What would you name your cloned neanderthal baby?

Something amazing happened yesterday.

You may not believe me – do amazing things happen to 31 year old women? They certainly don’t happen in their backyard, unless that something is discovering a dinosaur fossil or giving birth to a cloned neanderthal baby.

Maybe I’ve played this up too much. What really happened yesterday is that I ate the first tomato from my garden.

It was delicious! But feel free to throw your old tomatoes at my head, as I know eating a tomato from your garden is hardly amazing, even if that tomato is yellow and delicious and you’ve known that tomato since it was a brave little un-pollinated flower.

But.

I’m pretty sure the 17-year-old Home Depot Garden Center employee who was tasked with watering the plant that yielded The Most Amazing And Delicious Yellow Tomato Ever shared a joint with my young, impressionable plant before I paid $3.88 for her and brought her home. I think this same employee rubbed psychedelic mushrooms on her tender leaflets and maybe even exposed her root buds to acid tablets.

Because I had the craziest dreams last night.

Like, chewing on gumballs while running the wrong way through a crowd during a 10k. But the gumballs turn into your teeth and the race is all uphill, and you’re running on your knees because you forgot your shoes and oh! you have no shirt on.

And you really have to get home because you can hear you sister’s parrot screaming (what? Your sister doesn’t have a parrot? DOESN’T MATTER) and if you don’t get home to feed it it’ll die. And how can you make your sister believe that you are sorry if you don’t even have a shirt on? Plus, your teeth are soggy, chewed-up gumballs and suddenly you’ve forgotten where your house is.

But really, that tomato was exceptionally delicious. Five stars. WOULD EAT AGAIN.

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Your’re Computer Haz Been Enfected with SPYWARE!!1!

My computer is dying, y’all, DYING!  Poor, poor work computer.  She is suffering from a disgusting virus that has made a scary message utilizing poor grammar replace the picture of my sisters and I at my sister’s wedding as my desktop background.  Yesterday I had to break down and call our Tech department to come out and fix it.  I’m attempting to put the blame on downloading Internet Explorer 8, rather than admitting to my devious attempt to subvert the work web filter by adding Twitter and Facebook gadgets to my iGoogle page.  I have a feeling that wouldn’t go over well. 

And how’s this for salt in the wound:  My boss recently retired, and since a replacement has yet to be hired, his office is empty.  Just yesterday I had the brilliant idea to switch out my cruddy mouse, which was getting really jumpy and seriously cramping my free-hand Paint skills, for my boss’ mouse (I slathered my hand with Purell and rubbed it all over the new-to-me mouse, then wiped it off with a Kleenex.  The idea of using someone else’s mouse is kind of repulsive, but after this ritual I felt ok.).  Where am I working from today?  You got it – Old Boss’ office, complete with jumpy mouse.  Oh well, it could be worse.  His office definitely has a better view than mine.

So now a guy from Technology is working on my computer (not my work boyfriend – he moved to California, although this guy would be kind of cute if not for the lazy eye).  Let’s all hope he can fix her, without discovering that the virus was caused by me watching clips of Oprah’s MacKenzie Phillips interview at jezebel.com.

Tomorrow I will tell you how I went to my first yoga class and did not fart.