June 20, 2009

• Sometimes I feel like I spend all of my time thinking up ways to eat more food, better food…and sometimes healthier food.    Italian food is one of those deceptive things.  What could be easier than pasta and tomato sauce? But no, while both are good (because truly… who can resist noodly goodness in any form?), one is like me on a night I try to dress up.  Only satisfied as long as I’m looking in your own mirror, but the moment I stand next to a truly beautiful girl in a truly stunning ensemble, the realization of awkwardness and wrongness is oh so painfully obvious.   
  Jim and I went on a date tonight to this little Italian wine and coffee bar where all the locals go to swing dance and learn the lindy hop.  It’s been on our list for awhile, but we only finally got a chance to go tonight.  So amazing.  I prefer to support local venues and this one has the added attraction of having truly scrumptious food that would make Olive Garden blush so hard it would disappear in a cloud of embarassed smoke.   Seriously.

  I was drooling looking through the lastest Anthroprologie catalog when I was reminded of a Friends episode where Rachel tricks Phoebe into thinking the stuff she bought from pottery barn was original one of a kind pieces.   Phoebe is apalled when she finds out her authentic apocathary table is just your standard, factory made table, mass produced by starving children in China.  And yeah, I guess I kinda had the same wonderings.  As much as I love the gorgeous eye candy at anthro, I thought I’d try my hand at making some truly original, one of a kind stuff (in my own sweatshop filled with very authentic crying babies). 

  

  

  In other news:   Jamie is on a hunger strike. 

  • 2:04 am
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