Fat pants. It’s beginning to look a lot like fat pants. I’m kidding (not really), but we have officially entered the season of treats. Not only have I started baking my annual holiday loaves (this year’s flavor is Gingerbread), which naturally means I have to taste each batch, but I’m also receiving extra treats from others (this weekend I’ve been gifted a pack of Levain Bakery cookies…one of my NYC favorites). And then there’s the holiday events. Between holiday brunches and dinners and luncheons and parties and cookie exchanges, the calendar is as full as my belly will likely be ALL MONTH LONG.

Taylor Swift certainly got those lyrics right. And I was reminded of this while back in New York City last week on vacation. It's a city I pine for often, even in the very act of praising heaven over how much less stressful my life has been since I moved away. Less epic as well, perhaps, but that's the tradeoff, people.

I'm ashamed of how seldom I actually talk about writing on this blog. Further, I am ashamed about how little writing I've done since moving to NY period.

Whenever I see people post pictures of themselves looking totally cute, I roll my eyes. It’s so tacky. Anyone who wants people to see them looking totally cute seems like they have something to prove. Or an ulterior self-serving motive.