Our new little roommate...

This is Boris, a russian tortoise that we've been taking care of this week for some friends who are on vacation. Boris is slowly growing on me, and quickly growing on Sumanth, who woke up at 6:15 today to have Boris playtime. (I was wondering why our wood floors were so sandy until Sumanth said, 'I think it's a good idea to let Boris excercise in the morning; he is so much more relaxed today.') His snacks have attracted a brood of fruit flies which are taking some time to get used to (as in I've spent much time researching fruit fly traps and cleaning everything we own with hot water and bleach), but all in all, his addition to the apartment has been pretty seamless.

All week, I've been seeing signs for a big moving sale right down our street. I don't usually pay attention to this kind of thing, but for some reason, I had a good feeling about this one. The address was so close to us that I pictured a perfect Saturday morning where, after pulling a coffee cake out of the oven, I would skip down the street and come back with a new nightstand and antique lamp and maybe a basket to keep my socks in, all for about $9 or so...Well, the coffee cake part came true, but when I got to the moving sale, I realized that it wasn't outside, but in this guy's apartment, on the third floor of a building, and I'd have to call him to get let in. I debated calling for a few minutes, but thought that the chances of me skipping away with a perfect nightstand in hand might not be worth the strangeness of browsing through someone's apartment. Alas.

Early Start Saturday...Nutella Truffles

I've been up for quite awhile due to the massive construction going on right below our windows. Not sure that construction is the right word--what is going on would more accurately be described as deconstruction because it involves those things that break cement and sound like helicopters and also those things that saw metal tubes in half and sound like your ears splitting into shards. Anyways, thanks to our early wake-up call, it is eleven am and the house is sparkling and smelling like begonias, cinnamon roll dough is rising and a draft of my big paper has been sent out. The only problem is I'm so tired that I would like to use the cinnamon dough for a pillow and go to sleep. Only the helicopters are still sounding. Sumanth does well with little sleep, though, and he is right now making truffles from homemade nutella...I was wondering what that one pound bag of hazelnuts was for...

He's been planning this chocolatey dessert for awhile. The other night we were on a bench waiting for a train that was taking a very long time to come because of a Red Sox game or something and he was talking about making a chocolate hazelnut sauce. Just as I was saying that nutella seems like the kind of thing that is just easier to buy, the woman on the bench beside us, said, "oooh, that sounds delicious." Well, we started chatting, first about chocolate, then about desserts, then boston, then the trains, etc. I enjoy chatting sometimes, so I held up my end of the conversation (Sumanth went back to invisioning his dessert) and answered her questions about where I liked to shop, what kinds of cheesecake I prefer, what kind of train passes I buy, etc. All the while I was thinking that it was a bit odd to be talking this long to someone while waiting for the T, but I figured we just had a lot in common and that Boston could feel like a small town after all. I imagined her thinking that I was quite good at small talk in the rare way that few people are. Sumanth said when he felt the conversation go astray was when she asked, out of the blue, "Do you ever make wraps?" At the time, I thought it was a fine question, and went along to tell her all the kinds of wraps I've made and even recommended a brand of wrap she might try. (Cedar's) Anyways, finally, the train came, and I imagined us all sitting in a row together, chatting it up about lunch meats and urban life, but lo and behold, she found another partner while on the way into the train. I heard her start in on all the same questions--even about cheesecake and wraps! She even offered her new friend some of her Trader Joe's chocolate mint balls that she had just bought. Whoa. Next time I'm going to be more discriminating with who I'll give my wrap advice to.

prolonged celebration is the best kind...

The nice thing about having our anniversary fall on a weekday was that we were able to really stretch it out...
On Sunday, I got this painting:


On Monday, I got these flowers:



On Tuesday, we had sangria and fish tacos at Zocalo:


And on Saturday, we stayed here:


...It was hard to come back from the turndown service this glorious hotel offered to our apartment where I had left a bag of really old potatoes to rot in the sun...but at least I had my sweet new painting to look at.

In other celebratory news, my boss turned 85 this week. The blueberry-topped lemon tarts are made by Sumanth.

Getting back to writing papers with the help of a bathtub full of caffeine...

If Sumanth had been with me when I took these pictures using the camera on my lap-top he would probably have been worried about the possibility of coffee leaking onto the keyboard. This is one of the reasons that I think we're a good match--while I was taking the bottom picture, and leaning the mug in order to get the best shot--I heard his voice in my head which was what stopped me from getting an even better shot by leaning my mug even further towards the camera risking the life of my sweet little macbook for pics of my sweet little latte!

While I was trying to get back into the writing papers mode, I couldn't help but overhear two people at the nearby table who were interviewing eachother to be roommates. The one girl said, "Well, when Lewis (whom I later found out is a cat) gets angry, he tends to go a little wild with his peeing. Yesterday he peed in my laundry basket. Lewis always finds the laundry when he's angry!" The other poor soul said, "Oh, I don't mind that kind of thing," leaving me to wonder what king of thing she does mind if not cat pee in laundry, and to be so so grateful not to be on a roommate search.