Dinner With Emma

Emma came over for dinner last night.

We ate baked ziti, and then, since I was in a celebratory mood, I made chocolate souffle. In mugs, because I don't have ramekins.



(I probably would have made chocolate souffle even if I was not in a celebratory mood. It's really quite delicious.)

Then she helped us change our lightbulbs. Emma's that kind of friend.

I am the opposite of a homebody.

Unless I have guests, I will happily spend as few waking hours in my house as is feasible. Which is why it was weird yesterday when I woke up and all I wanted to do was stay at home. So I did.

I ventured out for breakfast with my dad, but since I went less than two blocks from my house, I would say that doesn't really count.

I folded a lot of laundry. (I even broke out the iron!)

I couldn't stop thinking about oatmeal, so I had some for lunch. On the weekends I cook it in milk instead of water, and I put as much brown sugar on top as I want. It was perfect.

I finally put up the Abigail! letters that I bought in an antique shop right when I moved back to Boston. They lived above my windows in the last apartment, and I hadn't found the right spot for them in this one. Right by my bed is perfect.

I ended the night with Wives and Daughters, tea, and a chocolate snack.

It was the perfect homebody Sunday.

Happy Monday, friends!

p.s. I have done a terrible job getting caught up on birthday posts. Expect some more, especially one for a friend who has a birthday today!

Cait

This is Cait.
Cait and I met at Dartmouth, and several months ago, she had a birthday.

I love Cait for lots of reasons. Some of them are:

1. You can always depend on Cait to be there when you need her. If you're moving, Cait will be there, ready to haul boxes and mattresses until every last knicknack is in its proper place. If you've had boy trouble, Cait will be there with ice cream and gin, ready to curse his name 'till kingdom come.
2. Cait is a Dartmouth woman through and through. I cannot name a single person who loves our college more, and seeing it through her eyes always reminds me how lucky I was to spend four years there.
3. Cait is perhaps the only person in the world whose appreciation of that fine combination of classic cocktails and casseroles exceeds my own. Long email discussions of both of these items frequently result in me sitting at my computer, drooling at the thought of processed food products, at 10 o'clock on a workday.
4. Cait's writing is some of the most beautiful on the internet. If you don't read her blog already, you are in for a treat. Go, read, lose a couple of hours, and feel more insightful for it.
5. Even though I think it nearly killed her, Cait showed remarkable patience when waiting for her birthday post. Unlike some other people.
6. Cait loves her friends deeply and openly. Those of us who are lucky enough to be recipients of this love are better people for it.

Happy Happy, Cait!
I'm so glad you were born.

Lisel

This is Lisel.

Lisel and I were friends the instant we met, and she had a birthday a whole lot of months ago.

I love Lisel for lots of reasons. Some of them are:

1. Lisel is the most loving, open person you'll ever meet. I have never met anyone who does as good a job letting their friends know how much she loves them as Lisel does.
2. Lisel is silly. You should see her introduce people to stuffed animals. Or listen to her make inanimate objects talk.
3. Lisel loves children. She is currently finishing up grad school to become a teacher, and I know that the world will be a better place to have her shaping young minds.
4. Lisel gets a kick out of things. Whenever she comes to visit in Boston, or I go to visit her in New York, we do all sorts of fun things that are made so much better for her enthusiasm. Cupcake cafe, anyone?
5. Lisel is the most scheduled person you will ever meet. In college, we used to make plans to eat an early dinner for twenty minutes starting at 5:50. It was really amazingly organized.
6. Lisel is a rock. There is no other way to describe it, really. During one really rough time in my life, I spent three months mostly sitting on Lisel's bedroom floor (I would leave to go to class, and sometimes to sleep, but that's about it.) Her loving support saw me through to the other side, and I will always, always be grateful.

Happy Happy, Lisel!
I'm so glad you were born.

On Birthdays

A year ago this past November, just as I was starting to get really into blogging, my friend Lisa had a birthday. Lisa was (and is!) one of my dearest friends, and what better way to celebrate her birth and her value in my life, than to make a list of reasons why I loved her. And thus the birthday post was born.

The birthday post is a wonderful tradition; I love sitting down and really thinking about the people in my life, about what, exactly, they bring to the table that no one else can hope to replicate. The problem with the birthday post is the problem with publicly making a list of people who are important to you: you inevitably leave people out. It's not because these people are any less important to you, it's just because you are a flake. And so, rather than hurt more people's feelings with my own flakiness, I just kind of. . . stopped writing them.

The problem with that is that I miss writing birthday posts. A lot, as it turns out. And there are important people whose place in my life didn't get celebrated. So this week, my lovelies, I'm going to play catch up. If you don't know me in real life, it might be a little boring, and for that I'm sorry, but these people are important and amazing, so I'm going to indulge myself and celebrate them. Tomorrow is Lisel, and we'll go from there.

Happy Monday, friends!

Tacos Lupita

Do you guys know I used to live in San Francisco?

It's true. For a year after college, I pretended to be a crazy Californian. Then I realized I was far too neurotic to make it out there, so I moved home and here I am.

One thing I really miss about California is the food. (Also my friends, I suppose. But really, the burritos.) Last night, while walking home from the grocery store, I decided to finally stop into Tacos Lupita, the place everyone says to go when you're looking for good South American food in Boston.



It's charming, in the way that any good taqueria is. A little bit run-down, but a lot bit delicious.



Everyone was right. The tacos al pastor filled my belly and made me miss San Francisco just a little bit less. I can't wait to go back.

P.S. That bit in my last post about "being the person I've always dreamed about being?" Oh dear me. What was I talking about? I mean, yeah, I accomplished a lot, but I like to think I aim a bit higher than going for long runs and making cakes! And then bragging about it all on the internet? Ugh. Thanks for the supportive comments, though!

Happy Monday!

Happy Monday, friends!

On Saturday, I was the kind of person I dream about being. I woke up early, ran nine miles, and made ganache for the cheesecake monstrosity that Ben requested for his birthday. (If you are my friend, you get to request whatever kind of birthday cake you want. I try to make my friendship worthwhile, you see.) Then I raced downtown, volunteered at a soup kitchen with Cait, and came home to make a cherry-cognac sauce and take the cheesecake monstrosity on the ride of its life.

{Don't you just love the red line? The cheesecake monstrosity does.}

{Why use birthday candles when skinny glowsticks are even more fun?}

{That brown smudge is a homemade brownie. The other one is the chocolate teddy graham crust. The third is the ganache. Missing from photo: the cherry-cognac sauce.}

Sunday I made up for all that active productivity by staring really hard at my computer and trying to get stuff done. I was moderately successful.

How about you? Lazy weekend? I think I'm maybe a little jealous.