Tag Archives: Mollytopia

Have you ever been to a divorce party?

My buddy Molly of Mollytopia posted a recap of her friend’s wild divorce party. Things got a little crazy. You have to read about the shenanigans.

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Five great things I ate (and drank) recently

1. Charcuterie at Il Buco Vineria. Probably the best I’ve ever had.

2. Gorgonzola cremificato at Murray’s Cheese. Molly and I arrived early for our class so we went two doors down to the cheese bar. Yep, we had more cheese plus charcuterie…before a cheese class.

3. Banana tiramisu at Saranello’s outside Chicago. The chef said it was inspired by his mother’s banana pudding. Italians might scream ‘sacrilege’ but it was so delicious that I can’t make myself care.

4. Fennel sausage pizza at Nellcôte. Diandra and I got ours sans mushrooms.

5. I can’t stop thinking about this wine I drank during the class at Murray’s Cheese. It was so unusual and wonderful that I’m tempted to buy a case!

How was your weekend?

It was a beautiful – and gluttonous – weekend in NYC. After a work trip that took up most of my week, I was thrilled to get home.

Molly visited. It was so fun to meet her! We ate our way through parts of Manhattan and Brooklyn.

On Friday, we went big, starting with drinks at the Bowery Hotel. Our two bartenders were most charming.

Bowery

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Twitter Spotlight: Molly Britt

I am intensely grateful to WordPress’s Freshly Pressed for introducing to @Mollytopia because she isn’t actually someone I followed on Twitter. That came later.

Molly’s post that grabbed me (well, the first of many) is about childhood. In her words, she was “raised by drug smugglers, hippies, and circus performers.”

Mollytopia

OneChicklette: Your favorite qualities in a love interest

@Mollytopia: makes me laugh out loud, will built a fort with me out of couch cushions, and takes my clothes off with his teeth. This position is currently filled.

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No dogs allowed

When I was a kid, I desperately wanted a dog. My mother’s mother Nana lived with us though. Well, technically we lived with her but that’s another story.

Dad loved dogs, still does, and supported my interest in having one, but Nana either hated dogs or was afraid of them. Mom told me the latter.

“One day when Nana no longer lives with us, Daddy and I will get you a puppy.”

She didn’t wink or elbow me in the ribs while saying it, but the message was clear: when Nana died, I’d get my dog. Even though I was only five or six at the time, wanting a puppy became inextricably linked with a guilty feeling: “you want Nana to DIE!” I tried hard not to think about puppies. Continue reading