I got all sorts of nifty gifts for Christmas this year.
From my brother, I got this quesadilla maker.
He knows I like ridiculous, use-them-once-and-then-put-in-a-cabinet-forever kitchen gadgets. I already own a juicer, a wand-blender, and a George Foreman grill. The quesadilla maker is a welcome addition to the family and will look excellent in the cabinet next to all the other stuff. Although the George Foreman grill really is great for grilling chicken breasts and I do actually use it. (Too bad it's a pain to clean.)
From my grandmother, I got ten dollars. This is the same ten dollars she has given me every Christmas since 1979. And every year she says the same thing: "Go buy yourself something nice!" It is important to note my grandmother is a zillionaire who sleeps on a bed made of money.
So I took that ten dollars, went to a bar with my friends, and bought a Long Island Iced Tea.
I got shitfaced. Thanks grandma!
From Michael Lucas*, I got this movie.
I don't know how he knows I am obsessed with el Almodóvar. I'm super-stoked.
* Yes, that Michael Lucas, over there to the right. Not "work safe."
From my mom, I got a copy of every Julia Child cookbook ever published.
I asked for this one, but she just bought them all. Wicked cool.