"I cant cut the tart!"

Thanksgiving proved to be nice this year. Todd and I went out to a lovely place called Counter and enjoyed a delicious vegetarian dinner (with wine pairings to boot!) with Kurt and Heidi, Terence and Brandi, and Kurts sister Karen. Every course was flavorful and fresh, and many laughs were shared. Todd was kind of the jokester of the table getting everyone super weak, but would you really expect anything less? Afterwards we met up with Curtis and Adrienne for a little while at a bar under their building where the good times continued. I feel very fortunate to know those that I do up here, as they are really awesome people.

Our living room revamp is coming along well. We got our Eames armchair shell rocker by Herman Miller in the mail and its amazing. A work of art...


We also got a vintage issue of Vogue from 1950 off of ebay. Love love love the cover art. They dont make magazine covers quite like they used to...

Good one.

So last night while I was at work, Todd decided to take a nice, relaxing candelit shower. After he got out, he stepped out onto our front stoop to blow out the candle so he wouldnt stink up the house. He closed the door behind him, only to find he had locked himself out of the apartment in merely his boxers and slip on house shoes. Typically if that had happened, he would have walked to Barnes and Noble and had some coffee and read magazines until I got home from work, but being he was almost naked I dont think that would fly. He thought of the only thing he could do- break into our house. Luckily we have a broom sitting under our stairs, so not wanting to get glass all over our couch, he broke the pane of the door out furthest from it. Not a smart move, as the broken pane ended up being too far from the door knob and his hand was about 2 inches from reaching it, so he had to bust another pane out. Finally, cold, slightly less relaxed with a bit of lost dignity, victory was his and he was back inside. The mental image of the whole situation is ridiculous. I love my boyfriend.

Warming those feets!

As soon as Biscuit hears our heater kick on, he runs to the nearest vent and sprawls out over it. Here he is on the bathroom floor as I got ready today...

Dear Santa,

Ive been good so can I please have this bathroom? 

Cold weather blues.

Winter up here kind of bums me out. Day after day of gloomy, dark days leave you wondering where the hell the sun is. Not to mention the ridiculously cold winds. Where are these winds when its 98 degrees in the dead heat of summer? Nowhere to be found. Its not even December and Im already starting to hibernate in my warm apartment and have a nightly cup of hot chocolate. Only 5 more months until it starts getting warm again. In the meantime, can someone please invent the teleport so Todd and I can chill in Bora Bora through the winter?...

In other news, Biscuit has really nasty gas. We changed his diet to all natural, organic dogfood which he absolutely loves, but his large intestine does not. No amount of candles we light can mask the ever delightful scent of perma-fart that just seems to linger. Love you B-head, but I suuurree dont love that b-hole. 

I have a blog.

Cheers.