I slept for eleven hours last night; an uninterrupted 663 minutes of glorious and desperately needed slumber
There was no 3am cotton mouth/dark-stumbling for my bottle of Voss, 4am bizarre nightmare analysis/hazy tweet mention Blackberry readage, nor a 5:11 am alarm snooze hash
Of course it was a Friday night, I came home early evening from work with the intent of having some chicken, taking a nap, then forcing myself to go back out and linger atop some Pearl District barstool with a negroni to avoid a bout of Fomo.
Come 9:16 PM I decided I’d had enough late bedtimes for the week and decided to do a cucumber facial, change into some cashmere pyjamas, and tuck right in (of course after the facial had been washed off).
This morning, after making myself some pancakes and indulging in a longer-than-usual bubble bath, I read a fantastic article in the newest issue of Conde Nast Traveler. While it’s premise was lingerie shopping in Paris, it illuminated indulgence and how ridiculous it be that pleasure be synonymous with guilt and how indulging in seemingly pointless acts of pampering can drastically improve quality of life.
In my opinion, small pleasures need to make a cameo in my life every day, however I also believe that it can be overdone; it’s that whole economic concept of diminishing marginal utility. Spoon feeding yourself foie gras from the jar and wearing your Loubis to Whole Foods gets old fast and establishes a new minimum standard for satisfaction.
This week I have made one slight change in my routine; and that is to wear real pyjamas- ones that are soft, preferably cashmere or silk and also match and are visually appealing enough that I would not be embarrassed to be seen in public should I have to evacuate my house in the middle of the night. At first, it seemed a little strange and effort-full to actually bother changing just to go to sleep– but in all honesty, it has enhanced the quality of my sleep, dreams, and transition into the morning.
Of course, no post about pleasure on this blog would be complete without some dishing and sipping. I am a firm believer that the weekends are not the only times in which one can be a leisure loving socialite. In fact, if there were breeds of socialites, I will unashamedly say that if anything I am a weekday one
It had been nearly two weeks since my last dishing sesh with Anne; so on Monday night we decided to dress in Kate Spade and pearls and meet at Metrovino for Happy Hour
Metrovino like the latter half of it’s name is known for it’s wine flights–and I know that looks like a lot of wine, but it’s really not (the equivalent of one glass per flight).
This salad is a mere $5 at Happy Hour and is absolutely exquisite. A melange of all my favourite textures and flavours in a serving (or two) towards meeting my daily vegetable quota: Arugula, roasted beets, avocado, tangerine, truffled pistachios, and feta. Any good salad in my mind has to have some sort of a nut (preferably hazelnuts or pistachios) et fromage appearance
For the (sort of) main course, Anne and I decided to split the famous Metrovino burger- apparently one of the best ones in Portland which I have surprisingly not yet sampled. Since this was an impromptu post-work event, I was unprepared and only had my grainy little Blackberry to photograph with which is why the quality of the photo is an extreme injustice to the succulence of this sandwich
The bun had a slightly briochey texture, but perfect for holding the juices of the house-ground beef. Messy, but not as much of a splatter fest as the Gruner or Le Pigeon. Then of course there is the fontina cheese and fancy sauce to elevate the satiating factor of this gentrified comfort on a plate. Delightful.
Besides the food, the pleasure was in the company as well. Anne’s presence has a profound effect on reducing my stress levels (except for that one time she had me come to hot power yoga); we laughed and dished and hypothesised…then went to frolic at Pearl Whole Foods so that I could stock up on enough kefir and parsley to get me through the rest of the week.
Do you sleep in real pyjamas?
What small pleasures get you through the work/school week?