I’m feeling bad because my sweetie is the only one not to get a shout out on his birthday. But yesterday, Adam finally hit thirty (as my father said, “This is distressing. Now there are no more children in this family in their twenties).
I want to make note of just one thing from yesterday: We had breakfast at Renee’s Cafe in Somerville, where I got this look–an actual sneer of horror and disdain–when I asked for low-fat milk for my coffee instead of cream (regular milk only; no low-fat milk) and if I could get low-fat sour cream on my omelette (regular sour cream only; no low-fat sour cream). I’ve never seen a look like that–that low-fat face. As Adam pointed out, you would never have gotten a look like that in Seattle. They would have had full-fat, low-fat, non-fat, tofu, you name it. Boston isn’t quite as, um, open-minded, I’m finding. But despite that breakfast was good and we ran into Adam’s brother, which made me feel like I actually live here.
