Thinking of A. and B. in Israel; 2009 tumbles toward me.

Yesterday morning we saw Milk in a beautifully empty theater, and I thought it was good, but paled in comparison to the documentary we saw about Harvey in February. We followed up with an absolutely wonderful lunch at Lao Beijing in Chinatown. It included a steamer full of tiny xiao long bao that exploded in our mouths. I can still taste them.

I talked to Jenn for over an hour last night, for the first time in weeks, and boy, do I love that girl.

This afternoon, after an incredibly relaxed couple of coffees at Z&H, we had a tremendous lunch for whose constituent parts we owe a debt to Tina and Ross’s parents. (Tina, that fig and balsamic vinegar confit? Genius. Parents, that salami was gorgeously fatty.)

Life is pretty grand.

P.S. I thought I’d tell you that I bought these boots last October, and I LOVED them. Warm, dry, and sturdy as a spaceship. Then a week or so ago they sprung a small leak in the left shoe and the zipper on the right shoe jammed so tight I’ve been pulling it on and off ever since. I didn’t have a receipt, but I emailed Land’s End on Wednesday, explaining my tale of woe, and today I got a note letting me know they’d looked up my order and are putting a new pair in the mail to me on Monday. I wish the shoes hadn’t crapped out on me, but I couldn’t have asked for a better customer service experience.

When I am not watching Mad Men or making the world’s most awesome pizza, I have sleeping cats to disturb (unlike sleeping dogs, they can be manhandled with ease). More soon though.

Can anyone explain to me why a person would take the trouble to ask a clarifying question about how to proceed on a piece of work they are supposed to be doing, thank you very kindly for the detailed answer you provide, and then COMPLETELY IGNORE WHAT YOU SAID when completing the work?

Anyone?

Sometimes I really, really, REALLY hate editing.

Step 1: After they have raced around like madmen all morning, I notice that the kittens are finally sleeping peacefully on the futon. I sit down at my desk to work.

Step 2: A kitten smells me working and wakes up. It jumps up on my desk, purring like a motor.

Step 3: I laugh as the kitten is mesmerized by the bright movement on the screen, and pet it as it steps all over my keyboard wanting scritches.

Step 4: I resign myself to not working and move the kitten to the nearest comfy orange chair to give it all my attention.

Step 5: The kitten scrambles off my lap and runs away to poop.

Step 6: I sit back down at my desk to work, since the kitten clearly does not care about me anymore.

Step 7: The kitten jumps back up onto my desk.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Percy and Layla arrived today and will stay with us (well, just me, for now) for about two and a half weeks, making this the most kitten-friendly holiday season ever. They have now been here for five hours—possibly the nicest five hours of my life.

When we sat for them over Thanksgiving, they were kind of off-the-walls nutty, running and jumping and never sitting still. Now I think that was just because every time we saw them they’d been alone for many hours. After they finished exploring the apartment this morning, they both turned into really mellow love-seeking cats. Can I just say that there is nothing nicer than having a cat lay its forepaws over your arm? Or maybe there is: two cats in a bundle with you on the couch.

Every time I go to the bathroom, Percy is there when I come out, checking to see if I’ve forgotten to leave the lid down this time so he can drink from it. Ross? Ross who?

Greg linked to this video today on Utata and I am stealing it for you to see, because it’s very cool.