It's 3 p.m. Do you know where your favorite blogger is? Goodness. Apparently it's almost May. Every once in a while, I look up from the chaos that is my life and briefly shake the insanity out of my hair, take a look around. Look! The trees are in full flower!
I was not, in fact, a badass on Saturday. I skipped the 5K and have only recently decided to stop the ensuing self-flagellation. (And, whoa. Do NOT look that up on Wikipedia. Please. For the record, I do not own a cat-o'-nine-tails.) Instead, I made a massive brunch — this egg dish, plus homemade breakfast potatoes and bowls of fresh, ripe blackberries — and moped on the sofa for a couple of hours before I finally came around, laced up my sneakers and went out for a little…2K of my own. So there was that.
Most of the weekend revolved around food, as they normally do around here. Saturday evening included a trip over to Kedzie Avenue for a Persian-dinner date night on Saturday — during which I found myself doubled over in pain for 15 minutes — followed by scoops from a pint of Ben & Jerry's new Milk & Cookies ice cream; Sunday's travels included a trip to Crate & Barrel to buy The Joy of Cooking and a kitchen scale — which I've been told I need to prepare food with the proper ratios — and the evening's dinner project was homemade chicken parmigiana with sautéed spinach. Damn you, Jamie Oliver, for rekindling my interest in cooking when I have absolutely no time to be tinkering in the kitchen. I'm a newly enlisted foot soldier of the Food Revolution. That, and he's helping me perfect my terrible British accent.
But amid the intermittent feeding frenzies, I was also writing. Writing, writing, writing. Two thousand, one hundred ninety-eight words, to be exact. Let's talk about sex, indeed. Those 2,198 words will be up here later this week, after my reading on Wednesday. I'm actually really proud of what I've written — and we'll see how I feel after I've read it, too. If you live in Chicago and enjoy this blog, please come to Uncommon Ground on Devon at 8 p.m. to check out the event. You get food, drink and music, too. Add that to the main event, and you have basically the four best things in life. And I'll probably hug you. Judging by the number of drinks I'll likely have before I start my reading, I'm going to be feeling seriously affectionate. Think it over.
Back to my regularly scheduled chaos.