Cheering yourself up in five steps:
1) Have your best friend bring over breakfast
2) Scrub the hell out of your balcony, prep for gardening (no 'before' photos of balcony permitted; it's much too embarrassing)
3) Iced coffee. Iced coffee. Iced coffee.
4) Mariachi el Bronx, loud as possible
5) Shower dance party (no slipping! champion!)
TA - DA !
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
packing for the cottage in 1 minute or less
DONE.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
wikehd
work, work, work, work, baseball, work, work, work, work, work, patio lunch, work, work, work, work, prove that I'm still incapable of eating an ice cream cone without covering myself in it, work, work, work, work, cottage.
come on, tuesday.
come on, tuesday.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
FWP
Everything new is slowly being phased out of the house. Since I moved out and got all independentwoman! on life, I've had this delightful little kettle, a hand-me-down from Nanny. In an increasingly sophisticated kettle world, she looks a little out of place -- can't whistle to let me know she's boiling, needs to actually be put on a burner instead of her own little stand -- but she works.
In one of his frequent showings of generosity, a few weeks ago Pa brought us a new kettle. His intentions were good -- this one doesn't boil itself to death, it heats up exponentially faster than my little beater, you just have to press a button and you're set -- but I hate it.
(excuse the messy countertop)
It is a huge chore to refill. The stupid handle doesn't move. You have to very carefully manipulate the opening underneath the tap, and it can't be filled more than halfway before the angle at which it needs to be held results in it overflowing.
The frustrations never cease with first world problems.
In one of his frequent showings of generosity, a few weeks ago Pa brought us a new kettle. His intentions were good -- this one doesn't boil itself to death, it heats up exponentially faster than my little beater, you just have to press a button and you're set -- but I hate it.
(excuse the messy countertop)
It is a huge chore to refill. The stupid handle doesn't move. You have to very carefully manipulate the opening underneath the tap, and it can't be filled more than halfway before the angle at which it needs to be held results in it overflowing.
The frustrations never cease with first world problems.
no parents week
Despite my general abhorrence of the purse, for the past year or so I have been absolutely obsessed with everything produced by Forestbound.
Canvas and leather and WWII relics? YES PLEASE. I drool every time a new bag is posted. More disposable income is very much a necessity.
don't you lay those hallelujah's on those baby heads no more
Jack-of-all-trades and all-around amazing guy Tim McCreadytook some photos of me the other day. I figure, hey, I'm supremely uncomfortable in front of a camera, may as well get over that with someone I trust.
Later in the day, true to tradition, we celebrated Andrea Westbrook's birthday with the boys of summer.
Later in the day, true to tradition, we celebrated Andrea Westbrook's birthday with the boys of summer.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
don't forget me.
I can give her flack for it till the cows come home, but I like music about feelings just as much as the next lame girl, and Sarah nailed it by showing me this diddy (and then rightfully teasing me while I fell in love with it).
There is such comfort in a bath of nostalgia when I find my own truths falling away.
There won't be another lazy Sunday at the Green Room or a living room filled with orange light and raspy voices, or a dirty skillet and empty wine bottle on the countertop, wardrobe mirrors and breadboxes of art supplies, and joining that happy bank may soon be the home in which I grew up.
Keep it hazy.
There is such comfort in a bath of nostalgia when I find my own truths falling away.
There won't be another lazy Sunday at the Green Room or a living room filled with orange light and raspy voices, or a dirty skillet and empty wine bottle on the countertop, wardrobe mirrors and breadboxes of art supplies, and joining that happy bank may soon be the home in which I grew up.
Keep it hazy.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
you wanna be, you gotta be.
I'm excited for the first Island of the season, and how near/far we go in a year.
Today was a day of $1 beer, $2 tacos, $11 vintage and $30 bike rentals. This city is so flat, it's shocking how it remains so unfriendly to cyclists.
My dress is made of blanket and I have fallen in love with the fictionalization of J.R. Oppenheimer.
You handsome, destructive devil, you.
I was recommended this book for all the wrong reasons, but I couldn't be happier it wound up in my lap. It is so delicately, graciously, intelligently written. Every turn of the page elicits a shockingly accidental smile, and I am taking my time with it lest it end too soon (which it will, anyway). Pick it up. Then lets get coffee.
Today was a day of $1 beer, $2 tacos, $11 vintage and $30 bike rentals. This city is so flat, it's shocking how it remains so unfriendly to cyclists.
My dress is made of blanket and I have fallen in love with the fictionalization of J.R. Oppenheimer.
You handsome, destructive devil, you.
I was recommended this book for all the wrong reasons, but I couldn't be happier it wound up in my lap. It is so delicately, graciously, intelligently written. Every turn of the page elicits a shockingly accidental smile, and I am taking my time with it lest it end too soon (which it will, anyway). Pick it up. Then lets get coffee.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Sunday afternoon ritual.
Come home from work, nap, light every candle in the house, coconut oil hair, read the Saturday Star, cheese pizza, wine, roommate movie, book, sleep.
Favourite day of the week, bar none.
Favourite day of the week, bar none.
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