Me an Boba
Did I ever tell you about the time I hung out with Boba Fett? Yeah, well. You know what they say: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

I’ve been working on the feking-arsh PamNewsletter 05 ALL DAY. I don’t know why I’m in such a panic. It’s still November fercrissakes. It just seemed imperative that I get the thing done today.

I’ve been sitting here since about 9am just trying to get the CSS template the way I want it. Too bad I have no clue what I’m doing. In case you are curious, CSS is (simplified) the thing that makes the online newsletter look the way I want it to. It takes me about 10 minutes to write the text, 30 minutes to do the pictures and 15 hours to lay the thing out for the web plus another 12 hours to lay the thing out for the luddite paper version. And not like it looks so pretty. Oh well. When I was a girl we didn’t have computers. I’m unfrozen caveman legal assistant: your modern ways, they confuse and frighten me.

So here’s the update.

I cooked the Thanksgiving dinner. Yeah, sure it was only for 3 people, but I could have handled 10. I said I made mashed potatoes for 30 and Priscilla looked into the bowl with doubt and I said: I already put twice that much in a container in the fridge.

I’ve only done the whole dinner myself a couple of other times. I’m usually the assistant and Erin and Mom run the show. If there is any doubt: it turned out awesome. I made cheeseballs. Bob has been making turkey cheeseball sandwiches. Cheeseballs rock!

I don’t know where I was going with that. At dinner I said cooking was like yoga. If you practice the basics then when it’s time to do the advanced stuff: you’re ready for it. I was like a leaf. I floated on the wind.

Next week I have the most insanely hairy week. I doubt you’ll see me here again until next weekend. And hopefully you’ll have the Pamnewsletter to look forward to. Meanwhile, you can read the old versions here.

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