FIERCE.

I've been home for the past two days with the stomach flu that I caught from Andrew, so my life for two days consisted of mostly a lot of whining, throwing up, begging for mercy, sleeping, throwing up, and America's Next Top Model reruns.

I am now fully integrated back into pop-culture society, and completely caught up on ANTM Cycles 5 and 6.

Nothing makes you feel better about watching models prance around for hours on end than expelling every ounce of nutrition you have ingested in the past 6 months.

Andrew came home from work last night, I was feeling better, and he was doing his usual routine of wanting to talk and catch up on the happenings of our day. I also was doing my usual routine of not wanting to talk about my day-time happenings. Which is strange, given as it wasn't work I had to talk about - it was nothing but the monotony of being ill. What can you really catch up on? I ate crackers at 9:34am and they staged a revolt on my body around 11:49am. Yuck.

So Andrew, being the lovable human he is, is trying to engage me in conversation. And I, being the miserable addict I was, am trying to look over is shoulder, past him, in order to better see the television, because for God's sake I have been watching all day (more like two days) and LIKE HELL I will miss the finale episode of Cycle 6 when we find out if Nik or Nicole get the Tyra-axe. So I begin to yell at him, YOU ARE IMPEDING MY GOALS. Those words actually left my mouth. Several times. Until he just gives up and painfully watches two episodes with me. At some point, I had to run to the restroom [ahem] and after a couple minutes, out of no where, I hear Andrew jump and cheer, "YES! SHE WENT DOOOOOWN!"

I am confused.
What?
They had axed the 2nd runner-up (Evil Bre) while I was away.

Probably one of my Top-5 married moments thus far.