Nuit por Leslie, tres bon, no?

Okay, don't think I'm crazy, but when one spends enough time on one's own, one gets ideas.
Tonight, I had a Leslie Night. Leslie Dickey is my good friend living in York, NE--though she is the kind of person one would imagine living in New York. To describe her, I would begin with words like edgy, creative, epicurious, aesthetic, funny, and intriguing. She is off-beat enough to test the limits of my life inside the box, but never so presumptuous to push me outside of it without my consent. There are certain small things Leslie had made me appreciate that, were it not for her, I would've passed up without a thought. So it was the least I could do when I decided to dedicate an entire evening to her. My agenda was as follows:
Come home and take off all the accessories that made my outfit fabulous, yet a little less than comfortable during my workday, made a real meal, poured a glass of chardonnay and turned on "Paris, je T'aime", at her recommendation that I rent it. I proceeded to cry through most of the middle, baked three chocolate chip cookies for myself, then ate them warm out of the oven and began to feel better immediately. Finally, after the movie was over, I made a mixed-CD to be proud of and flipped through Blueprint magazine she'd loaned to me before I left Lincoln. I wasn't reading it though, I mostly just flipped through looking at the pictures and imagining what motif she would decide on when she finally got her own place. If I had read the magazine, I imagine all the funky fonts would've read, over and over, "I miss Leslie". When she reads this, she will probably make some girly-cooing noise, then come to her senses and realize how hideously corny that last sentence was.
I'll put on my newly-mixed CD before I go to bed and let it run until it runs out or I fall asleep, whichever comes first, and include Leslie in my prayers because I am thankful for her and God deserves to know it.