Zuma (not to be confused with Zumba)

Today we went to Zuma beach in Malibu, and today was the day I decided that I don't want to return to Louisville. Or maybe that was yesterday when we had yummy mexican food at Chevys (even though, let's be honest, the lack of apostrophe bothers me) and went to IKEA? Actually, maybe it was the day before that when we... well, I'm not sure what we did the day before that, but it probably involved amazing California food and/or weather. But the whole idea of returning to Louisville and my job at the Village Manor is sounding less and less appealing.

I bought these fun containers (flour and sugar and... jelly beans?) at IKEA:

The one on the right is actually a lot smaller than the one on the left -- 17 vs. 74 oz.)

And here's a shot of our Zuma fun (Sans Marky-Mark, who took the photo, and Penelope, who was hiding in her pack and play):

Have I mentioned to you that my hubs never stops working? Here he is at beautiful Zuma, studying away:

He's in the middle of a book called Let the Reader Understand: A Guide to Interpreting and Applying the Bible. I, on the other hand, am in the middle of a book called It Sucked and Then I Cried: How I Had a Baby, a Breakdown, and a Much Needed Margarita (by one of my favorite bloggers).

Clearly, one of us is cut out for higher education, and one of us is not.