A Pug and a bunny.

My dog and I had an appointment at the vet today.

The last appointment we had didn't go so well a couple weeks ago. She needed two shots and she couldn't get them at the same time, so we had to make another appointment for this afternoon.

Penny decided not to run away this time. Instead, she tried to throw a fit when I opened the door to the building. She wouldn't go in and wanted to go back to the car.

When you weigh 18 pounds, you don't have a choice because your human can pick you up easily while you're throwing a fit.

Crisis averted, people.

I'm proud to say that she did not bite anyone this time. She sat in my lap and shook in fear, and she gave the person giving her the shot the stink eye. She also snorted a lot.

Snorting and stink eyes are okay. I mean, that's better than biting.

I told Penny before we went that if she was good we would go shopping for a new toy.

I'm excited to announce that Penny picked out a bunny as her new toy. There's one store in town that allows dogs, and Penny is a big fan of the treat isle and the dog food isle.

The toy isle is a pretty fun place, too.

Anyway, here's Penny and her new bunny.

Friday notes.

Here are a few notes that aren't at all related to each other.

-----

Yesterday one of my nieces was watching television. The news was on, and I don't remember what story they were talking about, but it was a serious story. It was about a carjacking or a car accident, something along those lines.

My niece started laughing. She was cracking up like she just saw the funniest thing she ever saw.

Um, okay?

She did it a few more times, then I got down on the floor on her level to see what was so funny.

She was laughing at the fan in front of her.

This kid rocks. They both rock, actually.

-----

I have the gift of being lactose intolerant.

I have little use for pizza (even though I eat it sometimes), I hate a certain restaurant that has buttermilk pancakes, and I have to be careful with things like cheese and butter.

Even bread has milk in it, people. This is ridiculous.

I decided to buy some pudding that comes in a box, thinking I could just add soy milk to it.

Imagine my surprise when I read the back of the box, after I spent $3 on three of them:

In case you can't read it, it says "Note: Pudding will not set if made with soy milk."

Why isn't that written in bold letters on the front of the box?

Does God hate me?

I refuse to let my $3 investment go to waste. I made the pudding with soy milk anyway (like a total rebel) and then I discovered the box was right.

I had pudding soup on my hands.

I tried to think of ways to make it thick. I whipped it more, to no avail. Then I thought, I could freeze it! After a while in the freezer, I took it out.

I mixed it up again, and it was acceptable.

It was acceptable ice pudding. It has a weird texture to it, but sometimes you just have to make do with what you've got.

To all of those who can eat and drink milk products with no major consequences, I hate you all.

-----

One of the things I'm really worried about is a trip I have coming up next week. This trip requires me to put on my grown up pants and fly across the country by myself.

By myself!

I can handle the airport that I'm flying out of. I've been there before and it's not that big or overwhelming. What makes me want to ship my pants, though,  is my short layover in Atlanta.

Atlanta!

I'm pretty sure I won't die, but I have this anxiety-ridden thought in my head that I'm going to get on the wrong airplane and end up in a prison camp in North Korea.

Sigh.

Another thing I'm really worried about regarding this trip is packing. Anyone who has ever traveled with me knows that I'm not exactly a light packer.

I went to Nebraska last week and stayed one night in a hotel room. I think I had four or five bags and things to carry into the room, plus I lost my car keys and my mind in the process.

I have no idea how I'm going to live for eight days (a combined total of eight days over two trips) out of one single suitcase. And since I'm going to be around people, as opposed to being in a car and hotel room by myself, I'm going to have to pretend like I know what I'm doing.

I don't.

If someone could teach me how to be a grown up, I would appreciate it. I need lessons in flying solo and packing.

Thanks!

Please don't eat my scarf.

Things I've either said or overheard in the past few days:

- Please don't eat my scarf.

- You may not eat my finger. I need that.

- Do you hold your toes while you eat? 

Context: Life with two 7-month-olds is pretty interesting. Today while eating lunch, one of my nieces barfed right in front of me and the other one barfed on me. 

I have a life tip for you. If you're wearing nice work clothes, it's okay to hold a barfy baby as long as you hold them with their mouth away from you.

While she did technically barf on me, a change of clothes wasn't necessary because she wasn't facing me. I didn't exactly picture myself typing that sentence pre-babies. Ha, ha. 

There was also some multi-tasking going on today. One of the babies was eating lunch and holding her toes at the same time. 

Hey, why not?

Every line and every scar.

I had this song stuck in my head the other day. It's a song from Saving Jane and I'm pretty sure it's like 10 years old.

I love this song and I've been singing it all week.

Come Down To Me

Words fall out of my mouth
And I can’t seem to trace what I’m saying
Everybody wants your time
I’m just dreaming out loud,
I can’t have you for mine and I know it
I just wanna watch you shine.

Tripping up on my tongue,
It’s all over my face and I’m racing
Gotta get away from you
Burning all the way home,
Try to put it to bed but it chases
Every little thing I do

When the light falls on your face,
Don’t let it change you
When the stars get in your eyes,
Don’t let them blind you.

You’re beautiful
Just the way you are
And I love it all
Every line, and every scar
And I wish that I could make you see
This is where you ought to be,
Come down to me.

Spell it out in a song,
Bet you never catch on to my weakness
I’m singing every word for you.
Here I’m thinking I’m sly
Then you’re catching my eye, and just maybe
You’re thinking what I’m thinking too

When you see it on my face,
Don’t let it shake you
I know better than to try and
Take you with me.

I Instagram every meal I've had.

Fruit and basil are probably my favorite things in the world to eat.

Tonight for supper, I ate a bowl of this:

This is strawberries, tomatoes (from the garden, huzzah!), basil, Parmesan cheese and balsamic vinegar.

I can't even describe how delicious this is. You might think that strawberries and tomatoes don't go together, but they're kind of amazing together.

And the balsamic vinegar? Swoon. I think I'm in love.

I got this recipe from The New York Times. Every summer I Google this article and make some of my favorites.

Here's the link: 101 Simple Salads for the Season

The world is mine!

The U.S. Department of State sent me some mail that I'm pretty excited about. Hells yeah!

Friday night quotes.

First quote - 

"I love you."

"I want to punch you in the face."

"I think our honeymoon is over."

Second quote - 

"I keep saying things that are things."

Third quote - 

"This needs to go on your blog."

Ask and you shall receive.

Context: There were some fierce games of Apples to Apples and another card game last night. Thanks for the fun night and laughs, dudes.

:)

Losing my mind and my car keys.

I fiercely protect my car keys when I travel out of town in my personal car.

I don't have a spare set. Every single time I leave my car and put my keys in my purse, I double check and triple check that they're there. I have my car and house keys on a big key chain that I can spot easily.

That being said, I do a terrible job of keeping track of my company car keys during business trips.

It started on Monday night. By the time I got back to my hotel room to eat dinner and unwind, it was around 8:30 p.m.

I sleep terrible in hotel rooms. At 4 a.m., I decided that three(ish) hours of sleep was enough to function and that I was going to go about my day.

I pulled out my phone and Googled local restaurants to see if they were open for breakfast.

No dice. The world is still sleeping at 4 a.m.

I waited until 6 a.m. to go get breakfast. I got ready, looked presentable, then went to grab my car keys.

Wait. There's my hotel room card, there's my jewelry, there's my cell phone.

Where are my car keys?

I tore the hotel room up looking for them. I looked in the trash cans, in my luggage, on every surface of the hotel room, in the bathroom.

They were nowhere to be found.

I even went outside near the car, looked on the ground to see if I dropped them on Monday night, and then got down on my hands and knees to look under the car.

They had magically disappeared.

I frantically called the front desk to see if anybody had found a pair of keys. They said no, but they were very nice and offered to help me look for them. I declined.

I went back to my hotel room to look again. I finally found the keys at 6:50 a.m., after almost an hour of looking.

Where were they, you ask? They were right where I left them, the same spot I searched frantically multiple times.

From now on when I go on business trips, the company car keys will be attached to my bulky personal keys.

I would lose my brain if it weren't in my head, I swear.

Hooray for vision.

I am not a graceful person.

If there's a chair nearby that has not moved in six months, I will trip over it and fall on my face.

If something can go wrong, it usually does with me.

This week's debacle involved getting new contacts. My new prescription is pretty spiffy, and I am enjoying seeing bricks in buildings and blades of grass instead of just green blobs everywhere.

What I don't enjoy, however, is the pressure I feel while putting in my contacts at my optometrist's office.

I've been to places in the past where they watch you put the contacts in. Um, no pressure, right? At my new place, they left the room for a few minutes to leave me to my business without an audience watching.

The first problem I encountered was the mirror on the wall. It makes sense to expect people to use that, because I'm guessing most normal people put their contacts in while looking at a bathroom mirror.

Of course, I'm not one of those normal people.

At my casa, I sit on the floor and have to dim the lights. I'm weird, I know.

I also messed up by trying to do my right eye first. My right eye is the problem eye that takes the longest, so I usually save it for last.

I tried forever to get that stupid contact in. I had paper towels and Kleenexes all over the poor optometrist's counter. Every time I tried to put contact solution on my contact, I would miss and squirt the solution three feet away from me.

Sigh.

The contacts also fell off my finger a lot. I'd go to stab my eye, and the little contact would just slide down my finger until it hit the palm of my hand. I've never had that problem before.

Really, life? Really?

I would describe myself as a pretty independent person. Every time I heard footsteps, I freaked out because, dammit, I'm going to get these things in by myself before anyone else comes back into the room!

(I probably have some issues.)

I also cry a river when I first put contacts in. After they were both finally in, I tried my best to clean up the huge mess I made, grabbed a Kleenex, and sat down in the chair to wait patiently.

When my optometrist came in the room, he asked me what the Kleenex in my hand was for. Silly doctor, you have no idea of the huge mess I just made in your office five minutes ago.

I'm proud to say that I love my new prescription and brand of contacts.

Hooray for vision!

The time Jesus hit me in the head.

There was an incident on Saturday that I forgot to write about in my previous two blog posts.

If you read back a couple of posts, you'll notice that I didn't have a very good day on Saturday. Actually, it wasn't that I had a bad day. Let's just say it was interesting.

Something funny happened that I forgot to write about.

On my way out the front door on Saturday afternoon, something fell on my head. My brain immediately assumed the worst. I thought it was a spider, and I freaked out and tried to get it off of my head. 

The neighbors across the street probably thought I was trying to dance, but I promise you I wasn't. Not on a Saturday afternoon without a drink in my hand, anyway.

Back to the story: A piece of paper fell in front of me, by my feet. I picked it up, went back inside, and opened it up. It was a flier from the local friendly Jehovah Witnesses, asking me if I had found God. 

Actually, I have no idea what the flier said. I didn't read it because I was kind of mad that a paper about Jesus hit me in the head. 

That's a first world problem if I've ever heard of one.

Saturday, part 2

After my eventful Saturday morning, I decided to take a nap before I decided to do anything else.

I woke up around 5 p.m., and got ready to go shopping. I'm going on vacation next year, and I have no summer vacation clothes.

It turns out that hey, you can't really buy summer clothes in August in western Kansas. I pondered what to do, then I decided to go to the next town over to see if I had any luck there.

It turns out, I had wonderful luck.

I got a carry on bag for a whopping $10. It's big enough to hold my iThings and a book, so that worked out well.

And then I went to the clothing section. They did not have any summer clothes, really, until I got to the clearance rack. I walked past it a couple of times, then I walked around the store a few times looking at other things.

It's inevitable, I thought. I'm going to a beautiful beach next year, and I'm going to need summer beach gear.

I grabbed five or six things, then went into the dressing room.

The first few things I grabbed were too big (SCORE), so I put them back and got a smaller size. After much consideration, I got a maxi skirt, two bathing suit tops and a pair of swim shorts.

All on clearance, too.

I did good today.

I can't say that I love water. In fact, I hate water and I'd rather have my fingernails pulled off slowly than be in water or near water.

But you know what? I'm not going to walk around on a beautiful beach in jeans and long-sleeved shirts.

You know, when in Rome and all.

I read a blog post a while back about a woman who wore a bikini and the world didn't end. I wore a dress earlier this year and the world didn't end, so I'm pretty sure the world will still be turning when I swim in the ocean with rum in my hand.

It's still months away, but I'm excited about this.

I also got a pair of tights to wear with a dress for a conference I'm going to in a couple of weeks. I promise not to wear the tights as pants, though.

:)

Bad Bad Pug.

Today did not start out promising.

Penny, my Pug, and I had a 9 a.m. appointment at the vet this morning to get her shots updated. After waking up at 4 a.m. and being awake for a while, I dozed back to sleep and woke up again at 8:05 a.m.

Uh oh, I'm officially late.

I went to make my hair somewhat acceptable, then went and searched for my glasses.

I looked all over the place, in the usual spots, and all over the floor. I thought maybe I knocked them on the floor in my sleep or something.

They were nowhere to be found.

It's 8:15 a.m. at this point, and the shit has already hit the fan. Sigh.

I went and tossed my dog outside (after she got out of bed) and searched for my glasses again. It was giving me a complex. Did someone break into my house over night and just steal my glasses?

Who does something stupid like that?

I was running out of time (not that I could even see the time) so I decided to go for contacts today. I'm proud to say that it took me less than 10 minutes to get them both in.

Sweet! I'm back on schedule.

I grabbed my dog's harness, put it on her, then walked out the door with dog and debit card in hand.

We got there kind of early (a score in my book - I hate being late) and I parked outside to check up on emails and other messages.

My dog realized where we were and started going bonkers.

Penny had separation anxiety when she was a puppy. She's mostly sane now, but she has her moments when she loses her mind and goes crazy.

Today was one of those days. She managed to wiggle herself out of her harness in the parking lot and started to run away from me.

She got about 10 feet away from me, then she just stood there and looked at me.

Yes, Penny, I understand that going to the doctor isn't fun. I told her that if she ran away, she wouldn't find another family that loves her as much as mine does.

Penny eventually came back to me, I put her harness back on her, then we went inside. Her usual thing at the vet is to sit underneath my chair in the waiting area and shake and cry.

Pugs.

Anyway, I'm probably forgetting some details about how bad she was during this appointment. It involved a lot of snorting on her part, the kind of snorting she does when she's telling you to go somewhere hot and fiery. She also pulled a new one and tried to bite the veterinarian.

Penny! You little shit!

When we got home, I put her outside and told her she had to think about her actions. I also wondered how in the world you muzzle a dog who has such a squished up face.

All of this happened before 9:30 a.m. on a Saturday.

Some days you just can't win.

Oh, and are you wondering what I did with my glasses? I finally found them this afternoon. I sat them on top of a book, and apparently during the night I knocked them off and they fell behind the book.

Today was a bad day, but at least there aren't thieves who break into houses and steal stuff that's probably useless to them.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

I've also had this song stuck in my head all day because of my dog's attitude: Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing

What I have to say.

First off, a few notes and thoughts:

I thought about not hitting the publish button on this post, for several reasons. The last thing I want to do is piss people off that I'm close to, especially since I'm not currently in the dog house for anything at the moment.

I also don't want to compare my life and my troubles to anyone else's. Having a whining contest about whose life sucks the worst is stupid and serves zero purpose.

But after re-reading what I wrote earlier today, I think what I have to say is worth saying.

Also, the people who told me these things below probably didn't know they were being hurtful and not helpful. I don't blame them for this because I've probably done the same thing to people, too, without realizing it.

So, here's what I have to say.

I should probably add that I've never been diagnosed with depression or anxiety, although I'm very much an anxiety-ridden person by nature. I always have been and I'll probably always be. I'm okay with that.

I've gone to what seems like tons of doctor's appointments over the past year. Until now, I've always been healthy and I've never really had a health problem before.

But something happened over the past year. It seemed like the floodgates opened wide and I had to deal with problem after problem after problem. I've gone to dozens of appointments, some good and some bad. Some of them I didn't even tell anyone about.

There were suspicious things found, suspicious things tested, biopsies to be had, me in a little tiny room full of doctors and nurses talking about my problems, what they could be, what they could not be, and the consequences of those things.

In the end, I got pretty lucky. My problems were largely nothing. Some went away with antibiotics, some with minor surgery, some with other types of medications.

My allergies were driving me crazy a couple weeks ago, so I went and got an allergy shot. My blood pressure was normal and my doctor (well, nurse) told me that other then some allergy issues, I'm completely healthy.

That was music to my ears.

So, with that out of the way, here's what I wrote earlier today.

-----

People are shocked that a well-liked comedian and actor committed suicide yesterday. I scrolled through Facebook right before I fell asleep last night, and nearly every post from my friends was about him.

Some people put his inspirational quotes next to his photos. Other people had kind things to say, encouraging people who are depressed to seek help immediately.

I don't know what depressed people go through, and I'm not going to pretend to. I do know how it feels to have a problem that people largely ignore, don't understand, and completely dismiss. I've even intentionally not told people about medical problems because I don't want to deal with their comments.

Things that have been said to me:

- If you stop going to the doctor they'll stop finding stuff wrong with you.

- They're only making you come back because they want money.

- Can't you just fix the problem yourself?

- I would just give up if I were you.

- Quit feeling sorry for yourself.

- You don't want to get better.

- I don't understand why you're so upset. Can't you just get over it?

Maybe people saying these things to me don't understand what they're saying, maybe some people do understand what they're saying and are just being giant asshats, I don't know.

Regardless, don't ever make fun or say unkind things to people who are going through shit. It doesn't matter if it's depression, anxiety, a broken bone or something else. Don't ever say an unkind word to people, especially if you know they're going through medical stuff.

It's kind of scary when you realize there's something wrong with you that you can't fix yourself. And it's really, really hard to make a phone call and ask a total stranger for help.

When people say those things to me that I listed above, I have no idea how to respond, so I mostly ignore it. While going through a particularly shitty situation, two people in my life said kind things to me. Two people.

I challenge everyone reading this to be like those two people in my life. Be understanding, patient and respectful. Listen, but only if I want to talk. And if I don't want to talk, talk to me about your problems and remind me that I'm not the only person in the world dealing with this.

And don't discount anyone. It's not nice and you're not doing any good by it.

I'm sorry that Robin Williams died. I remember wearing out my family's copy of Mrs. Doubtfire when we had it on tape.

I'm glad, though, that people are discussing depression and are mostly encouraging people to seek help for it.

No matter what medical condition you have, don't ever be afraid to ask for help. If you have something suspicious on your body that wasn't there before, get it checked out.

In fact, go get checked out even if you don't think there's anything wrong. There could be something wrong with you that you don't even know about. You can't see things like diabetes and high blood pressure, yet those things can kill you if you don't take care of yourself.

To people reading this? Go get checked out and get your problems fixed. Go to a medical doctor and have blood work done. If you're depressed, go talk to someone about it. Schedule yearly visits with a dentist and optometrist.

There are people in the world who make a living by helping you.

To the rest of the world? Get over the stigma that doctors are bad people who are out to get your money. Stop saying that people who go to doctors on a regular basis need to stop.

Last January, I was standing next to a lawyer and trying to be discreet about eavesdropping on a conversation. Something the lawyer said stuck with me.

"Everybody hates lawyers and doctors until you need one."

I agree.

My favorite line from a Cracked article about Robin Williams: "Anyway. Rest in peace, Robin. You've given us a chance to talk about this, and to prove that this has nothing to do with life circumstances -- you were rich and accomplished and respected and beloved by friends and family, and in the end it meant jack fucking shit."

Mad.

I've been mad this whole weekend.

Ever since we finished watching Lost on DVD, I've been coming up with more questions that I don't have the answers to.

While driving down the road, I'll think of something I don't understand and get upset about it.

Logical, right?

Like I asked friends the other night: How did Jacob know that certain people would live through the plane crash? Did he know? Did he have all of the people's names who were on the flight written down in the cave? Or just the survivors?

- Ben said something about a spinal surgeon falling out of the sky right after he found out he needed surgery. How did Ben/Jacob know that Jack would live? Seriously, how do they know?

- Who the hell is David? (More on this later)

- How did Ben go from being an Other to killing all of the Dharma people? I don't think we were ever told why he went on a murderous rampage, and if we were, I don't remember the explanation. He just woke up one day and thought, "Gee, I guess I'll just off my former people today?"

- Of all the stuff I read about Walt being "special" I sure don't remember a single instance of him being special. Did I miss all of these clues? I just thought he was an obnoxious little kid.

- The Jack/Kate Juliette/Sawyer love circle. Seriously, who was meant to be with who? Make up your mind, writers.

- Everyone seemed to have a mate on the island except Boone (or as I call him, the hot guy). Why didn't they let him have someone? Hm? Hmm? HMMM?

- Did the bomb go off in the season 5 finale? This is the thing that makes me mad the most, BECAUSE I HAVE NO IDEA.

I'm so confused.

- Sun left her kid to go die with her husband? If I had to choose between those two, I'd probably choose living with my kid. But hey, what do I know about life.

I'm going to explain why I'm obsessed with all of this now.

Reddit is my favorite way to waste time. I've been reading the Lost subreddit this weekend, and it's just making me more pissed off and confused.

Because:

- Walt was apparently special and was brought back to the island to hang out with Hurley. Maybe Walt became protector of the island later on (maybe Aaron was there, too?).

- David is/was apparently Jack and Kate's son, not Jack and Juliette's. Seriously, what the hell? So Kate was pregnant when she went back to the island? Whatever, Lost, whatever.

- There was this whole ridiculous article I read that said something about Jack becoming the smoke monster at the end of the show. I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THIS, IDIOT ARTICLE WRITER.

- I'm not confused or mad about this, but I would like to point out that Faraday, Miles and Charlotte ended up being some of my favorite characters on the show. They were all pretty awesome.

More interesting reads:

108 Answers to LOST's Supposedly Unanswered Questions

Beautiful

As I mentioned in a previous post, I went to a craft fair in my hometown last weekend.

I took $20, without really knowing what I wanted to buy. I figured I'd find something kind of cool.

I browsed first, and made a mental note of all the things I was interested in buying. And then I turned the corner and saw a booth full of beautiful beaded jewelry.

A lady approached me and talked to me about the necklaces, purses and bracelets that were on display. It turns out a lady in Lawrence, Kan. started a non-profit to help widowed and abandoned women in Uganda.

The women in Uganda make the beads out of paper. Yes, you read that right. Paper!

Don't ask me how it works, because I have no idea. All I know it the jewelry is beautiful and I wanted all of it.

I settled for this necklace, which cost me $10.

I wore it twice this week. When people asked me about it, I got all excited and nerdy. A former journalist wearing a necklace made out of paper?

It was meant to be.

Plus, I'm kind of weird when it comes to jewelry. I'm allergic to metal and can't wear anything that has nickel in it.

I'm special like that.

That eliminates practically 95 percent of jewelry out there. Bummer, right? I hated that when I was younger, but now I kind of like the challenge of trying to find jewelry to wear that won't try to kill me.

Plus, I like jewelry that's kind of eccentric. Anybody can go to a department store and find stuff that's generic.

My jewelry? It needs to have a story.

I'll be buying more from this non-profit in the future. It's called Project Lydia, and it's pretty fantastic.

More info on Project Lydia:

Facebook

Website

Going for it.

I love clothes and jewelry.

I've been trying to stock up on some fall clothes. It seems like every season change I find myself with nothing to wear, so I'm trying to get ahead of the curve this year.

I've added a few things to my closet. The first is an orange cardigan, a brown shirt and a multi-colored scarf.

Adorable!

I've also been keeping my eye on the colored jeans fad. I promised myself I'd never do that. Who wears red or purple pants?

That's so stupid!

People, I'm the proud new owner of a pair of red jeans. I just bought a cute bracelet for a whopping $13 that just so happens to match the red pants perfectly.

I put them side by side last night, and I'm kind of proud of myself. What a happy accident.

I don't know that I can pull off red pants, but I'm going to go for it.

Somewhat related - There was a craft fair over the weekend that I went to. I added a $10 necklace (made out of paper! But that's a story for another blog post) and a $5 bracelet to my collection.

I'm pretty excited for my closet to be expanding.

:)

Food and Wine

It started out as a Pinterest idea for a recipe called hot naked spaghetti.

It called for spaghetti, Parmesan cheese, red pepper flakes and olive oil. I used some of my spaghetti earlier in the week, so I had to improvise.

I used penne instead, which worked out just fine.

I also found some leftover pasta sauce in the fridge. People, it looks like we're going to make a Monica original here!

I grabbed a couple of zucchini, sliced them up and then threw that into a pan with olive oil. I had a little bit of red wine left that I'm not really fond of drinking, so I threw the rest of that into the pan with a little bit of balsamic vinegar.

I have no idea what I'm doing, but I taste tested it along the way and it was pretty good.

I threw the veggies, pasta and sauce into a pan.

But wait, we need protein!

I cooked some chicken and added the rest of the wine into the pan. Hey, why not? After that was done, it got thrown into the pan with some Parmesan cheese on top.

Throw that into an oven at 350 degrees for 30ish minutes...and I can't begin to describe how awesome this smells. It smells like wine and happiness.

Delicious!

I'm not a huge fan of zucchini, but it's pretty good if you cook it in wine.

Trust me.