Running in the rain

Okay, well, the weekend didn't measure up as high as I thought it would on the fun-o-meter. I won't go into details, except to say that me and the mister spent most of the weekend frowning at one another... boo-hoo.
All's well that ends well, and today we had a great (tough) run on the mountain in the pouring rain.
But I will say that I looked friggin hot this weekend. I was sad that more people didn't get to bask in my glory! Seriously, it was like having a good hair day, except magnified tenfold.
We did get our drink on though, and had dinner at Mondo Frites on Saturday. It was yummy and much like a heart attack, I imagine.
Listened to some tunes on the street where they were painting the big mural, and then of course ended up in the park.
What is it about that park?
Yesterday was such an unexpected great day. Monday, I love you!
England won (thank goodness, otherwise the England sign my husband was working on would have been useless and quite probably a fire hazard), and so we had a small celebration.
Nothing to write home about... Thursday England plays Portugal and I am afraid that will most likely be something to write home about. Good or bad, I have no way of knowing yet ;)
Went to a weird interview yesterday, but I won't say anything about it yet out of superstition. Sometimes the weirdest jobs are the best jobs, so I'm actually huoping something will come out of this.
Listened/watched Bill Clinton on Oprah today and was stunned to hear him talk about his childhood. Everything he described, I felt and thought. We had a very similar childhood and it was weird to hear it come out of someone else's mouth - especially Bill Clinton's.
He mentioned living a double life as a child and I totally knew what he meant. When I was away from home I was the happiest and most grateful person ever, because I didn't have to deal with my dad and his drinking. Some people at school would have never known that the night before my dad had been on some drunken binge, keeping us up all hours of the night. My sister was an honours student the whole way through school and most of the people we knew would never guess she wrote tests after spending a night wondering where our dad was, and if he was coming home that night, or the next, or the next...
But that's the funny thing. At the time I didn't think about it. I just lived through it and was happy for the moments of relief and the time away from the house. Sounds strange, but I never think people ever need to feel sorry for me. That's just the way it was, and now I can either move on or stay stuck trying to figure out why it happened to me. Who cares why...
Maybe I'll be prime minister one day because of it!
(not that I'd want to, maybe member of parliament, they get pretty fat checks)

Time to get to work and finish painting. Our kitchen has been in a state of disrepair for a few weeks now.
I was looking for a recipe for a spinach and feta cheese pizza, but apparently that doesn't exist according to Google.
Help me find a good recipe for my favorite pizza!