1) I keep hearing pitter-pattering above my head, and I’m hoping it’s squirrels on the roof and not a family of mice inside the ceiling (this is not a “confession” as much as a current event.)
2) I went to Barnes and Noble today with the intention of buying gifts for other people, and I left with one “real” gift, two books I plan to give away but not until I read them first, and three books I bought just for myself.
Sadly, I consider this a success.
3) I have a DailyHoroscope app on my phone, and I’m oddly fascinated with it. The horoscopes are so accurate that I refuse to read them every day because I feel like doing so would be an abuse of their power. So today was one of the days I checked it, but instead of checking my own, I decided to check my ex-boyfriend’s.
“You aren’t the soft and sappy type, Aries. You’re quite tough and resilient. And yet there is one area of your life in which you are quite vulnerable. It may be love, or it may have to do with one of your talents. In the last year or so, something happened that caused you to put up a wall in that area of your life in an effort to protect yourself. You may not even realize you did it, but it is there nonetheless, and it has prevented you from experiencing joy. It’s time to do some deep thinking and then to knock that wall down. Great happiness is in store if you can let the light back in.”
Bahhhhhhh. I am familiar with that wall, and it was one of those moments where I thought “If only he could read this!” And then my brain went into overdrive.
Lesson learned: individuals of sound mind can turn crazy in pursuit of having their exes read pertinent horoscopes. I did not actually follow through with any of my “anonymously sent horoscope” plans, but I’m ashamed that the ideas came to me so quickly.
4) While we’re on the topic, my ex-boyfriend’s name kept appearing in the titles of books at B&N today, particularly in the Christian Living section. Evidently he’s the name of a new fad diet.
5) The other day I ate pumpkin straight out of a can. I believe it was meant to be used as pie filling, but when I bought it, I was thinking: a) it’s on sale, and b) I like pumpkin. So I mixed in some cinnamon and maple syrup and it tasted fine to me.
6) Today I did no exercise whatsoever.
That sounds like the confession of a tween. But last night I swore I would go to the gym because of the dinner I had. A friend I hadn’t seen in six years came to visit me in Rhode Island, and we went to a cute, local restaurant. I drank two cocktails (one before and one after dinner), ate an appetizer (butternut squash soup with apple, walnuts, crème fraîche, red wine, and prunes), shared two entrees (Narragansett Creamery Ricotta Gnocchi and Braised Monkfish), and ate an ENTIRE dessert sans two bites, which I had to force my friend to eat because he was the one who ordered it! I didn’t even look at the dessert menu because I was already full. The thought of drinking an espresso martini was too much, but he asked the waiter to bring “whatever this chocolate dessert is”—it came in the same dish a crème brule might. The bottom layer was a chocolate mousse-like pudding, with some caramel or tapioca-like substance on top, with three dollops of homemade whipped cream, nuts, and a generous dousing of cocoa powder. He said he ordered it “just because” and planned to throw it away after a single bite. Being the harbinger of dessert justice, I could not let it go to waste. So I ate the whole thing.
I wish I’d at least thought to take a picture. I’m losing my touch.
7) I DID, however, take a picture of the three breakfasts Matt and I shared when he was visiting Rhode Island.
(BBQ chicken hash with peppers, red onions, poached eggs and toast; the eggs benedict special with home-fried potatoes; espresso, walnut, and cranberry vegan pancakes with mocha maple syrup. Not pictured: Chai Tea Latte and Soy Hot Chocolate)
I later polished off a box of gluten-free, dairy-free chocolate chip cookies he left in my apartment. They sound gross but were actually delicious.
8) I have a growing obsession with Twitter. I never used it before, really, except to flaunt my love for Gerard Butler and pester Anna Kendrick (the frequency with which people compare the two of us is something I thought she’d like to know*). Well, after I went to a concert last month and met the musicians, I developed a slight crush on one of the artists, and I tagged a picture of us on Twitter.
*I was mistaken
Come to find out, HE’s now following ME on Twitter! I nearly burst into a fountain of skittles. Since then I’ve gone on a tagging spree and I’m afraid that he’ll subsequently decided to un-follow me.
Chris, if you’re reading this, I’d be happy to grab coffee with you the next time you’re in New England. I’m not as creepy as I appear (please disregard the first half of this list. Actually, all of this list. Thx.)
9) I had a really great day on Tuesday, but I refuse to write a blog about it because whenever I write about my good days, the universe notices and balances my optimism by smiting me.
However, because I am prone to saying things at work like: “You know what sucks? Mean people,” I feel I ought to make note of what is really awesome, and that is nice people. For example, my restaurant regulars came in for lunch and brought me a Christmas card (I showed it off to everyone; I was so happy), and at the end of my shift my managers gave me a “WOW” card, redeemable for a free lunch or dinner. As a testament to my manager’s appreciation and/or level of boredom, he decorated it, and by his request, I’ve taken a picture.
10) My worst confession, and the reason for this post:
I ate ice cream 😦
It was, however, a complete accident.
No, the ice cream didn’t magically float into my mouth, and no, I wasn’t unconscious when I ate it, but here’s what happened:
My table ordered two Banana Spring Rolls (the most awesome dessert we have), and they come with a giant scoop of pineapple coconut ice cream.
Typically backwaiters retrieve ice cream for the pantry chef, but there were no backwaiters that day, so it was the server’s job. Well, for being such a strong individual *cough cough* I have dainty little wrists, and I can’t scoop ice cream worth crap. I asked the head chef to help me, in the style of Scarlet O’Hara, and he was like, “Well…since you asked in that way,” and after he got the bowls for me, he took an extra spoonful for himself.
My instinctive reaction was to make a noise of jealousy because the pineapple coconut ice cream is bomb, and I guess he heard me because when I turned around again, he was like, “Here. This is for you,” and it was a mini-bowl of ice cream.
It was in my mouth before I even realized what I’d done. And besides that, it was a gift. I can’t reject a gift, especially when it was my stupid gut-reaction whine that prompted him to give it to me in the first place.
So, I ate it.
BUT I have not touched what’s in my own freezer, and I do not plan to eat ice cream for the rest of December. I can’t imagine that the chocolate-mousse-whipped cream dessert and espresso pancakes with mocha syrup are any better for me, but no matter. A bet is a bet.
I’m sorry for being a wanker. It wasn’t on purpose.