There's just too much to choose from

Alright, it’s Tuesday, and here I am with all kinds of things to tell you. What would you like to hear first:

• that I finished proofing my galleys and will be receiving BOUND galleys in a few days, the very concept of which struck me five years ago as attainable a goal as becoming a time-traveling rock star;
• that I have learned a new life lesson—it is highly difficult to convey to your hairstylist the kind of cut you want after first establishing a wine buzz at another location;
• that today I went to the vaj doctor, who came complete with Skipper the Student Intern Pal;
• that the movie Juno MORE than makes up for the eye vomit I watched the week before; OR
• that I just found a new stash of unused blog fodder?

I bet you want to know more about number five! Okay, let’s do it.

1) I recently saw a house with a yard sign that read: “Jesus Saves!” A car parked in front of the same house had “Go Devils!” written in soap across the back window. It was one of the few moments in my life that I nearly wept for not having a camera on my person. True story from last summer.

2) The following is a post I started about a butternut squash risotto I made last fall. I was going to call it: “That’s Not Elbow Grease.” What follows was supposed to come after the recipe, but I never made it that far:

And then stir, stir, stir. Trust me, it’ll be worth it, even when your wrist bursts into flame and your hand goes numb. Especially when people admire your brawny forearm and say, “Wow, have you been … flogging? … something? … a lot lately?” No! It’s okay. Don’t run away! Don’t be scared. Just tell them you were stirring risotto!

And then knock their socks off with a sample. I’m not kidding, their eyes will roll back in their heads and they will temporarily lose the power to write in cursive. The secret is the truffle oil. Yes, it’s expensive. But the kids don’t need milk this month! Dairy is so overrated anyway.

But truffle oil? The nectar of the gods, my friends. Smoky, rich gods who wear thick gold chains and suck on Cuban cigars with the girth of Redwood trunks.

Truffle oil + marinated sun-dried tomatoes + butternut squash + risotto = your mouth doing a Rockettes line kick across the room to thank you. Your mouth might even propose to you with a blimp banner.

So, let me know if you want the recipe.

3) “Hi, how’s your dink?”

This was the subject line from some SPAM I recently received. Not surprisingly to those who know me, it made it onto the list.

4) Nostalgic items that make me happy: Those long, skinny microphones that looked like drumsticks or magic wands. Used on numerous 1970s-era variety shows

I have no idea where I was going with this one.

I'm at The Debs this Friday, with a REAL post about the day I sold my novel. Happy trails!