Recently heard this cover from dubstep star James Blake, singing one of my favorite songs of all time. Is it possible to love something that always makes you want to cry? The lyrics are a marvel
"Just before our love got lost, you said,
I am as constant as a Northern star,
And I said, constant in the darkness,
Where's that at?
If you want me I'll be in the bar"
And it only gets better from there.
First things first: someone bought my rug on eBay! It's headed to Brooklyn, which is good. People in Brooklyn will understand the cookie monster rug.
Now that that's out of the way, how was your Thanksgiving?
My chef extraordinaire brother Dan spatchcocked our turkey. That involves removing the spine so the turkey lays flat and cooks more evenly. Norman Rockwell, it ain't. But it turned out perfectly.
All week, my mom talked about cooking for 8 people, since my French nana, my boyfriend Joe and my roommate Christine were all nice enough to join us for dinner. Eight people, sure. Mom set the table and we all sat down and Dad said the prayer. Then Nana looked across the table and said, "Who is that chair for?" Sure enough, we miscounted and there was an empty tablesetting for no one, right in the middle of the table. I'll pretend it's for the memory of dear, departed Hunter.
Everything was beyond delicious. But good gravy, why did I eat so much? It's a horrible feeling after you've cleaned your plate and polished off the last piece of turkey. I always forget that feeling. You can barely move, and yet a pie and a cheesecake await. Of course you will eat them. As an American, it's your civic duty.
There's everyday, normal "full, couldn't eat another thing," then there is "Thanksgiving full." It's off the charts. At least this only happens once a year.
I didn't shop on Friday. Not my scene. When shoppers are pepper-spraying one another to get an advantage on buying Xboxes, something is severely out of whack. What did I do? Took advantage of a freak 60 degree day and played tennis outside with Joe, which is free.
Check out the photos from our trip to Annapolis with Tiffany and Jon on Saturday. Even the boats are decked out for the holidays.
But wait, what's that?
There's a cat as first mate!
This was the color scheme of my living room in my last apartment. I learned in my interior design class that blue is a complementary color for orange, a nice resting place for the eye. I took that to heart. But now I think it is time for a change. Thus, I am selling the blue flotaki rug that you see pictured here. Check out the eBay listing! I used my most persuasive marketing writing, as you'll see. Bidding starts at the low, low, price of 10 bucks. You'd be a fool to walk away from this one.
"Pie is the American synonym of prosperity, and its varying contents the calendar of the changing seasons. Pie is the food of the heroic. No pie-eating people can ever be permanently vanquished."
- 1902 New York Times editorial, via Parade Magazine
I read that and never felt more patriotic. Maybe pie can unite us once again. Happy baking everyone.
This photo was taken during the Phillips Collection's Birthday Bash, during a demonstration by ballerinas emulating Degas paintings in the next room over. So lovely!
I swear, Instagram makes any photo look great. It's the democratization of photography. A real game-changer. At least I thought that until I looked at these pictures from National Geographic's photo contest. Take a look and be inspired. No app can capture those kind of shots, only people with real talent.
Christine and Serena and I used to go to every Hirshhorn After Hours, but it fell off our radar for awhile. I hadn't been in about a year, but when we went back for old time's sake in October. Still a cool experience, maybe not as hip a crowd as in its heyday, but fun nonetheless. Fantastic art + drinks + music will always be a good time. We walked through the Andy Warhol: Shadows exhibit, the scale of which will knock you for a loop.
These girls are always the first ones on the dance floor.
They really crank the smoke machine up to 11 though. I could barely breathe. Every minute and a half, smoke would flood the dance floor.
This photo is going to be Christine's album cover.
High-five! Another party conquered!
