Dear Blog,
Thank goodness no one reads you yet. I have been quite neglectful. If I fill you in, will you forgive me?
Oh, good, well then, February jostled along happily with the stellar company of the French intern. Who may or may not have earned himself the nickname Buttcrack Boy. It was....hypnotic. Especially when he bent to fill the dishwasher. (I know! The dishwasher! At work, sometimes whole days go by and if I don't empty it, or J doens't, it stays full and everyone else in the office scrats around for cracked old cups rather than stooping to such a domestic level in the workplace. Wtf?)
March revolved around returning to the comforting bosom of NYC, for a visit with beloved Crumpet, before she leaves the city for Law School. We yelped continuously to come up with the ultimate list of places to go and things to eat. I drew all my clothes on my packing list, washed them and tried them on and finally packed them. I packed a divine pair of sky high heels I never even wore. They didn't even make it out of the bag.
At my Dad's request I kept a log of everything we ate. And so guess what? A week among the delicious gastronomy of New York is what blogs are made of. So settle down, promise you won't tot up the calories as you go, and enjoy hearing how I gained my extra half a stone....*
* I actually deigned to go on the an Atkins-ish eating plan for a full week before the trip, in an attempt to even out the fat damage from spending a week eating with Crumpet. What on earth is all that about? I was positively weak. I reminded myself of Lula in 'To The Nines' by Janet Evanovich, when she keeps all that bacon stashed in her purse and gets chased by dogs. Not that that actually happened to me, but after a week without rice it didn't seem all that outrageous.
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