Lobstah roll food truck

Picture it: I'm at the market and receive a text from a pal regarding the whereabouts of the DC lobster roll truck. It's down the street, and do I want to meet her for a quick lunch. OMG, yes please. I arrived first and immediately befriended a fantastically jolly man who, as it turned out, loves food as much as I do. After we ordered, he said "sounds like you eat like a fat man." People, I was delighted. A high compliment. This was a darn good lunch and a fun, spontaneous time.

NY mag

I suppose that much of my love for NY magazine is because I lived in NYC for three years and adored it. Also the magazine has a kick-ass crossword on its last page. But, truly, it also boasts terrifically skilled and witty journalism, and I love to spend an evening with a recent issue when I can.Two observations from the issue I'm reading now: 1) Ellen Barkin is awesome. I was lucky to see her in The Normal Heart and have long admired her anyway, but her complete unwillingness to engage in any(!) BS is so refreshing. What spirit she has. I'm not saying I want her to be my mother, but I do think she's fantastically appealing. 2) Hilar quote from a Democratic consultant re: Scott Brown: "He's trying to position himself as the third woman from Maine."

Wine is nice, bolognese awaits

I have not had a drop to drink since T left- too tired, too much risk that even a measly ounce would wreck the little sleep I might count on. But today, while good overall...well, it was long as get-out, and when 6:00p rang, I opened a bottle o' white and said cheers to myself. Were the boys already in bed you might wonder? Indeed. If those loons want to get up at 5:35a and have such enormous bags under their eyes that you wonder if you could shop with them, then they can get their patooties in bed at 6. Oliver's teacher called me today to let me know that he'd fallen into a chair and busted his lip. Did he trip? Did someone push him? No, he fell over his own foot with no one around. Y'all think he was tired? Good grief. Due to some sort of vacuum-fuse-circuit malfunction in the living room yesterday, I am without any phone line, music, TV, etc on the main floor until T gets home to unscramble the ridiculous bird's nest of wires behind the media center. I tried but to no avail. This is a very annoying situation and relegates me to the basement for any computer work that requires the internet, read: all computer work. The only positive thing about this is that I need the monitor to hear the boys- I can mute them, friends. So when Oliver engaged in an over-tired, apoplectic rage today about how he did not want to nap (but then proceeded to drop into a dead-like slumber), I could turn him into nothing more than a spectrum of red lights. I'm in the basement again now, sipping wine and listening to him sing Bob the Builder in a half-sleep state. Jack is listening to a Johnny Appleseed book-on-tape. They're pretty darn cute.

Due to my random schedule and kitchen experiments today, I was nothing more than a grazer after that nice scone breakfast. As such, I'm definitely hungry now but had the marvelous -if I say so myself- foresight to thaw some homemade bolognese sauce for dinner. A simple cook of some tagliatelle, and I'm set for a gourmet meal and an early bedtime.