E and I have plenty to do in the week before Thanksgiving.
Tag Archives | breakfast
E and I were both emotional over breakfast yesterday.
E has figured out his Halloween costume. I have not.
I had two epic fails last week.
Rating: E asked me out for a wine date last night (how sweet!), since we hadn’t seen each other outside of the apartment all week. When we got home, he turned to the refrigerator. “Guess what I got?” he said.
I can’t do it all in the morning. But I try.
I looked around our house this morning. Clothes were everywhere. Trash hadn’t been taken out. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink. A cluttered house means a cluttered mind, and I had gone totally scatterbrained.
E and I have often criticized each other’s wardrobe with the same sharp tongue as an editor during Fashion Week.
Day two of Fashion Week, and I’m already on fumes. So is E.
I will be fasting for the next three days. Between the fried chicken, a few glasses of wine last night and today’s banana bread sandwiches, My thighs are crying. E’s might be, too.
Working on Labor Day? No way! This weekend, we made plans to get in some beach time for the last weekend of the summer.
TO DO LIST FOR THE WEEKEND
Rating: Our herbs had grown to an obscene height–they’re almost larger than the bamboo tree we have back there near the door. The only way to tame the forest growing on our balcony is to prune—and make pesto.
Yawn. Brush teeth. Make coffee. Check e-mail. Think about breakfast. Check fridge. Crepes. Crepes could work.
Fridays are a day of recess. They’re for planning the weekend, lingering over breakfast and arriving at work with a smile knowing you don’t have to come back the next day.
E has a criminal past. He’s a towel stealer.
The Sexy Project is working! Yesterday, E and I went to an event in Central Park, for which I wore a form fitting black dress with very low cut cleavage and sky high suede Miu Miu pumps. I was working a sexy 1920’s flapper look with my hair in an updo, and the dress’ below […]
E is raising the children in our herb garden to be bright, healthy young sprouts. The basil has grown into full, leafy stalks. Our dill is tall enough to come up to our knees. The mint is as big as a rose bush and our cilantro has flowered. I’m so proud of my little father. […]
What we did this weekend: Kite surfed. Slept. Yoga. Dined with friends. Added avocado to E’s forbidden foods list.
Friday morning! E and I got up early to sip coffee on our patio, and ponder what nice things we were going to do for our mommies for Mother’s Day Sunday. I sent a card. E did not. Who’s the better child? Ha! (Just kidding, he means well. Besides, I should really send flowers, too.)
E and I have totally different morning schedules. He works until 2 am and wakes up after 8, I’m up at 6:15 am for running/blogging/cooking/cleaning/teeth whitening/hellraising. Breakfast has been shortened to a two minute meeting over the stove.
E has this friend, Johnnie. He invites him to a lot of our parties. But every time Johnny shows up, there’s trouble. He makes E act silly, or makes E say silly things, or make E go to sleep and say nothing at all.
I’m training for the Brooklyn Half Marathon, and this morning I did one of my longer runs. Afterwards, I prepared a protein heavy large breakfast, to keep up my strength. And my sanity. When I don’t eat, I’m intolerable.
Not every sandwich comes out tasty. Or photogenic. Each meal is an experiment, and not all of them turn out successful.