So, Cassie has moved to New York to do what the New Yorkers do-- eat excellent cheese, and possibly get famous-- so that means my friend count is down by nearly 40%. These pictures are from our recent farewell. We're at our favorite "french" bakery, a place that might as well be called Bourgeoisie's but is in fact called Kelly's. It is there that Cassie and I used to chat for hours amidst the aging hippies, pregnant yuppies, and delicious pastries. Sadly, this is no more. I'm trying to just pour my heart (and more importantly, some sauces and jams) into my canning hobby, but I can't help but feel a little blue. I guess I can start courting my friendship with Rach with new ferocity. She took this picture of me as we were enjoying luncheon at the Indian Food Buffet. I bet you are thinking that the Indian Buffet is not conducive to romance. I bet you think that a visit to the Indian buffet is only good for inducing hours of painful gas. Gentle Reader, you are partially correct, but despite my intestinal rumblings, I can still muster a twinkle in my eye! And once the twinkle subsides, pictured here is the exact moment of painful gas onset.