A selfish Saturday

It DID start with a drop off at the food pantry, so I'm not an unredeemably self-centered person, but the rest of the day was all about me, me, me -- and it felt good.

I had breakfast at my favorite coffee shop and continued with my current book -- a "guilty pleasure" true crime tome with little or no redeeming value. Then a massage to work out the icky ooky knots in between my shoulder blades, and a pedicure because ... well ... I wanted one. Then I went to see The Reader. (A perplexing, disturbing movie -- Why did she take her young lover? What was it in her past to screw up her values so much? -- but Winslet was terrific.)

I intend to continue the trend by watching back-to-back episodes of Law and Order while sitting on the sofa, surrounded by cats.

Days like this do wonders for recharging my internal battery and salving my soul.

I love the Ciroc commercials

Like there's any way that hearing Sinatra isn't going to capture my attention. Then I look up and see these commercials are shot in black and white, which makes the entire scene look so elegant. There's Diddy, looking so casual in his black tie, like this is just another day in the life.

I drink vodka but I don't buy it. Vodka is like a Border's Gift Card, the gift all my friends know I can always use. (Right now there's Svedka and Stoli in the cabinet.) But if I were to invest in a bottle tomorrow, it would be Ciroc, just to support this campaign.