2004-11-11 - 6:48 p.m. slack, slacker, slackingMy beloved (seen here) and I have spent the bulk of this week hiding in bed. I mean, it's been raining for a week, so, really, we had no other choice. And, besides, as of Monday, when I re-enter the 8-5 working world, I'll be forced to leave home every day at an ungodly hour regardless of motivation or precipitation.Hence, the slothfulness. Much time has been spent reading a billion blogs, the entire NY Times every day, my stack of unread magazines, and books I checked out from the library, including "Women Who Eat" and "The Rose Pistola Cookbook". This week has also seen the publication of my review of the 540 Club which makes me very happy (I'm reviewing a wine bar for them next.) I spent all day Sunday volunteering for the Family Winemakers tasting, and though I tasted a good amount of wine, just wasn't feeling it over all. The tie between my love of food and wine and expressing my love for someone appears to be interfering with my enjoyment of these pleasures...or something like that. Perhaps someday I shall meet my prince, and he'll cook for me, and we'll fall giddily in love and live happily ever after. Until then, I'll have the new job to distract me. Out of town friends (gay democrats from OH in need of some cheering up) here for the next 6 days shall also keep me busy. I intended more depth to this entry but I'm somehow too tired. My apologies. Instead, here are some borrowings from my other journal for your enjoyment.
under the tuscan sun Maybe I'm not ready to go back to Italy. And maybe you move on, but never really get over some things. Or, maybe I really do need to go back, to help get through it. Or, perhaps I should save up to buy my own house in Tuscany. It is impossible to know. I need a sign.
Not So Silent Night
Love Meme
Off now to peruse some brioche recipes.
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