Saturday night was silly.
After a fun but tiring day in Orange and after a week full of social obligations, all I wanted to do on Saturday night was to stay in and watch movies. So, once back in LA, I immediately changed into sweatpants and a ridiculously over-sized t-shirt and curled up into my favorite armchair with movie #1 of the night, Dare.
Once that movie was over, I made myself a naan pizza. I forgot to take a picture of it, but it pretty much looked like this one.
Around that point, the roomie started craving red wine. And then, since he’d brought it up, I did, too. The problem? We didn’t have any.
So, genius that I am, I suggested that he and I walk to the nearby liquor store, which was “just around the corner.” And, since it was “just around the corner,” I said it really wouldn’t matter if we made the trip in our ridiculous-looking pajamas.
I’m not exaggerating about how stupid we looked. Don’t believe me? Here’s the proof.
Sweats and sneaks. Try really hard not to be jealous of my sophistication.
So, we made it down to the liquor store (after a walk that was a lot further than I had imagined it would be!) and bought ourselves a bottle of Cabernet Sauvingon, feeling totally classy but enjoying the absurdity of the situation.
And then we started to walk back up the hill to our apartment.
Unfortunately, that’s when I remembered that I had inflamed my achilles tendon. Though I considered just walking through the pain, I realized how upset I’d be with myself if I worsened the situation and asked Mark if he’d mind heading back to get the car and picking me up.
For the next ten or so minutes, I felt pretty conspicuous. No, seriously. Between my outfit, the bagged bottle of alcohol I had with me, and the fact that I was hanging out on some random apartment stoop in the dark, it was awkward.
So, naturally, I took self-portraits so that I could share this awkward situation with you. Because that’s normal.
Anyway, after Mark kindly picked me up, we spent the rest of the evening consuming our prized wine and watching The Proposal. I know, I know, I’ve seen it a thousand times. I can’t help it.
I have a problem. I own it.
Anyway, I woke up starving on Sunday morning. There’s been a lot of toast and peanut butter happening in my apartment lately. That toast and peanut butter has not been mine. However, I’ve been smelling it pretty often, so I finally caved into the inevitable craving yesterday and made some for myself for breakfast.
Inspired by Julie, I decided to make some pumpkin peanut butter.
While my multigrain bread was toasting, I mixed a heaping tablespoon of natural peanut butter with a heaping tablespoon of canned pumpkin and a couple of dashes of pumpkin pie spice.
I spread that mixture atop the two slices of toast and topped it with TJ’s cranberry almond butter.
It was the perfect breakfast with which to begin a rainy Sunday.
Soon after, it was time for me to head out for coffee with my lovely actress friend, Becky.
She’s been a loyal reader since the early beginnings of KWH, so my already significant fondness for her has been majorly amplified by her flattering readership! I’d also like to send a little shout-out to her sister, who I’m told also reads the blog. Hi! 🙂
I got my usual, of course…
As with The Proposal, I just can’t help it.
After my coffee date, I walked around downtown Glendale for a bit, mostly to window shop and spend a little time with myself. Before I knew it, however, I was hit with immense hunger and a chill I couldn’t shake. I hopped in the car and headed home to make some serious comfort food, which was becoming more and more necessary with every passing moment.
As soon as I was home, I made some brown rice pasta and peas and then mixed in some Earth Balance, an egg, grated parmesan & romano, sea salt and ground pepper.
I pretty much wolfed it down.
Once that digested, I started baking…
But that’s for another post. 😉