Dec 2011 26

by Jeckyl Suicide

This is an original recipe that I made for a Red Velvet sponge cake that’s perfect for the holidays. I hope you like it!




  • 720ml castor sugar
  • 120ml vegetable oil
  • 120ml sour cream
  • 20ml vinegar
  • 20ml vanilla essence
  • 120ml red food coloring
  • 720ml flour
  • 240ml cocoa powder
  • 20ml baking powder
  • 20ml salt
  • 3 eggs

Icing / Filling:

  • 250g thick cream cheese
  • 160g butter
  • 4x250ml sifted icing sugar
  • 5ml vanilla extract


  • 2 x egg whites
  • 3 x fresh red roses
  • 3 x toothpicks
  • Castor sugar to dust
  • Green food coloring
  • 2 x rolls of ready to use soft icing


1. Start by washing your hands thoroughly.

2. Preheat the oven to 180 C / 350 F.

3. Place the 2 egg whites into a cup and whip lightly with a fork. Wash the roses thoroughly. Using a brush, paint the roses with the egg white. Make sure every petal is covered. Next, dust the roses with castor sugar. The result should be an iced looking rose. Place onto a baking tray and allow to dry for a minimum of 1 hour.

4. Sift all your dry ingredients into a bowl (flour, cocoa, baking powder, salt, castor sugar).

5. In a separate bowl, cream together all your wet ingredients (sour cream, red food coloring, eggs, vinegar, vanilla essence, oil). Once fully combined, pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients, stirring the whole time to avoid having lumps. In the end, your dough should be a deep rich red in color.

6. Grease a round cake tin and fill with around a quarter of the dough then place into the oven. This should take around 15-20 minutes to bake. When the top begins to brown a little, take it out and place onto a rack for cooling.

7. Once cooled, take out the cake tin, wash it, grease again, then place another quarter of the dough into the oven. Repeat this process until you have 4 cakes.

8. In another bowl, cream together all the icing/filling ingredients. The result should be a slightly yellow, very thick icing. Refrigerate.

9. Once the cakes have all cooled, separate them into pairs and stick one on top of the other using the icing/filling. Brush both stacks lightly with egg whites.

10. Using something round (e.g a small plate) cut one stack of cakes so that they’re slightly smaller than the other. Roll out the soft icing and cover both cakes. Be sure there are no bubbles. You can even use your hand to smoothen the surface. Do not discard leftover soft icing. Place the smaller stack on top of the bigger stack for a pyramid effect.

11. Now, color the leftover soft icing with the green food coloring and measure out the circumference of each cake. Cut a medium sized strip of green and, using egg white, stick it to the base of the cake.

12. Once this is done, stick a toothpick into each rose and arrange on the top of the cake then dust the entire cake with more egg white.

13. Refrigerate the cake overnight, and serve at room temperature.


Dec 2011 22

by Laurelin

Winter is coming. Maybe I have been way too involved in reading the Game of Thrones series, but that phrase has been running the show these past few months. Winter is coming, cold weather, boyfriend season. It’s time to stockpile your nuts in anticipation of frozen ground, time to find some people to hibernate with, someone to snuggle with to save money on that heat bill. Whatever the reason, winter IS coming… and so far I think my stockroom is looking alright.

My best friend looked at me the other day and cautiously asked if she could tell me something. I said of course, and she slowly said, “I don’t think you’re over your ex-boyfriend.”

I laughed. “What was your first clue?” I said.

“Thank God,” she replied. “Well, you never came out and said it, so I didn’t want to bring it up.”

She’s right, although I feel like I always bring it up. For some reason lately his name has never been far from my mind, and even now, months later, I feel almost worse off than when it had just happened. It doesn’t make sense to me; it’s not like we had this incredible connection that I felt left a hole in my life. I have managed to maintain a normal work relationship with him, I have managed to keep calm when I need to and to keep a smile on my face. But I guess I never really had that healing ‘out of sight out of mind’ time period, and for some reason my mind is starting to play tricks on me, making me think I made a mistake. Making me wish that things hadn’t ended.

It’s not like I haven’t been dating and trying to move on. I went on a coffee date with a stranger, I’ve marched into the bar across the street and given my number to a bartender that I’ve always thought was cute. He called, and we’ve been meeting for drinks here and there, but in the back of my mind I think I’m doing it just for the challenge. When I go out with any of these guys I truly am looking for a connection. I don’t want to randomly hook up. I don’t even mean to stockpile for winter, it’s not nice. But all of a sudden I’m feeling wishy-washy, and for whatever reason on the first date we’re holding hands, and I’m smiling sweetly but really, I’m screaming, “WHO DOES THAT? GET ME OUTTA HERE!”

The other night after getting drinks with one guy (and a ride home from another) I decided to return a phone call from a far off ex-boyfriend, he had been calling during the date and I kept pushing him to voicemail.

“How was your date?” he asked.

“It was alright,” I say. “I miss you,” and I mean it. This guy and I are strictly friends now, and he moved to Los Angeles recently. We talk on the phone often, but he is greatly missed.

“Get in a cab and come to the Park Plaza hotel,” he says. “I’m in Boston.” Two minutes later I am back in a cab and heading downtown at two a.m., certain the cab driver thinks I’m a hooker. I pull up outside the hotel and walk through the doors into the most beautiful lobby I have ever seen. Crystal chandeliers hang from cathedral ceilings and music plays softly, drifting around the biggest Christmas tree I have ever seen. I walk to the tree and look around until I hear him call my name, and we just hug for a few minutes. I feel like I’m in a movie, a good holiday heartwarming moment. He was someone who left a hole in my life when he left, and sometimes a hug from a friend at two a.m. in front of a fancy hotel Christmas tree is just what you need to feel whole again.

I spend the night, but we just talk and fall asleep. I laugh to myself going over the day in my head, a full shift at work, a burlesque ballet performance, drinks with one guy, a lift home from another, back in a cab to meet another at a hotel at three a.m. My best friend’s words echo in my head and I say them out loud to my friend and he nods knowingly. I’m not over my ex. I feel like I’m taking a huge step backwards. I shouldn’t have gone out with any of these guys, it’s not fair to them. I’m not really giving them a chance, I’m just trying to fill a space where something is missing. I sigh and snuggle up, the hotel room is cold, and winter is coming.


Dec 2011 09

by Yashar Ali

I don’t like to drink. I don’t like the taste of alcohol. And, outside of a handful of memorable drinking stories that my friends and I repeatedly share with each other, I don’t get drunk and I don’t like to get drunk. I also don’t like the loss of time that comes with a hangover and the loss of control that comes with drinking.

And it’s not because I have a drinking problem. I never have. I just don’t like drinking alcohol, it’s simply not part of my life.

Even though I am in my early thirties, I still face this incredible pressure – peer pressure – to drink. I am talking about the kind of pressure we’re reminded of when we think of teenagers, college students, or those in their early twenties, and how our friends, during this phase of our lives, were pushing us to drink.

Although we often think peer pressure in drinking is tied to a younger more footloose group, to twenty-somethings who are still finding themselves, I’ve discovered through my own experience and through learning about the experiences of my readers, that age and professional status really plays no role in whether someone will pressure or be pressured. Men and women in their 30’s, 40’s and 50’s are doing the pressuring.
It seems to me that social pressure to drink is more a cultural issue than an age issue.

I even have friends who claim they could never be in relationship with a person who doesn’t drink. Because that’s what every solid relationship is built on: consumption of alcohol.

In (Western) adult social culture, alcohol is a primary and important component of being part of a group, and people who are not interested in alcohol or dislike the taste, are subject to pressure to drink. They, in turn, are forced to find or create, what are deemed “legitimate reasons” for not joining in with the drinking. Failure to drink creates a barrier between the drinkers and those people, who, for various reasons, choose not to drink alcohol.

Why are we judging and pressuring people who don’t drink and why do we make them justify or explain their reasons for refusing alcohol?

Alcohol (and drinking) is a part of the wide range of social pressures in our culture and it’s part of the fabric of many people’s lives. However, it’s not an insignificant thing to ask and pressure someone else to drink.

I get that alcohol helps people loosen up in social settings, but it creates a barrier between people who choose to drink and people who don’t. And this barrier sets the tone for who talks to, and who hangs out with whom. It’s as if alcohol is the social glue that keeps us together, and if we don’t have it and are faced with some people who drink and some people who don’t, things seem to get off-balance and uncomfortable.

The idea of someone who doesn’t drink is so foreign to some people that we sometimes falsely assume that the person who is not drinking has a past of alcohol abuse or we force these non-drinkers to constantly explain themselves.

Mindy, a reader from Chicago in her early 30’s, often deals with new friends or colleagues who assume she was an alcoholic or member of A.A., because she chooses not to drink.

So when it comes to socializing, do we only have two categories for people: sober alcoholic or drinker? There are so many people that fall in between these two categories, they’re not really sober, but they’re also not active drinkers.

A friend of mine who works in corporate advertising commented on the pressure she feels when ordering a glass of water or lemonade at a restaurant with colleagues when everyone else is ordering wine or a cocktail, “I’m made to feel like I’m not an adult.”

Susie, a 38 year-old paralegal found herself being excluded from activities at work, because she barely drank.

“You won’t want to come out tonight because you don’t drink,” she would hear from her co-workers in an almost sympathetic tone (she would always be included in activities that didn’t include heavy drinking).

“I can still have a good time without drinking. It’s not like I’m standing there with my arms crossed at a bar, frowning. I just wonder if they feel judged if I am not doing shots with them and that’s why I’m not being included.”

For Susie and other people in her situation, the social interaction between colleagues, the same interaction that often aides people in their careers, is something that is stripped from her. Unless she’s willing to drink to intoxication, people just don’t feel comfortable having her around and so, Susie misses out on one part of professional networking.

My friend Erin, who is in her late 30’s, found her second pregnancy to be the saving grace, in terms of alleviating the pressure that comes with drinking, “I find it a relief now that I’m visibly six months pregnant, because I can point to my belly and say, ‘Sorry, I can’t!’”

“It will be a drag when I have to go back to explaining to people, ‘No really, I just don’t like it.’”

Having an excuse, whether it’s an illness or pregnancy, seems to offer a reprieve to those who don’t want to drink. But it still doesn’t make sense to me. I understand (but don’t accept) the social pressure to drink during high school and college-age years, but why are adults so obsessed with their friends, family, and colleagues drinking?

And why do there seem to be real, social consequences for people who don’t care to learn the difference between a Chardonnay and a Cabernet?


Yashar Ali is a Los Angeles-based columnist, commentator, and political veteran whose writings about women, gender inequality, political heroism, and society are showcased on his website, The Current Conscience. Please follow him on Twitter and join him on Facebook.

He will be soon releasing our first short e-book, entitled, A Message To Women From A Man: You Are Not Crazy — How We Teach Men That Women Are Crazy and How We Convince Women To Ignore Their Instincts. If you are interested and want to be notified when the book is released, please click here to sign-up.

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A Message To Women From A Man: You Are Not Crazy

Dec 2011 08

by Laurelin

The internet. It’s everywhere, connecting everything all the time. People don’t need to shop outside the house anymore, you can just order whatever you want from the internet and have it delivered. Clothes, shoes, groceries and…men? I have been aware of internet dating for a few years now, and I always turned up my nose at the thought of it. Seriously, if you can’t get out into the world and meet and connect with someone on your own than you probably should stop trying.

That’s an ignorant thing to say, I’m acutely aware of that now. Not everyone is [un] lucky enough to be in bars every night where members of the opposite sex are foaming at the mouth and leaving phone numbers scribbled on beer soaked cocktail napkins. But the other day I got to thinking. Maybe I have been going about this all wrong. I know I tend to meet the same type of guy over and over again at bars: young party types with more muscles than brains. Internet dating, while a product of a technological world, seems to take dating back to basics: conversation and actually getting to know someone.

After a talk with a girlfriend about her experiences in the world on online dating, I wound up joining a site that was basically just another app for my iPhone. My girlfriends and I started off my just browsing the guys just like we would online shop. Look at this one, ooooh, look at that one, he’s tall, cute, this one has a good job, this one has pictures of his cat. It was quite addicting. Soon we were getting a few messages a day and spending nights at work reading them and giggling. People have no shame online; some of the messages were dirty, some had poetry, some were simple and to the point. Some actually made me laugh, and one day I found myself replying, and before I knew it I was getting to know this… stranger.

He was nothing like me, and was like no one I would ever normally meet in a bar. Messaging back and forth online, we got to know a little about one another, answering questions that should have come out right away with other boyfriends but that never came up while we were too busy chugging beer and sleeping in. Then this guy asked the inevitable question– want to meet in person? I froze. I don’t know. Was it safe? I HATE DATING. I don’t even like going on dates with people I sort of know. As social of a person as I am, just the though of an actual date with someone I’m trying to get to know is more terrifying than bungee jumping into the grand canyon.

I took a breath and clicked reply. “Yes,” I said. “Let’s meet for coffee.” (Coffee?! Coffee?! It’s not beer!! What do I do?!) So we did. The day before Thanksgiving I found myself sitting in a coffee shop in Harvard Square, awaiting a stranger. He came, and he was just like his pictures. Tall, cute, and so nice. He was in grad school and had just moved to Boston, we came from similar families and while there was sometimes a lull in the conversation we managed to get through about an hour before deciding to part ways. I have never been more proud of myself, thinking outside the box and making myself take a leap into the unknown to try something new and scary.

I don’t think that the whole experience was exactly for me, but I did learn that I can see why it’s for a lot of people. It makes a lot of sense now, and it’s kind of nice to know that in the future should I want to meet someone new I can always try it again. But for now, I gratefully turn back to my safe bar scene, and the comforts of a fully stocked bar to help me get through conversation. I don’t think I want to date anyone for a while, whether in the digital or the analogue. The guys I meet normally, the young and muscled, the hipsters, the career bartenders, they are what I need right now. They’re all helping me get over a heartbreak that, after trying to date someone new, I’ve come to realize is still a bit too fresh. I need some more time I guess, and probably another martini…


Dec 2011 06

by Jensen

So, you may or may not remember, but a little while back I did a blog on here with Chris a.k.a. Ocell (of about bagel making. Well, we decided to have a reunion and make doughnuts! We are both big fans of breakfast pastries. And holes. And breakfast pastries with holes. So we made some. I liked making blogs with Chris because A) he usually makes things while I just stand around and take pictures/throw in commentary and B) he is precise and by-the-book with cooking and I’m scattered and more willing to try things that will potentially turn out fucked up but could also turn out amazing. Actually, I think I’m like that with most aspects of life. But anyway, we’re the good cop/bad cop of cooking.

He found this recipe on and we only changed one thing. We also halved the recipe, which you can easily do at AllRecipes automatically.

What You’ll Need

Doughnut Ingredients:

  • 2 (.25 ounce) envelopes active dry yeast
  • 1/4 cup warm water (105 to 115 degrees)
  • 1 1/2 cups lukewarm milk
  • 1/2 cup white sugar
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 2 eggs
  • 1/3 cup bacon grease
  • 5 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 quart vegetable oil for frying


Icing Ingredients:

  • 1/3 cup butter
  • 2 cups confectioners’ sugar
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
  • 4 tablespoons hot water or as needed
  • ***


    So we start to put together all of the ingredients and Chris goes, “I don’t think I have shortening. What is shortening?” And I tilt my head to the side and say, “Whaaaaaa? You really don’t know? Do you know what Crisco is?” I was literally amazed. It made me realize how much of a fatty I am for being so extremely familiar with Crisco. We ponder for a second and Chris says, “Do you think bacon grease will work?” And I say, “YES. BACON GREASE WILL WORK.” And he pulls a fucking jar of bacon grease out of his fridge, like this is a normal thing to have lying around. And thus, bacon doughnuts were created.

    To start, you just mix the yeast and water in a bowl. We were a bit worried about this because his yeast was a little old and it didn’t get super fizzy like the recipe said, but it turned out fine in the end. After this is done you mix in the rest of the ingredient (sans the flour), then slowly add the flour in. I tried to knead the dough with my hands and it was a sticky disaster (another thing that had us worrying that the doughnuts weren’t going to turn out), but then he kneaded (well, sort of kneaded) it together with a wooden spoon and it turned into that nice texture we were looking for.

    After the dough is a nice firm, fluffy looking texture, you let it rise for a bit. I don’t remember the exact amount of time; just wait for that shit to get nice and puffy.

    Once the dough is puffy, you roll it into a long rod (I’m having bagel déjà vu here and feel like I shouldn’t recycle the “rod” job I definitely remember using last time). You’re supposed to use a doughnut punch (cookie cutter looking thing), but who the heck has a doughnut punch? We just stretched them into circleish squares, and they turned out just fine.

    This is just a recipe break to post a picture of my second favorite cat, Chris’s kitty. SO. FUCKING. CUTE.

    Mix all of the icing ingredients together over heat. The icing starts out looking really gross and sickly, but it turns into the super sexy sugary pile of awesomeness. Don’t freak out when it starts out all chunky and gross!

    So you fry up the doughnuts until they’re golden brown, then slather them in that sexy icing you just made. Leave them on a rack to cool/let the icing harden. If you want to get crazy, you can put another layer of icing on them after the first layer is dry. That’s your call, bro.

    They weren’t the prettiest things in the world, but they were super delicious! You could taste a very faint bacon flavor. Not overpowering, just a little bit of smokiness. For a first try at doughnut making, I’d say we did a pretty fucking good job.

    I ate the fuck out of a doughnut.

    So moral of the story, a lot of things didn’t go exactly as planned with our doughnut making extravaganza, but they still turned out super delicious. So if you’re worried about trying them out, don’t be! Because I’m pretty sure anything full of bacon and butter and sugar and carbs is going to turn out fucking amazing. That’s the last blog Chris will be working on with me (I mean, unless you guys can come up with more breakfast pastries with holes), so say bye and give him a big thank you :]


    Nov 2011 30

    by Ryker Suicide

    This is my VERY coveted recipe for Chicken Enchiladas. I have kept it to myself long enough…time to release it into the world 🙂 I serve each enchilada on a bed of shredded lettuce, topped with a favorite combination of garnishes (this can include your favorite salsa, sour cream, diced jalapenos or your favorite pepper, and of course, fresh cilantro!), and sided with black beans and Spanish rice. This recipe serves 8. Typically I only cook for 2-4 so I always save half of the filling and freeze it for a quick and easy dinner for later! Also, left over enchiladas are great for breakfast served over lettuce and eggs! Enchiladas con juevos anyone? Nom nom nom….

    Ingredients Tacos:

    • 1 can of black beans
    • Lime juice
    • 1 bundle of fresh cilantro
    • 1 can of diced tomatoes/peppers
    • 4-5 cloves fresh garlic
    • 1 lb of chicken thighs or breast (I prefer thighs because they are so tender and pull easy, but breast is good too)
    • 1 can of enchilada sauce
    • 1 28 oz can stewed tomatoes
    • 5 green chilis (finely diced)
    • 4 chipotle peppers soaked in adobe sauce (also finely diced)
    • 2-4 tablespoons of adobe sauce from peppers (to TASTE, this sauce is a little on the spicy side. I tend to go overboard with it. I figured a normal person would use about half of what I use haha!)
    • 1 red or yellow onion (your preference, I like it both ways)
    • Ground cumin, salt, pepper, taco seasoning
    • Shredded cheese-Mexican blend
    • Corn tortillas (about 16 or so)
    • Spanish rice
    • Sour cream
    • Your favorite salsa – I think a fresh goes best with this dish
    • Shredded lettuce
    • Flour (for dredging)

    1) Pat chicken dry to ensure even browning. Season with salt/pepper/cumin. Dredge in a blend of taco seasoning and flour. Brown evenly on each side in large sauté pan coated with olive oil until cooked through. Sprinkle a bit of taco seasoning, cumin, and garlic powder while browning. Remove chicken from pan, set aside to cool.

    2) In the same pan sauté diced onion, ensuring to scrape up any yummy brown chicken bits left in the pan. Once onions are just translucent, add 2-3 cloves of garlic (minced!) and sauté for 45 seconds or until deliciously fragrant. Add finely diced peppers, sauté for another minute. Add stewed tomatoes and cook for another 3 minutes or so, breaking up the tomatoes as you do this so they aren’t in such huge chunks. Turn heat down and pull chicken, then return chicken to pan allowing it to simmer a few minutes. Add a bit of adobe sauce to taste. Then sprinkle entire mixture with flour to allow it to set. You can add a bit of taco seasoning too if you think it needs more flavor.

    3) In a large casserole dish add a nice full ladle of enchilada sauce to cover bottom of dish. Fill corn tortillas** with chicken mixture, sprinkle with some cheese, roll and set in dish. Repeat until dish is full. Then ladle remaining enchilada sauce over enchiladas and top with loads of yummy cheese until covered. Bake at 350 until cheese is melted and JUST BEGINNING to brown.

    While enchiladas are baking, make up a batch of Spanish rice, add a bit of cumin and any other seasonings to spice it up to your taste. While the rice is cooking, you can start on the beans.

    First sauté about a quarter to a half of a yellow onion in a pan until onions are tender and translucent, add 2 cloves minced garlic and sauté until aromatic. Then add beans and mix well. Then add a few squirts of lime juice (to taste) and about a half of a can or so of diced tomatoes/peppers. You can also add some green chilis here too if you’d like, I usually do. Then throw in as much chopped fresh cilantro as you’d like. I go heavy – I love cilantro. Again, this is to taste. Let beans simmer on low to keep warm until enchiladas are ready, which they should be about now 🙂

    I serve two enchiladas over a bed of shredded lettuce, with beans and rice on either side. I top the enchiladas with salsa, sour cream, diced scallions (optional), and fresh cilantro. You can also top with fresh diced jalapenos! Get creative 🙂

    **Hint: when using corn tortillas, it helps to heat them in the microwave for 30-60 seconds to make them warm and pliable since they will crumble less.


    Nov 2011 24

    by Laurelin

    The holidays are upon us. Halloween is over, and even with the turkey worshipping holiday only a few days away I find the world around me skipping over the gluttony and jumping right into the greed of the Christmas season. It’s everywhere: the commercials on TV, the lights going up all around my beautiful city, and my roommate bringing home scented candles that fill the house with the scent of peppermint and evergreen. I can’t help but feel a bit like the Grinch when his heart grew and burst out of that little metal box– I love this time of year. It makes me hopeful, the end of the year. Gathered with family, ready with friends to start a new year, a better year.

    “It’s boyfriend season,” my friend Lindsay said the other night. We were appropriately perched at my bar just as I had gotten off of work, my ex having taken over for me. Sundays are weird, us working together. We need to be friends, so I stay even when my shift is through. I glanced up at him quickly, our eyes meeting for an awkward fleeting moment as I flashed back to Lindsay, nodding and clutching my pint of beer. My knuckles were white around the glass and I thought it might break. It didn’t. Neither did I. God, every minute here is like an hour, trying to not look like an asshole, trying not to just run screaming from the room. Winter is more like ex-boyfriend season. I seem to be on a roll starting the holidays on my own year after year. How festive.

    Even with a few failures looming over my head I always feel lucky this time of year as well, impossibly lucky to have such an amazing family who supports me in everything I do. Never a word from my parents about who I was dating now and how it inevitably ended. Not a word about why I chose bartending, or why I chose writing. They know I chose a hard life, but one that makes me happy. I don’t have a husband or children to bring to Thanksgiving dinner or a lot of money in my bank account for retirement, I don’t have that amazing sense of style that my cousins have, the one that always makes me feel like I’m playing dress up no matter how nice I thought I looked when I left the house. I don’t have those things, but I feel lucky to have all of them, my family.

    During the holidays we all sit by the woodstove in our slippers, and drink our coffee with Baileys and we talk. We talk about everything, and I feel so lucky to be the black sheep in a family who loves me. We remember when my brother was sick for years, and my family had no money so everyone would come to our house and bring food for Thanksgiving. We remember when my cousin Matt was fighting in Iraq, and my aunt and uncle were too heartsick to travel, so we all went to their house and decorated a tree and hung stockings from the fireplace. I had arranged for my friend Lisa who worked for the USO to send Matt and every man in his company Christmas care packages, and when I told my Aunt she said it was the best present, and we all cried.

    I guess winter to me isn’t exactly boyfriend season– it’s the perfect season to be grateful for everything else that you have. It’s been another long year, a year of hard work and harder play. I know that I’m a little different than everyone else; still bartending, writing about drinking and ruined relationships. Just broke up with a new one, starting this new year alone. Again. Yes, I’m happy. Yes, seriously! Yes, I have more tattoos. No, you won’t like them. Pass my yellow duck slippers, I don’t know what I’m wearing but it’s not from The Gap and since the cousins showed up I feel frumpy. Pass the Baileys, we drink to my brother’s good health and his new marriage, to my cousin’s new baby and Matt’s safe return home. I might be in the midst of ex-boyfriend season, but it’s almost a new year, and we start it together. I can’t wait.