The best thing about being single and on a hot date is, after a delicious dinner you can go home with your sexy partner and TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF AND GET IT ON.
The best thing about being MARRIED and on a hot date is, after a delicous dinner you can go home with your sexy partner and take your clothes off and get it on? AND THEN YOU CAN CURL UP ON THE COUCH AND DRINK TEA AND EAT BLACKBERRIES AND SCREAM AND LAUGH AT SHAUN OF THE DEAD.
Wait, you want more?


Sometimes I hold back from posting about gloriously perfect days because I get a lot of behind-the-hand twitter about blah blah my wonderful life, or perhaps you’ll think I’m bragging or showing off. Know that I’m not – know that I post here only because I know not how else to celebrate it.
Yesterday I was off work, and I’m sure that all of you in New York know it was the absolute tops day to play hooky. All over the city, people walked arm in arm and laughing, heads turned up like flowers to drink in the sunshine.
We came above ground at Union Square and wandered the market. We tried all the jams at Beth’s Farm Kitchen stand, finally settling on Apple Butter. Stuart couldn’t resist when he saw my eyes light up at the hand-dyed pistachio green lambswool and it’s already five inches on its way to becoming my spring skinny scarf.
We bought two enormous Crispin apples and waited for the west-bound M14A, heading over to Chelsea Piers to see the Ashes and Snow exhibit at Pier 54. After an hour of whales and swimming elephants (“Swimming elephants might just be my new thing.” -Stuart) and cold feet, we wandered south into the village and just happened to “find” ourselves at Myers of Keswick. The words “anniversary!” and “what diet?” propelled us into the shop and five minutes later, Stuart’s eyes almost watering with the nostalgia of England, we emerged with warm Cumberland sausage rolls in hand, and damnit if I haven’t already lost five pounds and am totally committed to this healthy process BUT THOSE WERE THE BEST GODDAMNED SAUSAGE ROLLS I’VE EVER HAD.
Ahem. Looking for a quiet warm drink, we couldn’t help slipping into The Chocolate Bar and you know what I said about the sausage rolls? Well take that and double it when it comes to WHITE CHOCOLATE HOT COCOA.
Getting a little cold and tired, we wandered up to the 14th street L and managed to catch rush hour traffic uptown on the N at Union Square. I didn’t mind standing the whole way home surrounded by tired reading commuters – I’d been in the sunshine all day. They earned their seats.
At home we got dressed, bought bus tickets home to the R.I. next weekend, and headed out for our anniversary dinner at French Roast. Let me make this absolutely clear: WHAT DIET? We, funnily enough, got exactly the same table in the secluded back alcove, and ordered the same delicious entrees as last year. We finished off by sharing the warm chocolate cake, Stuart with a pernod and I with a tea. We talked about love, and family, and Brasil, and how every March 18th, we wanted to eat here.
On the walk home, Stuart bought me a dozen daffodils to welcome spring, and a small box of fresh juicy blackberries.
And then? This is the best part, ready? We got home and … shhhh…. WATCHED SHAUN OF THE DEAD AND DRANK TEA AND ATE BLACKBERRIES.
If that doesn’t win the best day of the year award, I don’t honestly know what does.