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I’d talk about how abhorrent The Lovely Bones is, but I prefer to discuss pleasant things. Like the fact that we’ve all kicked off a three-day weekend. Like the fact that I came home to a cheeky tomboy with a gorgeous bouquet of blush roses just for me, and lasagna baking in the oven, and an array of tiny Haagen-Dazs cups of ice cream in the freezer, bottles of bubbly chilling in the fridge and fat, happy cinnamon rolls waiting to be baked in the morning for breakfast. Very pleasant things.

I’m going to curl up with my newest collection of locally penned shorts (Instant City, Issue No. 6, snagged at Gypsy Honeymoon in the Mission) in bed, with a brand new sparkling cocktail that is so, so good: splash of spiced pear vodka (ours is crafted by Hangar One, of course), splash of raspberry pink lemonade, topped with your sparkling beverage of choice. Not-too-sweet, perfectly crisp and refreshing!

CONFESSION: Today was a day for the bank. I attended a private tasting of Dalmore’s 12, 15, Gran Reserva and King Alexander III single malt scotch whiskys, plus a very special bonus tasting, at the methodically handsome Laszlo in the Mission. The dear Scottish man who led the tasting said that I reminded him of a lovely, elegant Lowlands single malt scotch whisky, when he wasn’t spitting onto the floor at any mention of the French. (You can eventually read more about all that here, at my “other” blog. I don’t want to spoil it.) They were kind enough to let me pop upstairs before and after the tasting to take some super awesome FFAF photos, hurrah. Just a moment ago the UPS guy arrived with a very important package, and I was so excited that M said I made a big old ruckus of “kitten noises,” whatever those are. It contained a new dress (not-so-LBD) and super badass new shoes. I can’t wait to show y’all! M is well enough to drink a bottle of cava with me (finally!) and lasagna is baking in the oven with some fluffy garlic bread in hot pursuit. DREAMY.

SCENT: Tom Ford’s Black Orchid. I must confess something. I broke up with Tom awhile ago, but after reading about his directorial debut starring Colin Firth (and Julianne Moore) in A Single Man, I’ve realized something very, very important: My love for Colin is greater than my hate for Tom. Does that make sense? Of course it does. (He’s Mark-bloody-Darcy, after all.) I digress. Black Orchid is a hot, heady, stunning mess. The jury is out on whether or not that’s a good or bad thing. The opening is almost like scorched black licorice drizzled over jasmine and sundry florals, like in Absinthe or Drambuie. It does kind of smolder, all bared teeth, glossed lips and super dangerous bedroom eyes. This smells like the kind of woman you should stay away from – you know better, of course – but you can’t help yourself. I’m going to have to come back to this, because it’s too complex!

Here are some notes, FYI: Black Truffle, Ylang, Bergamot, Black Currant. Then the black orchid, dark florals, rich fruit, Lotus Wood. At last, there’s Patchouli, Incense, Vetiver and Vanilla Tears, Balsam and Sandalwood.

Watch this and tell me you don’t find it completely gorgeous. Seriously.

And since it was one of the most beautiful stills: