Please: a moment of true respect for Carolina barbeque.

If you’re not from my home state, barbeque may be a verb for you, but here: here, it is a noun. Pork barbeque, smoked, pulled, served on a plate with cole slaw…oh, my God. We ate lunch at Bullock’s Barbeque in Durham today, some of the best barbeque ever. (They catered my wedding, although then I hardly got any food because you NEVER get to eat at your own wedding, it’s the dirty secret no one tells you.)

At Bullock’s, they bring you a basket of hushpuppies with your menus. Hot and fried and fat-laden, but who cares? I had a plate with fried chicken AND barbeque, plus cole slaw and macaroni and cheese. I was so full. I am still full. Oh my God. I will eat salads for the next two days but it was so worth it. Yum.

(If you are originally from NC and you’re reading this, I know that now you can’t get the hankering for barbeque out of your mind. And for that, I apologize. As for me, I have leftovers in the fridge. Ooops. Didn’t mean to rub it in.)

It’s Saturday. We went to Costco (which was a nightmare) and Petsmart (only slightly less so). At the latter I purchased yet another Wiggly Giggly toy for my dog Scout. The last one she destroyed in less than two hours….it’s kind of scary, actually. But she loves those things. (For the uninitiated a Wiggly Giggly is a plastic ball that makes this creepy giggling noise whenever it gets shook in any direction. For some reason, my dog is MAD for these things.)

Ah, another exciting day in my life. Food and dog toys. And buying Frappacinos in bulk. Gotta love it….