This morning, on the day of my birth, my man woke me up with lighted cupcakes and what the frogs call a cafe au lait.
The cupcakes were especially apt - one choc-orange in honor of my favorite holiday and a white-on-white in honor of...the fact that I am the whitest person ever, I'm assuming?
So there on my "happy camper" plate lies the central dichotomy of my life - the blond, scandinavian chick who likes dark stuff. Kind of perfect. Plus, my birthday card had bats on it.
And tonight? A quiet evening that follows a weekend of high activity - artichokes, J champagne, the season finale of True Blood (how fitting) and the original version of Wicker Man. Life is good.
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