Wordpress tells me this is my 100th post <insert golf claps here.>  Here’s to hoping the next 100 are a bit more, uhh relevant than the last ones.  I’ve had a hankering for a grilled cheese for a while, but today when I pulled out our Cuisinart Panini Press, it fell through the bottom of the box and pieces of metal went flying and I decided to not take my chances on all the exposed wires in the back.  RIP, magic appliance that can make sandwiches AND pancakes.  I made one on our George Foreman instead, but went all FANCY with turkey and tomatoes and my favorite German mustard.  The mustard that is dwindling in supply because apparently someone in my family likes it as much as I do.  Fun fact: I didn’t even used to like mustard, now it’s one of my top three condiments.  Because you needed to know that.  Tomorrow is a BIG DAY in the life of Brittney: after work (which comes after waking up before dawn but before driving two hours to Iowa City) I’m meeting the parents. NPH’s parents are rolling into town to, I’m not sure what, take him out on the town for a belated birthday meal or something.  For some reason, I have extreme fear (mostly irrational, he informs me) about this meeting.  Parents generally don’t like me, especially not when I’m nervous and extra awkward and get up to pee no less than four times during a meal, making them also think I have a debilitating cocaine addiction.  What are we supposed to talk about?  What should I order?  Will his mother bore her eyes into my soul and know that occasionally I get handsy with her son?!  I will obviously let you know how this riveting mealtime exchange goes, but this camp is preparing for the worst.