peter can confirm

So things happened this weekend. I poured Xtina a big shot of 75 year old bourbon and I think she got drunk. I discovered Kevin doesn’t know how to cook which he should learn to do if only because cooking is fun. Becky left me with a vision of a tattoo on Peter’s, uh, lower hip area: a Baby Phat font glitter panther tattoo. Kittens crawled all over me. We saw Fantastic Mr. Fox which was fantastic. We made really good chili.

And I got hit in the head by a flying squirrel.

Yeah. That happened.

for mom: i'm alive! peter's alive! everything is okay!

We’ve been listening to some contraband vinyl. I’m not allowed to talk about it. It’s killing me not to talk about it. So all I can say is we’re listening to some contraband vinyl.

And it’s filthy good.

This weekend I worked. Saturday night found me consuming Chinaman’s food, watching the Gilmore Girls and wondering when I got so lame. I coulda gone to the Sandbar! I coulda gone downtown! Instead I was almost asleep by the time Peter got home. I manage to stay up way too late still thanks to a SNL which wasn’t not funny (the reba mcintyre short alone is worth watching), the God Channel (which is horrifyingly compelling) and some Books videos which rule. Always. My late night lame ass Saturday meant that last night after making some corn chowder I put on my jammies and was asleep before 9:30pm and slept until 7:15am this morning.

It might have been the most awesome sleep ever.

So the holidays are fast approaching and notice I am not freaking out about handmade Christmas. That would be because this year will not be a 100% handmade Christmas. There will be handmade elements, but I’m determined to not kill myself and to have some fun with this whole holiday thing this year. I’m actually attending the library Christmas party. On a Friday night. Without booze (thought technically a bunch of staff are going to Parrots right at 5pm to do some shots so…you know…that’ll make for an exciting evening). I also signed up for Secret Santa here and got my person who I’ve got to say is 100% the single LAST person I could have possibly wanted to get, but damnit, I’m determined to have fun with this and I will make this person smile every freaking day. And for the staff potluck I will not show up with 5 kinds of expensive cheese that I adore, but instead will make something involving potatoes, nine pounds of sour cream and cheese because that’s what my coworkers want. As far as home goes, I’m hoping to get a tree this weekend. I might even buy a wreath for the outside. I’d like to host a small Christmas party involving festive cocktails, appetizers and desserts.

‘Tis the season to be jolly and I’m going to be jolly if it kills me.

it's gonna be a hanukkah birthweek for me!

This is what I got last night just after midnight which officially kicked off my birthweek.

I might have spent too much time analyzing each picture.

And, no. It’s not lost on me that Peter gave this to ME for my birthday.

Last night I made a tofu spinach lasagna which sounds icky for all of you non-tofu eaters out there, but you honestly couldn’t tell that it was tofu. And it upped the protein content. And lowered the saturated fat content. My gayboyfriend Michael was halfway through his first piece when I finally confessed what I had done.

He ate 2 ½ pieces.

This week:

Survive the after effects of a full moon at work.

Walk to work despite the cold.

Make spinach turkey burgers stuffed with feta cheese served in a pita with beets, olives, and hummus.

See the Press Delete and only the Press Delete Friday night at lemonjellos

Buy Being There on vinyl.

Watch Food Inc.

Hit up the awesome used bookstore in South Haven.

Go to EPC for the midweek birthweek dinner celebration.

Be cool.