June 2011
41 posts
May 2011
34 posts
A wise friend first recommended to me the bloody mary as a hangover remedy the day after my 21st birthday.
That morning I woke up, texted my friend to ask if she had seen my chapstick and then proceeded to throw up. In class, I gripped the edge of my desk and chided myself for being so goddamn irresponsible (although a small part cheered that I finally had a reckless college moment). When I...
Real:
I have no life plan, and my only goal is happiness.
Right now I am happy, so wandering this path seems the most logical (and somehow, the most irresponsible).
I remember when I used to be able to act on the thought, “Hm, I like that dress, I think I’ll make it.”
For some reason I am completely obsessed with this... →
Probably because Beyoncé is a fucking bad ass, and just as powerful as her man.
(And she makes dusting Grammys look sexy.)
Stay classy, Florida. →
Asparagus, Chickpeas & Broccoli Rabe Over Polenta
Still working on my creamy polenta, using The Meatball Shop as inspiration (and a standard of taste to achieve).
Also attempting to improve my tipsy camera-phone shots, which will honestly continue to be pieces of shit until I start using an iPhone. Or stop drinking roughly the caloric content of my dinner.
Get the (easy and delicious) recipe here!
I’m missing the torrential downpours of Florida.
The pounding rain that stings your skin and doesn’t allow you to see two feet in front of you. If it isn’t blowing at an angle, it feels like a thousand hammers on your umbrella and it takes every ounce of strength to hold it over your head- if you’re stupid enough to use an umbrella, considering it isn’t worth your...
Jon Ronson
or adult Harry Potter?
Lately
I’ve been wondering what makes me such a happy person.
I haven’t always been this relatively carefree and blissful; when I think of the minor stresses that currently exist in my life, I shudder to imagine how I would’ve handled them two years ago. Maybe it has something to do with the alleged love of your life shitting on your face, discovering wine and then losing your faith in...
I wish I had a dollar for every bruise on my body.
Simple Mint Julep
2 cups water
2 cups sugar
large bunch of mint
Bourbon
Set the water over medium high heat and stir the sugar until it dissolves. Let the mixture simmer for five minutes, stirring occasionally.
Remove the simple syrup from the heat and add the mint leaves; allow to cool slightly before refrigerating for about three hours (if you have it).
To serve, strain the mint leaves and pour a bit of...
Dear Rebekah,
You’re a selfish bitch and we despise you. Without us, you would be confined to a wheelchair. You depend on us to make your obsessive workouts possible, to bike to work, to walk to the train, to function, for God’s sake. And yet when we’re screaming in pain, aching, desiring nothing but a little love and relaxation, you pushpushpush.
You are not an athlete, you are not getting...
Thursday, after work:
Book
Couch
Cocktail
(Solid.)
Dear Eyes,
Why do you have to be so easily irritated?
Can I really not rub you once without you getting all itchy and watery? Really, it’s not like I have cat hair or pet dander all over my hands. I haven’t run my fingers over a row of flowers, getting them nice and dusty with pollen, and then pressed them to my bare eyeballs. I make sure my hands are nice and clean, but no, that isn’t...
Butternut Squash with Black Olives, Capers, and...
Medium butternut squash, peeled and chopped
Olive oil
1 Tbsp garlic, minced or finely chopped
Salt and pepper, to taste
Thyme (dried or fresh)
1 half fresh squeezed lemon
1/4 C water
1/2 C- 1 C Black olives
2 Tbsp Capers
Couscous (amount per servings)
Spinach or rocket (optional)
Sautee the garlic and olive oil until the garlic is lightly brown; toss in the butternut...
I have a bad habit
of ripping guys apart when I’m drunk and they’re hitting on me. For some reason I think it’s hilarious to be a massive, obnoxious bitch, and for some reason guys actually enjoy it. As I continually become more and more insulting they think I’m being increasingly flirtatious. Bored, and thinking of how much bad dating karma I already have piled up, I usually walk away...
This
is a drunk rant about garbage.
Garbage, you are gross.
Inevetibaly, you reek although I know everything that has been tossed into your Seventh Generation bag. Yet still, I am continually disgusted by you and no matter how determined I am on a Saturday afternoon or Tuesday evening, I cannot be rid of you on trash pick-up days. Something happens. I am distracted by painting my nails on my last...
