Three cheers for good food frozen, tow-truck vafanculos

I am sooooo tired. After the migraine this morning, from which I recovered around 1p, Oliver and I took a walk and then decided to run by Vace, an Italian market, for pesto sauce and pizza crusts. DC folks- pay attention here. We went to the outpost in Bethesda where parking is always tight (4 spots). I parked in the 5th spot which did have a sign about belonging to the bank but their spots are never full and I knew I’d literally be three minutes. Well, after three minutes, Oliver and I walk out to find an effing tow truck with my car all hitched up and off the ground. I started running towards the guy, Oliver and the toy chain saw in my arms, and he just stood there and said, “I’m not gonna take it but you gotta pay to get it down, $50.” Seriously people, I, who had been in a very zen mood before that, almost blew my stack. After all was said and done, I watched as Joey pulled back across the street, not 15 feet, and parked, just waiting for the next sucker. JESUS H. Vafanculo means buttface in Italian, btw. Can you imagine having such a job? What you do makes people crazy with rage, cry in public places, waste money. I think I’m glad he’s employed but that’s the only positive thing I can say about Joey.

In fact, when I told Jack the story, I added to it with the fact that Joey had cigarettes and a lighter on his front seat- I know this because the lighter fell to the ground and I saw it all. Jack could do a PSA for an anti-smoking organization; it just offends the balls off of him, so pat on my back, because so far I’m doing well on that front. He was appalled and started talking about black lungs and yellow teeth and such. It made me feel better.

Then we had a fairly melodramatic start to a playdate but all calmed down and Jack and his good pal, A, had the best afternoon together. A’s mother is one of my favorite people so our visit was a treat too.

I am now pooped and was thinking of pie + ambien for dinner, but then I remembered something wonderful: one portion of my homemade (transcendently good) meatballs were just waiting to be loved out in the freezer. They’re warming up now and the kitchen smells divine. Red wine and migraines are mortal enemies but I’m considering a glass nonetheless. Tom’s out of town again so it’ll be an early night. Aah.