My Cup Runneth Over


This last month has been quite the doozy and frankly, I’ve been bad at Internet as a result of it. It’s hard to keep up with the blog when there’s so much to do IRL, but let’s give it the whole college try, eh?

November was a big month for work: lots of projects, lots of learning. But it was also a fun month of events and press trips. A cruise out to sea—I billed it as the world’s fanciest U-turn—kept me away from the office, while Virginia’s Eastern Shore treated me to waterway adventures in and around Chesapeake Bay, whereupon I ate all the oysters and clams. All o’ dem.


I also drank unreasonable amounts of Beaujolais Nouveau; tasted bottle after bottle of my favorite, grower Champs; watched robots fuck up a Cosmo; spent an extended amount of time with my boo-thing; ate more charcuterie than is socially acceptable; drank Barolo; shaved real truffles; and generally lived my life like a big fat dynamo.


And for that, I am grateful. I live a weird life where I get to drink and eat, and write about it and photograph it and then do it again. My cup runneth over; I am aware that what I do is special. Envy-inducing. Kinda nuts. It’s something I think about often, if not everyday. “How the hell did I get here?!”

I don’t take the opportunities I’ve been handed lightly, and I love my life beyond measure, because for the most part, I’m doing what I can to live up to its crazy kinetic potential. Not to mention the crazy amount of love, talent and friendship I share with friends, family and colleagues.

I’m fucking lucky. I strive to be the last person to forget that. Cheers.



One response to “My Cup Runneth Over”

  1. Your oyster photo is so pretty it makes me want to not be allergic to oysters. And I want the LOVE photo to be my cell phone wallpaper.


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