I'm really forcing it here-- I'm talking windows wide open and my fan cranked on blast, swiveling back and forth as if shaking a disapproving head at me. I am confused; the autumnal equinox came and passed and yet I'm still getting chic sweat stained streaks on my shirts along the crevice of my spine; I am impatient because it's now officially the socially acceptable time of year to blast out pumpkin and squash flavored treats and biscuits in my kitchen, so a little ignorantly I cranked the oven to 425 degrees and buttered, loved, massaged, herbed, stuffed and roasted a pretty little bird against better judgement.Read More
Boston's been happening.
It's a happening place, and it's happening to me. It's an interesting love affair- the kind you want to write about, but not only do words do little justice but you never know where to start or what to say or what to leave out (because I am a firm believer that sharing a secret with yourself is important. If you're not your own best friend, who else would want to be?)Read More
I hate talking about money, but sometimes it's inevitable. Money makes me sad, the way its value and weight changes from country to country, the way it controls actions, the way it determines the exchange of goods, the way it provides "freedom" in some cases. The way it's the only currently available way I can acquire 6 pounds of pork shoulder until I decide to defy better judgement and start a pig and cattle farm. The more money you have, the farther it seems you can go.Read More