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Readers,

There once was a boy who was abandoned.
There once was a boy who was abandoned by she-who-must-not-be-named.

However, this mysterious she left behind a mysterious box.
And within said mysterious box were gifts abound.

And his pain was eased.
And his heart was ceased.

Observe:

Clockwise from bottom left: candied/dried cantaloupe, thank you card, box, spaghetti cooker thinger/strainer thinger/kitchen utensil holder thinger, can opener, pot, chocolate covered sunflower seeds, massive big o’ thing of olive oil

But his heart still ached often so...

However, all was not lost for this mysterious she taught him how to make spa-ghet-ti (that rhymed!).

But he got creative. Observe:

Ingredients: Piccolini mini farfalle, garlic salt, pepper, dried basil, basil-basil (aka, Martha) olive oil, grape tomatoes, feta cheese

In order to squelch pain forevermore, he replaced her with another he:



A boy that knew how to feed, for eating was his destiny.

And so concludes the saga of the TAWN-TAWN-Y-Y-Y upgrade!

Bam.

FIN

In other news, Nunz was here this weekend. I think I got whatever Ammiel has/had, because my throat hurts.

Push Pops are genius. Dirty.

I should have bought that hat from New York on our road trip! The way her dreads meld together reminds me of Diane Pernet.

Nunz at Caffe Tosi

I scream for ice cream.

I probably got AmmiLOVE-cooties from this pumpkin deliciousness.

It hailed today.
It snowed today.
What will tomorrow bring?

I need me some gloves.

End.

Really? Eat you up?

For some reason, I am reminded of Jae when BoA sings: so yum, yum. That girl can put down some Mediterranean food...

And, of course, Daul with her craze forkin’ ways.

Death by laughter

I almost died at work today.

Tawny triple whams me with a blog comment sandwiched in between two email messages.

The latter email message had to do with a certain, shall we say, proclivity I have in my choice of words, especially in front of certain persons. I do not tell people what they want to hear. I just sensor myself and let them think what they want without correcting them, well, sometimes—or ever.



You know you miss your PC. I understand.

In other news, I downloaded CameraBag for my 3G. I should stop calling it that. 3G is a network/portal/service/whatever. It means nothing to me here in southwest Michigan. I reasoned it would make-me-take-more-pictures which would translate into more visuals which would encourage me to blog more. And it was temporarily on sale for $2.99 USD! I love me some sales.



I think I like it. I have yet to determine if it drains my battery. Anyway, that slight green thing is not a burn on your monitor nor is it mold. It is Martha, the basil plant (amidst mini farfalle) Tawny brought me from California! She purchased an extra coach seat beside her and brought me some true Californian basil/weed/magic. It makes everything taste better. Baking some brownies? Pluck in some Martha. Not a fan of Brussels? Toss in some Martha!

Yeah, I water her (almost) every day.
And then I pluck her.
And eat her.

At this rate, she just may expire all her leafy green-ness before the end of her official stint. You know, like another certain green, ahem, she.

But I digress. I mean, I support love.

And all that jazz.

Sugar

Tawny says I have until midnight (EST) to blog a new entry.

Melanie, I dedicate this to you:

Reason Why BFFs Are Irreplaceable #586

The last time I had huevos rancheros was when Nadine made them for me as a farewell breakfast before I left for Greece, just last summer. I took this picture to show Tawny then promptly dropped my 3G in it.



Speaking of eats and Tawny (seriously, are they ever two distinct and separate entities?), I got back from Chicago with Karen a few hours ago and just now saw this brilliance posted on my bathroom mirror:



Transcribed:

chew chew,

theres potato casserole in the fridge
and 2 slices of peach if ur hungry

tawny

Awesome.

This week is off to a good start. I can taste it.

24

Good morning, Tawny!

Hello, readers/friends/stalkers, etc.

Friday, I turned the big two-four.



We ate at Clementine’s (literally, ohmydarling.com) for a meal o’ fun. It was a pleasant surprise since I was telling Tawny earlier that day (yes, Tawny, I did make some specifications even though I took a-day-plus-forever to make other, ahem, decisions) that I just wanted a simple, daresay distilled, grub session with her, Irvin and Anna. But no complaints on this end; I was/am-still a happy camper.

Even though I showed up slightly late to my own part-ay (had a prior Chase bank appointment to open up a new account), time waiting was time well spent since I was able to download the MySpace app and figure out how to send Nunz a reply comment via said medium right as Pat and company strolled in to the location.

Speaking of iPhone apps (and serendipitous symbiance), Mello dearest sends me a message in perfect sync with the complete consumption of my on-the-house birthday treat à la mode. Tawny is right. You were there in spirit. How did you know? But then again, I mean, how can anyone not know? For more pictures of said event, go here.

Also, I came back to my apartment where Anna left me a genius card (a staple I have now come to expect and truly anticipate), a gift (I went from zero iPods to three) and a custom baked birthday cake. Ace of Cake, my arse! I choose A-Anna over A-Ace any (birth)day, for sure.

In other news, Tawny, Irvin, Andrew and I went peach pickin’ Saturday afternoon. I guess it was more like Tawny, Irvin and Andrew went to gather fruits while I popped them in my mouth. It was delicious, I assure you, but not the plums. Also, the clouds were pretty. Again, check the Tawn-tawn MySpace for a picture or few.

Alright, it is time to slumber. Being a working man has its downfalls; it has me retreat earl(y/ier).

Or maybe it is just the age.

*EDIT

The fruit pickin’ photos are here (as per usual).

Delicious.

P.S.

Viral marketing? Leave Britney alone, Mello!

*EDIT

Melanie, my love—

I am listening to Rob Dougan’s Clubbed to Death and reading Augusten Burroughs’ Magical Thinking.

It’s wonderful, the combination.

A bit intoxicating, yes. But wonderful, nonetheless. Sensory overload. Just wonderful.

How are you?

I write to you, because I am using your Polaroid as a bookmark.

I thought you should know.

XOXO