Friggin' tourists. The city has gone insane for the night -- and the area around Rockefeller Center was jammed. I skimmed the outer perimeter as I made my way to the train station, listening to Lo-Fidelity Allstars on my MP3 player.

Had a nice IM chat with Brandi and Frylock before leaving the office. Brandi made a gratuitous (and thoroughly disingenuous) comment about how much she liked to cook -- Frylock saw right through it. I challenged her to cook us an entire meal of only artichokes, perpared in seven different ways (with extra credit for finding a dessert option).

Right now I'm maxing on the sofa, sipping vermouth and sorting through some paperwork. And despite my enjoyment of wormwood-infused spirits, I don't think I drink nearly as much wine as Cookie thinks.

Or do I?

And if I don't, should I?