Aah, Sunday. I love you the way I love chocolate brownies or a heaping mug of tea. You fill me up.
Last night was unexpectedly awesome. My Better Half and I went over to my parent's house to make Christmas cake.* But of course, instead of doing actual work, we sat around drinking tea, playing with the cat, and watching Harry Potter.
The evening reinforced my belief that my cat (now my parent's cat) takes after her mum (me). As I have lately become smitten with all things purple, so has my kitty. My mother went to the trouble of re-upholstering a nice old chair with yummy mauve fabric. Unfortunately nobody has been able to use the chair, because my cat has claimed ownership over its cushiony goodness, and refuses to leave. My BH made the mistake of sitting on the chair when the kitty went to eat some food. Upon her return, finding her bed in use, she proceeded to hide under the rocking chair and glared at everyone until my BH felt uncomfortable and guilty enough to surrender his seat. Kitty wins, BH sits on the ottoman.
The victory stare:
The Best Of party at Barrymore's on Friday was very fun, but I was drunk long before I arrived and got increasingly un-sober throughout the evening. I spent an embarrassing amount of time ogling Boycrusher's bow-tied ensemble, and then took blurry, strange pictures of the club in between sets. A bit like this drunken number:
And I would like to make a strong recommendation to anyone craving totally delicious food. (That would be everyone, right?) Many of you know and love the Bangkok Thai Garden at Rideau and Dalhousie. They make the best food in the city, period. But I have discovered a close second. Taj Mahal, an Indian restaurant in the Glebe (next to the Pizza Pizza) makes a mean spread and offers some of the nicest service I've ever had. Eat there. You'll be happy. And so full.
Oh, jeez, I nearly forgot. Check it out..... UNDER CONSTRUCTION but so exciting.
*This was not really my idea. My mom loves making Christmas cake, and my BH loves eating Christmas cake. Once at a wedding, BH went around from table to table lifting pieces of pre-packaged Christmas cake that had been intended as a gift for the guests. Since not many people want to bring home wee bits of cake, they left the little wrapped bundles on their tables. BIG MISTAKE. My BH was eating those things for days. One of my favourite BH expressions is, "Christmas cake? I LOVE CHRISTMAS CAKE." When you hear him say this, you know he has dropped whatever it was he was doing, and is looking intently in the direction of the cake.