Ah, Faaaaaamily

 

‘Tis the season, friends.

 

'Tis the season for balls (brainlesstales.com)

Well, yes.  But also…

 

I’m writing to you from my favorite spot in the whole house—three and a half feet from a tree that looks like it stepped out of a Macy’s window to spend the season with us—wearing jingle bell earrings and a jingle bell bracelet and a jingle bell necklace,* because if you don’t jingle all the way you’re not Christmassing hard enough and you don’t get eggnog shakes with cookie dough vodka in. 

 

cookie dough vodka

Yas plz.

 

Them’s the rules.

 

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Notes From a Food Coma

 

We all have our holiday traditions—eyerolling, drinking, overeating, and vowing next year will be different somehow are popular ones—but looking back, I seem to have acquired a new Thanksgiving tradition: blogging the recap.

 

Hey, life of a blogger = no secrets, right?  Well, I’m not going to give you the blow-by-blow, but there were some… moments.

 

cornucopia centerpiece

I keep thinking I’ll do one of these, but then I remember my Thanksgiving rule: the table is for FOOD.

 

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“That New Italian Place” (Story Time!)

 

First off, I need to make sure y’all understand that I am not an Italian food snob.  I mean, I’ve had amazing authentic Italian, at little places I can’t name because there’s exactly one location and I remember it when I’m in the neighborhood (you know how it goes, right?  Please tell me I’m not the only one who navigates/feeds herself like this) so I do know what good is.  It’s fucking amazing and leaves you food drunk and unable to properly contemplate your next meal, even many hours later, because nothing will ever be quite that tasty.

 

But I’m also a sucker for Olive Garden. 

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