Garbage soup and being home alone

It is not uncommon for the Beast to have to fend for himself on a weeknight.

It is extremely rare, however, to find myself home alone. When it does happen, I am often overwhelmed with the anticipation of freedom: the very idea that I can eat and drink and watch whatever I want, with no debate, both thrills and paralyses me. Anything could happen.

Two weeks ago, the Beast had plans to see a concert with his older brother. It was happening. I was going to be home alone.

“I have no idea what I’m going to do tonight,” I told him that morning before I left for work.

“You could do what I do: read a play, masturbate, and then watch old episodes of Frontline on YouTube.”

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Who’s afraid of reading Virginia Woolf?

Beast: What do you think is the most-bought but least-read book in all of history?

Foodie: [Silence]

Beast: I bet it’s Gödel, Escher, Bach.

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Checking in, and checking out

Walking to an undisclosed location on a recent Friday evening to celebrate our 13th anniversary:

Foodie: I love the light out right now, and the way the snow has just sort of settled on the tree branches. It looks like a Bruegel landscape.

Beast: For fuck’s sake.

Foodie: What?

Beast: I didn’t know I’d be spending the night with Wordsworth.

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Risotto and resolutions

On a recent week night:

Foodie: What smells so good?

Beast: I’m making risotto for dinner. But I haven’t even started it yet. You’re probably smelling the chicken stock, which I made from scratch, heating up.

Foodie: What kind of risotto are you making?

Beast: Obviously Milanese. But I’m using chicken stock instead of beef and I’m adding peas.

Foodie: So not Milanese then. Can you help me get my coat off?

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Here’s to ‘Peter’s Friends’ and more dinner parties

Sometimes I imagine how it would feel to discover an episode of, say, Sex and the City, that I’ve never watched before.

Now I don’t have to because a couple of days ago I learned of a Kenneth Branagh-directed movie co-starring Emma Thompson that I’d never heard of and let me tell you, it felt great.

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Decking the halls, and a trip home on the 501

Yesterday was the first official day of my Christmas vacation. I was so excited that I bolted awake at 7:30 a.m.

I baked the cookies: the usual gingerbreads, shortbreads, and snickerdoodles, and, thanks to a recipe from a friend at work whose mother in law is Greek, some kourabiedes.

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Black Friday brain and red bedsheets

Beast: Great news. The blood stains came out of the sheets. They are washed and the bed is made.

Foodie: This is maybe the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me.

Beast: But the whole process  got me thinking…

Foodie: Go on.

Beast: Maybe it’s time you switched to pads.

Foodie: [Silence]

Beast: At least during the night. You aren’t a 16-year-old girl anymore!

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