Missing Unicorn.

Please help this poor woman find her missing pet.

Long-term shopping list: Quoddy

I've been admiring Quoddy shoes and boots for sometime.  Sometime soon I might just buy myself a pair.  I like that they are handmade and I feel like they will break-in well.


Micro Mutts

I have small dogs, but this is a little ridiculous.  Seriously.  These Lux Pups can't be real.  They must be a mix of baby seals, rainbows, dreams, sunshine, baby kittens, teddy bears, magic and faerie dust. 

Food Food FOOD Food.

Zagat came out with its “America’s Top Restaurants” guide.   Usually I am not on board with these idiot voter-fueled top-ten lists, but I think its take on the Twin Cities' best is pretty close to right-on. Here's the list:
- La Belle Vie
- 112 Eatery
- Vincent
- Restaurant Alma
- Meritage
- Lucia's Restaurant
- Manny's Steakhouse
- Heartland Restaurant & Farm Direct Market
- Oceanaire Seafood Room

Dogs with low self-esteem.

On Saturday, I had the pleasure of attending (or at least breezing through) NYC's annual Halloween Dog Parade. To describe this experience, I have two words: absolutely ridiculous.



I joined Facebook a couple years ago.  My feelings for Facebook have played out much like a high school romance.
  1. You're cute. I'm curious and intrigued, yet cautious.
  2. I like you - I join.  It's like the 2 weeks leading up to prom.  Everything is shiny and exciting.  All I can think about, talk about, do is Facebook.  
  3. Prom is over.  The magic is starting to wear off.  I don't care if you poke me, send me a plant for my virtual garden, etc. . . . Though I am still enjoying your embarrassing drunk photos.
  4. You are starting to really annoy me.  We should maybe just be friends with no photo-sharing wall-writing privileges.  I spend the next 4 hours turning my profile into Fort Knox. 
  5. Time to clean house.  I'm blocking and hiding like crazy.

I Spilled. . .

I am a truly exceptional spiller of things.  If something can be spilled, even with great difficulty, I will spill it.

Today I spilled: 
Item: 1 Large iced-coffee
Where: In my lap. On my way to work.  
Damage done: Sat in wet coffee mess for 25 minutes.  Moderate stain on pants.  Ego bruised.  Morning commute made more frustrating.

Update: I hate you, Lindsay Lohan.

While my feelings regarding Lindsay remain unchanged, I was delighted to see over the weekend that St. Mark's Market in New York's East Village had a fresh shipment of all flavors of GT's Kombucha.  Hopefully the nectar of the god's will soon return to Minneapolis as well.


I hate you, Lindsay Lohan.

Okay, to be fair I don't actually know Lindsay Lohan; she might be a lovely person.  What I do know is that when I headed over to my local grocer for lunch I was hankering for a bottle of Kombucha.  And not the garbage kinds that are on the market right now that taste like watered down Crystal Light.  I want the real deal GT's Kombucha.  Thanks to that idiot GT's Kombucha "magic juice" is still off the market and I am still ticked off.  Seriously.  You are more likely to set off a SCRAM bracelet with a can of Fresca and a bag of Funyons than you are with GT's wondrous cure-all. 

Once upon a time.

Once upon time, in a land far far away I had a blog . . . Okay not that long ago and not that far away. . . It was actually only a few years ago while I was a resident of the fine city of Boston.  I loved my blog and I thought that my blog loved me.  Life took a turn and a move.  While that blog (name not to be mentioned) is a thing of my past, the Minneapolist is a result of the present and a little window into the future.

Well hello.

Minneapolist, meet reader(s). Reader(s), meet Minneapolist. It is lovely to make your acquaintance.