I just finished my Christmas dinner of steak and red wine by the fireplace with my dad and D and thought I'd write a quick post to say Merry Christmas to you and yours (in a British accent, of course).
My holidays feel just a smidge out of whack since my mother and sister have flown south for the season and are currently enjoying summer in Buenos Aires (opposite hemisphere = opposite seasons). They'll be down there for about a month, living in an apartment rental and hanging out with the locals, then they're off to Peru in early January, wherein my dad will make like the birds and fly south to join then.
I was invited along (more than once) for this fete, but had to decline because of time constraints with my bloody job (apparently I'm all about sounding British tonight). I DO have all next week off -- thank God! -- but would have wanted to stay longer than a week if I was going to spend that much money on airfare. Plus being away from D during this time of the year would have sucked, and I KNOW Boss Man would never let me take time off in January what with a bunch of important news things occuring, so no Buenos Aires/Peru por me. Me no encantan. To satiate my travel bug I've been watching Vicky Cristina Barcelona religiously and pretending I'm summering in Spain with a handsome spaniard who wants to weekend with me in Oviedo.
In other news D bought me some swinging presents this year:
- A wood-handled melon baller from Sur la Table (only the one I've been talking about FOR-ever. I guess you know you're old when you get your kicks from overpriced kitchen utensils.)
- A copy of Sterling's Gold, as in Roger Sterling's Gold, the fictional memoir Roger wrote in Mad Men that's been actually published (hardback!) as a collection of Roger's witticisms from the show. I guess this officially makes me a hardcore fan (though me owning a Mad Men wall calendar for three years running would have probably already affirmed that).
- A pair of black Hunter rain boots!:
D bought me a pair of the original, tall, high-gloss version. Hunter boots were made popular by Arthur Wellesley the 1st Duke of Wellington (hence the name) and became uber fashionable among the British aristocracy in the early 19th century. Apparently they're the Queen's personal favorite in shoe wear.
|The Queen in her Hunter boots during the Gun Dog Trials (whatever those are), 1967.|
Whatever works for the Queen works for me. Maybe the Hunters are what's making me feel all-sorts British tonight.
I surprised D with the first two seasons of Breaking Bad, a pair of cufflinks and tiebar (no Ferragamo this year; Kenneth Cole had to suffice), and rotating Belgian waffle maker that he's wanted since we got married. He's already made me fluffy Belgian waffles twice and they were divine. Both times. Although with the holidays coming to close I feel I should start watching what I eat again (as in: probably not a good idea to down an entire tin of shortbread in one sitting). Better idea: Salad? (Notice my use of question mark, as taste buds are always partial to processed sugar over leafs).
I do know that I've felt rather blah lately -- a combination of feeling flabby and lazy. And pale -- did I mention pale? Because something about looking sickly white with no trace of my golden Cabo tan from August makes me feel a bit under the weather. Not that I'd EVER go to a tanning salon (no judging those that do, but something about frying under lightbulbs semi freaks me out). But with my tan gone and my muscle tone non-existent I've just felt blah. And I know it's because normally I walk a lot.
Up until a couple months ago D and I walked at least a couple miles every night, not including walking to and from the train station for work and what exercise we got walking for lunch. But since the weather's turned unseasonably cold for my area (and the rains have swept in), walking is the last thing I want to do when I get home. And my thighs -- Mona and Camille, yes they have names -- are deffo not thanking me. What I need to do is quit making excuses and bear the cold weather in my Hunters. Don't worry ladies, you'll firm up again soon enough!