Time For Posole
Jon and I are headed to a wedding in New Mexico tomorrow. All I can say is thank Christ for that. We are desperate to get away and recharge after what I can only describe as a hideously awful week.
I realize I haven't been a very good whore lately. I'm sorry, really. If you knew the insanity that has been in my world recently, you might not hate on me.
On a positive note, the week's haps inspired Jon and I to eat fancy dinner at La Folie last night, which was charming as always, and I stopped being such a pussy and drank a 1/2 glass of Champage -- the first alcohol that has passed my lips in the 30 weeks I've been growing Diner #3. Something about a French sommelier can make me do just about anything. On another positive note, sometimes being in hell inspires you to finally find a permanent way out, which I have done. I think we can all drink to that.
The book deadline is Friday. After that, I'm only writing for you, sweetcheeks.
"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld