When you have a best old friend forever you’ve known since you were 12 (she says 11), you can read each others’ minds. Amy and I did a lot of that this past weekend, and it usually ended up with a smirk or a cackle. I kicked her ass about not listening to her inner sex goddess. She kicked my ass about not doing all I can in creating my own career – i.e., blog (my answer, why does anyone care what I eat or drink?); nonexistent website (my answer, one more website?); book dreams (my answer, more trees cut down?).
Well, needless to say, she’s right. In MY universe, it matters. My new mantra. And being the dedicated existentialist, I feel this resonates with me. Not that I’ll become a Food-Network-workin’/global-wine-drinkin’/Barnes&Noble-readin’ superstar, but mainly, there are things I feel I want to do (besides eat, drink and be merry). So here goes – This little entry is just to wish you all (all two of you) a Happy New Year, Hogmanay, etc. and to see what happens. Oh, and to make sure you order the “Last Gloaming” cocktail at the Teardrop Lounge in Portland, next time you go. And that you check out the cocktails and deviled quail and duck eggs at The Secret Society. That’s where we (she and I) spent New Year’s Eve, (my birthday), watching scary men behind Eyes Wide Shut masks and beautiful women in feathers and glitter. Oh, and drinking a buncha Champagne cocktails. Next day: pasta. Yeah, yeah, I have New Year’s resolutions – but as Sophia Loren said, “All I am, I owe to pasta.” In my Universe, that matters.
