The other people watched me go with a mixture of shock and awe. They were more than willing to wait the rain out, and as I reflect on this day, I don’t know why I was so unwilling. I was determined to get home for some reason. There was probably some food for me there that I was looking forward to gorging myself on. That’s really the most reasonable conclusion. So I stuck my poor little suede boots outside of the protection of the Palacio and nearly gasped as the weight of the water crushed me.
It’s true what they say about time flying by when you’re having fun. In what felt like no time at all, two weeks passed and my two month escape to […]
Monday: Why don’t you spend the entire week in bed under a heated blanked since the polar vortex is descending once again? The windchill is supposed to be a balmy […]
Monday: Why don’t you campaign to put an end to the idiocy of daylight saving time? I deeply loathe the shifting clocks, even if I feel slightly more refreshed today […]
I felt quite drunk on sunshine. It was intoxicating. I couldn’t stop smiling. The sounds (the half that I could hear since I’m deaf now) and colors and the breeze blowing through my hair was everything I have been needing. I have been so bleak lately, but this hour out in the countryside restored a great chunk of who I used to be. I sat decadently in a nearby cemetery and watched as the sun sank into barren fields. The heavens were a riot of color and it felt like I had been thrust into an impressionistic painting. I felt quite alive.
I have a doozy of a story to share with you today. Martha Stewart is one of the icons in my life that I look up to every single day. If I can ever be a bit more like her, I’ll find a way to do that. Whenever I’m tidying and redoing my house, I’m thinking, what will Martha think when she comes over? It’s absurd, reader. Martha is never coming to my house for lunch, but I terrorize myself into order at the thought of it happening. This has been a commonplace scenario in my mind since the summer of 2008 when I saw my first episode of Martha’s daytime talk show.
LOVE: Frozen French Onion Soup at ALDI: Okay, so I’m the queen of ALDI, which is something you already know. I seem to talk about my favorite grocery store once […]
I don’t care how beautiful you think puffy piles of crystalline snow are. I don’t care about your cozy sweaters and your hot tea and your crackling fires. I don’t care about skiing or or parkas or that Scandinavian concept of Hygge that all the hipsters and wine moms have adopted. I don’t want anything to do with it. To me, as I’m sure you know, winter is a hellish misery of frozen doors and chilled fingers and darkness and eternal misery.
Monday: Why don’t you study “invisible diseases” to try and understand the suffering some people go through? You know I have Multiple Sclerosis, and I honestly feel healthier than ever, […]
Picture it, Paris 2009, a cozy winter night, me in a vintage Dior suit, snow gently falling and making the streets glitter under the yellow streetlights. There I am in a highly regarded restaurant on Left Bank just a stone’s throw from Notre Dame. That evening would prove to be one of the most influential in my gastronomic life.