The weekend is winding down. DKM is already back at work while I'm loafing on the sofa at my leisure. I have the apartment to myself. This rarely happens. To celebrate, I'm drinking coffee and listening to really loud music. I've been up for four hours now. Haven't had breakfast but HAVE enjoyed two carafes of coffee. I'm doing the caffeine dance...fingers shakin, eyeballs buggin, mouth dryin. This state of bliss will last another hour or so before I have to get my ass up and do some work.
We started our weekend at the Four Seasons' Library Bar. The Four Seasons is a beautiful and classy place to get drunkenly brutalized. You know the type -- beautiful dark wood, big leather chairs, and olives stuffed with blue cheese on the table. It's always full of flush, red-faced businessmen, drinking wine and leering at the statuesque piano player who wears a ballgown every night. I just love it.
At the library bar, I've taken to ordering dirty martinis because they are sophisticated looking. I then spend 45 minutes choking them down, pretending to reallllyyyyy like it, all the while hoping it will be over soon. Poser.
This tactic is unquestionably lame, but it's how I beat my palette into enjoying tastes that I don't like now, but plan to someday. Someone once told me it takes your tongue 12 times to get used to a new/unpleasant taste and after you try it a dozen times, you will likely enjoy it. This has worked for things like Guinness beer, dark coffee and olives.
Sure, I've tasted straight vodka more than 12 times, but it still makes my face screw up in an unattractive ball of horror. I am determined to become a dirty martini girl. It's fun to order and looks good in photographs. Hating myself again and again.
We went to a bbq lat night, hosted by one of DKM's work buddies. It was unreal...plates upon plates of traditional Arabic food...hummus, fattoush, kofta, kebabs, moutabel. Fucking ay. PLUS, there was a pooch there. A real live one! It was small and hilarious, with a wonky leg. In other words, everything I could have hoped for. It's like God heard me whining about the lack of dogs in Doha and sent a little ball of fuzz my way. Happy.
Speaking of dogs, here's a video of a trio of pugs doing what they do best -- being hilarious and adorable. I recommend watching this video as is, then re-watching it on mute. Put some country bumpkin music on and proceed. YouTube magic.
Personal favour? Click on this New York Times piece about Toronto BeeJays pitcher Roy Halladay. We should direct as much traffic there as possible to let the NYTimes people know that he issss the bestest. Can't believe I'll miss opening day this year. Will have to wait until July to watch the Jays play. And yes, I will be organizing my trip home around an extended homestand. Obvs. See you there friends.
Bethenny Frankel is still at the beach
6 months ago