if she just wants to hear herself talk because clearly he's not here.
"No, he left."
"When you say he left, do you mean that he left like he was going to the bathroom or that he was leaving for a while?"
"Honey, I'm just not that deep. If I say he left, he left."
Corresponding with OrthoJew really is this painful. I came in today with a headache and thought that I wasn't in the mood to make fun of OrthoJew. I was wrong.