11.25.03 - 4:19 p.m.

I have a problem. It's a small fixation (possibly teetering on the border of obsession) with the Homestar Runner Quote of the Day or So. "And somebody's a-gwabbin' mah buuuuttt!" I listen to the mp3 relentlessly. I quote it poorly and repeatedly to Dan. It runs in a continuous loop in my head. Oh, torture, that I cannot create one of those little talking keychains with a figure of Homestar and his accompanying audio!

Since we got back from Seattle, my skin is clearer. Is it possible that the climate altered my body chemistry?

Fashion update: I finally had the nerve to wear my Dolce and Gabbana cords to work. Although they are comfy as shit and seriously feel like I'm wearing my velour sweats around, they look tight. They hug my ass in an uncomfortably sexy way. Yet every time Dan sees me trying them on in the boudoir, he gets a funny smile and says, "You look goooood." Perhaps he wants to be a-gwabbin' mah buuuuuttt? Hee! I have received four comments on the pants from co-workers, so obviously the pants were a good choice and reasonably work-appropriate. It is very hard to resist the urge to shout, "They're my first pair of Dolces! Wooo!"

Food update: We successfully recreated the raspberry-lemon ice cream from our night at Angelina in Philly. Thank you, ice cream cookbook from Sur la Table. An added bonus to this adventure was that I was able to make lemon curd for the first time. I think I almost like the creation of the meal more than the actual eating of it. Almost. It's fun to follow a recipe and put all the steps together.

Next up, I'd like to make aioli, but I'd really like to do it Julia Child-style with a mortar and pestle. And since there is no schmancy cooking store close enough to work that I could buy one on company time, it will have to wait. Instead I'll have to content myself with pecorino coins, sundried tomato spread and MORE raspberry-lemon ice cream for the Thanksgiving posse.