Number of G&Ts on Friday night: Just 2. But they're growing on me. I find lately the drier the alcohol, the more I like it.
Number of comped dinners: 1. Working for a foodie magazine has its benefits. Boyfriend and I spent a lovely evening at Brio (the old Riboville) in the CBD on Saturday night, where we were stuffed full of good food and wine and looked after like royalty. A girl could get used to this...
Number of new experiences: 1. Had snails for the first time at the aforementioned fabulous dinner. Quite pleasant and not at all garden-y, although that may be because they were smothered in Roquefort cheese.
Number of kilometres Biscuit got from a quarter tank: 250. Colour me impressed by my little fuel-injected darling. I swear it's because I talk to her every day.
Number of tornadoes that hit NYC, where friends of mine are honeymooning: 2. Waiting anxiously to hear from them (the couple, not the tornadoes).
Number of TV sex gods who came back from the dead: 2. Eric Northman and Chuck Bass. I love it when they don't really kill off the good-looking ones.
Number of lessons learnt: 1. Trying to detach yourself from a potentially painful situation does not guarantee you won't still get hurt.
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