I will at some point, I swear, but right now I’m so very tired and have to write a Gothamist post about the Chocolate Show before heading to sleep.  Will you ever forgive me?

You want him to gasp because you look so fabulous.  You want to tell him all about your new boyfriend, your promotion at work, and the incredible vacation you just took.  You want to have a perfect hair day, gleaming white teeth, and be dressed in your most comfortable yet naturally sexy outfit that highlights your assets (a.k.a. cleavage).

You don’t want to be dressed in your somewhat frumpy work clothes, which don’t do much more than hang there and make you look sort of professional, yet boring.  You don’t want to have a nose that’s still slightly red and chapped from blowing it all weekend.  You don’t want to be fighting with the new bangs you got last week that still don’t want to sit properly on your forehead.  And you certainly don’t want to feel more bloated than you’ve felt in months from PMS and a four-day lapse at the gym due to aforementioned plague.  Sigh.

A special shout-out to all the marathoners, particularly to Teddi, who completed her first marathon after months of hard work and dedication.  Way to go, Teddi!  Also congrats to Rob (marathon #5) and Derek (marathon #7). 

Plague is subsiding, but I still sound pretty cold-y.  Can’t wait to shake this one — I’ve got a busy few weeks coming up.

It is amazing that earlier this week I was walking around without a coat and right now it’s about 40 degrees out.  No wonder I’ve come down with the plague.  I tried to hold out as long as I could, but had to leave work at about 3pm yesterday and crawl home and into my pajamas.  I ordered some spicy shrimp soup from Saigon Grill and settled in on the couch, dozing on and off.  I’m home again today, but have to get some work done — I am so grateful for remote access to my work network on days like this!  I’m also thrilled to be able to participate in a conference call in my pajamas, which I’ll be doing shortly.

I was talking to a friend tonight about a book he heard about of that basically teaches women how to "win" a "quality" guy.  And by "quality," the author means "rich."  He went on to describe some of the author’s key tips like not ordering apple martinis, but ordering scotch instead, or learning about wine not for the sake of gaining a new area of expertise, but more for the purpose of impressing his friends at a dinner party or the prep school reunion. 

This whole idea is puzzling to me.  Yes, it’s true that I’ve heard guys complain that so many women in the city only care about how much money a guy makes, but I really don’t think any of my female friends (or, to be fair, most of my female friends) are that type of woman.  And I think the "quality" guys described in the book are really high-paid guys who find their confidence solely in the fact that they are high-paid.  Who the hell wants to date that guy?  Ick!  May all the gold-digging women snatch them up and leave the rest of us with the good ones.

See — Hugh and I really aren’t that bitter.  Courtesy of Hugh at Gaping Void.

I have a problem.  Well, I’m sure I have plenty, as we all do, but the particular problem I’m addressing today is the fact that I suck at buying wedding presents.  Not that I don’t know what to get people.  Hell, with registries and whatnot, it’s really a no-brainer.  My problem is actually purchasing the present.  Yes, yes, I realize that etiquette dictates that you have a year, but let’s just say that I have missed that deadline more than once.  Many more times than once.  So many times, in fact, that I am firmly convinced that if I ever do actually get married, I will probably get no presents at all (I hope that doesn’t discourage any potential suitors).  The good news is that, with the exception of a KitchenAid mixer (which I don’t really have room for at the moment anyway), I pretty much have all the major kitchen stuff I need.  And for those of you I still owe presents — you may still get them one of these days, and it’ll be sort of a fun surprise/anniversary present.  I will note for the record that I did actually buy a present for the last wedding I went to, but I’ll admit that it’s because I joined forces with my family, who is much more on top of these things than I am.

What’s your dirty little secret?