Can't sleep.

I can't sleep. I read the end of this month's Reader's Digest and Woman's Day, and still, when I put head to pillow, I couldn't get The Go-Gos' Vacation out of my head. Just the chorus though, because those are the only words I know. Figured blogging would put me to sleep. My apologies if my post puts you to sleep.

Sunday was Drew's 30th birthday. Since he's not getting any presents till his birthday party on Saturday, I decided to treat him to some of his favorite meals. Breakfast was bacon and eggs (how could I go wrong with that?)...(unless I'm cooking for Melinda) and Cracker Barrel-style hash-brown casserole. It was pretty darn good, I gotta say. It's Drew's absolute favorite thing to eat at Cracker Barrel, how could I deny him? Lunch was mad leftovers; supper was my crowning achievement.

Drew L O V E S Chicago-style pizza. The last time we'd had it was several years ago, from a place in L.A. called Speakeasy, may it rest in peace. For some reason, I never thought I could make it myself. A couple of weeks ago, when Drew got the news that he slammed yet another 4.0 for the semester, I decided I'd give it a try. I could NOT believe how easy it was, and now Drew asks for it all the time.

See, what you do is, you take a pizza dough from a can, stretch the pizza dough all up the sides of a 9x13 casserole dish, fill 'er up with all of your favorite stuff, then put the sauce on top. (Did I mention I make my own sauce?) Last night, I put in capicola, pepperoni, sweet Italian sausage, green peppers, onions, olives (*blechhh*), and mushrooms, and oh, I don't know, a half-ton or so of mozzarella cheese, of course. I cooked it low and slow, at 350 for probably 40 minutes, till the crust was brown, and it was mighty, mighty fine. When Drew says things like "Mmm-mm," "Oh my gosh," "Baby, this is good," and "BABY," I know I've done well. He said all of those things while eating my pizza.

For dessert, I made self-frosting Nutella cupcakes. I don't really get the self-frosting part, but whatever. You could put Nutella on the bottom of a storm drain and I'd dive in and eat it. They were pretty good, but I think I prefer actual frosted cupcakes to self-frosting cupcakes. Of course, I shoved candles in them and sang happy birthday to Drew. Ace was fascinated.















I think this worked. I'm yawning now and I have a different song in my head. I'm not sure of the name of it, but I'm pretty sure it's by The Killers. Night, y'all.