Birthday, Blizzard, Boston

I was struggling to think what had happened since coming back to New York and then I remembered; it was my birthday. Happy birthday, Billychica!

It was strange not being able to corral a load of folk to have lunch with me as I would have done back home in the office. I think I had some dodgy leftovers or something. Anyway, the Boy and I had a lovely evening downing $1 oysters and bubbles, before going to a Japanese speakeasy restaurant. The decor was impressive, very laidback with an indoor garden, and there couldn't have been more than 25 in the whole place at any one time. The food was average, but the kobe beef dishes, including the sliders and sashimi was delicious. I want more.

Then it was time for my present. As I was opening up the enormous parcel, I thought I saw the leg of what looked like a camping table. 'Is it a table?' I asked. Because obviously, that what we need in our NY apartment.

In fact, it was the most beautiful photo of the Wall Street Bull in the blizzard, which we had seen in the Holiday Market. It's so arresting. From afar, it's like you're sitting in a coffee shop, watching it prepare to come at you. Up close, you're in the midst of the snowstorm, trying to see everything in the picture, but having trouble taking it all in. It's beautiful. Thank you, kid.

In other news, we are in the midst of a snow blizzard. Our upteemth in a handful of days. I was cursing the Boy, as I tried to wade through the rivers of slush. There are parts where it's so deep that you have to walk down the street before you can cross onto the pavement. Now this is bad weather, people.

I am sitting on a train, three hours into a five-hour journey on my way to a meeting in Boston on Valentine's Day. Thank goodness I don't have a romantic bone in my body. Having said that, I may not make it to Valentine's Day, as I might die of boredom before the train reaches its final destination. At least the Boy wouldn't need to wash my mountain of laundry that I've strewn across the living room floor.