Proof that my ovaries or other womanly things may indeed be functional: I read this story today and teared up. Sometimes, shit like this gets into my head and I freak out about the possibility of Noah dying and then I have to go and make sure he's alive and well by basically wrapping myself around him.
I think I'll make us both pina coladas now.
(why no option for an accent over the "n", TextEditor? This is going to drive me nuts.)
Things I cannot live without, today:
Trader Joe's Cream Shave. Like the fancy Alba stuff, but way cheaper. And it doesn't promise to sparkle or smell like Raspberry Riot or anything offensive, which makes me happy.
Alba lip balm, as recommended by Chaptastic. Yes, it's $3.50 a tube, and I go through a tube in a matter of weeks, but this stuff kicks ass. Plus, it's not waxy or glossy, so it's basically Magic Invisible Lip Stuff.
Last night, to top off the giant Indian buffet lunch we had with Nic, Noah and I went to Trocadero for $5 mojitos and snacks. And when snacks included pate (SEE? see what I mean about the ability to do accents?!?), my love for all meat products increased greatly. Oh god, why did I go vegetarian for ten years and deprive myself of the goodness of pate with chutney and caperberries and french bread? I've got a lot of duck liver eating to do to make up for lost time on this.
And today, following upon yesterday's Indian excesses and the brie and pate platter, when I woke up already full, I felt it necessary to get some cannoli*. Sciortino's, I am in awe of your mascarpone skills.
*Cannoli in Milwaukee rules. I've never had a bad cannoli here. And for some reason, they're crazy-cheap. If you're ever in town, you owe it to yourself to A: imbibe as much cheap beer as possible, and B: stuff yourself full of cannoli the next day.