Biggie Smalls and Potato lounge in  love together

 

Potato shows that he is pure ‘evil’ as he ferociously attacks the loungin’ Chef

Everyday I am able to hang out with the two greatest people I have ever known. Lately the fun factor has been supercharged. Catcher is growing both physically and mentally. The boy is like an elephant, he never forgets. His words make him sound like a ten year old. His ability to imagine inspires me. I find myself playing make believe and being transported to a time when I ran through the woods in search of fairies and wood nymphs. We have picnics now in our backyard. With real food and sometimes with pretend food. Either one, my heart and life is full. I can look into his eyes and know completely that I was destined to be his mother. Louisiana confirms this fact even more. With her appetizing smile and chunk legs I can’t seem to put her down. She is an amazing little chiquita and I cannot believe that she is this close to crawling. She is an active little monster who is in love with rice cakes. Not that you could blame her. She never stops smiling and her hair is the color of fire. She is lovely.

I must have done something right in my previous life.

My family kicks ass in every way. My kids are beautiful, and smart, insane, and hilarious. The chef makes me laugh and loves me even though I am a maniac. My dogs make me smile constantly, even when they are being mischievous.

I am a blessed woman.

Who would have thought that my innocent road trip out to NYC for your birthday in 2002 would change our lives forever.  I remember that night like it was yesterday.  Hell I remember everything about that trip.  I remember cursing your name as I sat in traffic on the West Side Highway.  I remember being amazed and scarred shitless as I pulled up to your apartment on Rivington.  I remember wishing I still smoked weed after seeing and holding and smelling the 5 lbs of it left in your fridge by the old tenent.  I remember getting ready and not know what to wear but being so happy I brought my kick ass Italian stockings that I bought for $100 in Milan.  I remember listening to The Velvet Underground over & over while smoking ridiculous amounts of Camel Lights in your tiny 400 sq. ft. apartment.  I remember walking in the East Village and being amazed at how cool everything & everyone was.  I remember drinking martini’s at Lemon while Dana was woking and then later heading to Beauty Bar in hopes (mine not yours) of seeing Matt Dillon.  I remember flirting with an Irishman and you getting mad even though we were ‘just friends’.  I remember being so excited that bars were open until 4 am and then being so utterly exhausted by then I didn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t drink by 4am.  I remember walking EVERYWHERE and loving it.  I remember watching you and Dana jaywalk while I patiently waited for the littleman to change.  I remember seeing the handmade sign on Second Ave proclaiming ‘I Have Cum!’ and giggling like a 12 year old schoolgirl.

I remember kissing you.  I remember laying in bed with you and thinking ‘What the hell am I doing in Manhattan with Sawyer?’.  But what I most remember is loving you in every aspect of the word.  I remember knowing then and still knowing now that you were meant to be with me.  We were meant to be together.  No matter what.  No matter how hard it would be (it was) and how stressful (it is) we would end up as one.

I love you chef. I am so proud to call you my husband.  Happy fucking birthday!

Keep that in mind as the half naked Patron girls are handing out free tequila at your restaurant.

PS  Happy 5th Birthday Vito, I love you too!!!!!   Thanks for licking my feet every single night of my life.  They are really soft now.

“Vito enjoys a bit a roughage every now and then.”

Our friend Mike Symon just announced that he is taking over the Food Network show Dinner Impossible.  And guess what?  My chef is gonna be on a few episodes.  They start filming over the next two months and his schedule is now becoming really insane.  I am so excited and I know he is totally stoked.  Yay!  Go Cleveland Chefs!!

Mike better watch out for me because while he is away filming I am gonna go hang out with his wife, drink lots of wine, and kidnap his new  bulldog Ozzy:

You can imagine my amazement when I stumbled upon this heartbreaking photo of Potato’s twin while perusing books at Border’s this morning. The book, Not Left Behind is a photographic journey of many dogs that were saved during Katrina by the Best Friends Animal Society.

Needless to say I bought the book. How could I not? Potato’s long lost twin was on the cover. When I got home I immediately read the book, shed a few tears, and went online to learn more about the Best Friends Animal Society. It turns out that they have quite a few pitbulls taken from that bastard Michael Vick. They have rehabilitated them and are now up for adoption.

Spending time on Best Friends site reminded me again how fucked up people can be towards man’s best friend. It also made so glad that there is a nationally recognized pitbull advocate that is getting press. The more informed people are on the fact that pitbulls are not man eating killers the less ignorance will be spread.

Potato chillaxin’

The chef, the pit, & biggie smalls sleep peacefully

Louisiana & Potato bond