It's Academy Awards night and I haven't seen a single one of the films that are nominated this year. No really, not a single one--and I'm not talking about the big five, I mean every category. For shame. Oh well, I've been, shall we say, busy. Perhaps I will spend the next couple of weeks catching up, and then stay caught up in the coming year.
I have, however, been reading like a mofo this year, [Side note: What in the hell is up with Travolta's hair? I'm watching the red carpet pre-show and he looks like the old Moss Man action figure from He-Man.] but I've been completely non-committal--you know, reading several books, sometimes half a dozen or more, at a time. One of the books that I picked up a loooong while ago, and then immediately put down, was Eat, Pray, Love. I thought, at first, 'Aw Jesus, a book by a divorcee about a divorce and her journey back from it...I don't need to read that shite right now.' A wee bit reactive and negative, perhaps, but it was probably a good idea not to dive in while the wound was still bleeding. I'm up to my neck in it now, though--the book, that is--and I'm loving it. I highly recommend it if you are interested in any of the following: good food, Italy, religion, yoga, India, love, divorce, good food, men...did I mention good food?
One particular passage inspired my early evening meal today, which I lovingly gathered at the store and then arranged so prettily on the plate that I just had to take a picture--as I'm often wont to do these days. Feast your eyes, my lovelies.
No, I didn't eat everything. I tried, but there was no way. (Plus, it just looked so nice all piled up like that.) At least half the sliced meats went to my doggies, and though I made it through the goat cheese, I left the mozarella mostly alone. The bread and strawberries and most of the asparagus is in my belly, along with some Topo Chico and dark chocolate (not pictured).
The earlier part of the day was spent running a few errands in the loveliest of Austin spring weather--78 degrees or something like that--and an impromptu meet-up with friends at Birds on Lamar for a trim. (My bangs are no longer impairing my vision like a shaggy dog.) And now I'm vegging on the sofa, watching Jon Stewart, and being thankful that such a simple day can leave me happy and sated.