tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72251302142624029552024-02-19T14:24:28.668-05:00Tide Poolwelcome to the day's collectionUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-44802758102478342252013-01-08T13:36:00.000-05:002013-01-08T13:36:37.685-05:00Happy New Year! As I look out my window, unwinding from the whirlwind of family and friends and laughter and wine that was the holidays, I am feeling enormously grateful for the lovely people in my life. Since moving up here, it has been hard to not see them every day--I'm close with my family, and my friends are extremely dear to me--but going several months apart and then spending the time together as though nothing had changed was both comforting and affirmative that distance does not have the grip on our relationships that it once did. Through texts and phone calls and the ever-present Facebook, we have stayed connected and, while I miss them greatly, the distance doesn't feel quite as far as it did before :).<br />
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Welcome to 2013! My favorite thing about this part of the year is that, as dreary as it may be (I'm looking at spotty brown grass, a steely overcast sky and temperatures in the 30s), we have passed the longest night of the year and so everything is just an upward tick to spring and then, summer. In the meantime, I plan to continue to use my fireplace as much as possible, and the many wonderful, cozy candles and wineglasses and warm things I was given this year as gifts. <br />
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So in 2012, I wrote a novel. Yes, it actually happened! I was pretty horrible about posting my word count on here daily, because by the time I was done writing for the day I was, truly, done writing for the day. But it happened, all 50,000 words and change, and I am simultaneously thrilled to begin editing and terrified. They say take a month away from your own writing so that you can look on it with fresh eyes, and, hopefully, that is what I will be able to do. If I'll still like it at the end is a totally different story. But fingers crossed that I will be able to find what I need in there, and then beginning looking at the next, completely overwhelming step of attempting to get it published.<br />
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I have a tendency to want to rush headlong into everything and, instantly, become extremely good at it. This is both good and bad, because, while it does drive me, it also makes me extremely frustrated when I am not immediately perfect at the task I've set out to do. I'm vowing not to be like that in this process--which, from what I can tell, is often disappointing and fruitless and cruel- but I am sure it will be a struggle, which I will be posting about as frequently as I can here.<br />
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Anyway, I have to go do a million other things but I wanted to get the first post of the year accomplished, the beginning of my fourth year on Tidepool :).<br />
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Here's to a productive year, to a year full of warmth and unexpected magic, to happiness and successes, to travel and family and love.<br />
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MWAH<br />
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Moi.<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-17686111739237098902012-11-09T17:09:00.001-05:002012-11-09T17:15:52.920-05:00AAAAAND 15,011 words, y'all!<br />
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HOORRAY!<br />
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And let me just say, lesson learned. No more procrastination for me, no sir. I will be writing my quota daily.<br />
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The good news too, though, is that I did power through some scenes AND those tricky plot holes have neatly sewn themselves up in my brain.<br />
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Also, I made this awesome gif of Xavier Rhodes dominating a v-tech player last night. It's the first gif I've ever made ever and I have no idea how to embed it, but here is the <a href="http://imgflip.com/i/6c01" target="_blank">link</a>.<br />
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I know, it's insanely small, and I have no idea why. But look at how he knocks him down with his ARM and then looks down at him. Like the BA he is. LOVE IT SO MUCH.<br />
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Okay, I'm done. But seriously. So awesome.<br />
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In all honesty, I'm pretty much out of words for today. I will be checking in tomorrow, but right now I have completely abandoned everything but writing so I'm going to go take care of some of that.<br />
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See you tomorrow!<br />
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Mwah,<br />
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Moi.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-38242347455587680152012-11-09T01:01:00.001-05:002012-11-09T01:01:29.625-05:00Calling it in at 1 a.m. 1,000 words shy. BUT I will be catching up tomorrow morning fully, totally and completely. Clocking out at 12,375 words. See you in the a.m., bright and early :)<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-77387655297935214782012-11-08T13:12:00.002-05:002012-11-08T13:12:49.760-05:00Okay, I fully deserve to be called a slacker.<br />
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I stopped Tuesday at 9,010 words to watch the election--and, because, honestly, I am in a strange place with my plot. Primarily, I need to start explaining it a little more and have my characters start taking actions to further that plot. And I'm not sure what that looks like yet, which means that, yesterday, I hid from my story instead of actually writing it. And that was not productive at all.<br />
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So today, I need to make it to 13,333 words. Which I will be doing, I don't care how long it takes. The whole point of the entire month is to write write write everyday, and I need to catch up for my own sanity. So I will be checking in tonight with an additional 4,323 words. Which isn't going to be easy, but it is going to happen. Wish me luck friends, see you tonight. :)<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-72128734943948852872012-11-06T14:57:00.002-05:002012-11-06T14:57:12.251-05:00AS promised, updated word count! 8, 784. Finally was able to get my head around some actual writing and stop distracting myself. Will check in tonight with the final word count goal of the NaNoWriMo today: 10,000 words!<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-928371769116709072012-11-05T23:02:00.002-05:002012-11-05T23:02:38.400-05:00Today, I was all caught up in formatting and working on the project that is paying the bills, and I was bad, and I wrote very little. And by very little, I mean nufin. But I will be posting an updated word count tomorrow afternoon and then again tomorrow evening, so I will be all caught up. Pinky promise.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-67218946904157446752012-11-04T19:32:00.001-05:002012-11-04T19:32:40.959-05:00Today, I made frittata and crepes, and felt super European and healthy. K was extremely suspicious--"Isn't that a quiche?"--but I assured him that no, it was not disgusting and, lo and behold, it was delicious. I used egg whites, and it turned out perfectly. The crepes were a minor disaster, as we had no butter. But we ate them still, because we do not waste food--even experimental food--in this house! And we had them with apple butter, which automatically makes everything 1000x better.<br />
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Here is the frittata recipe:<br />
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8 eggs (or 10 egg whites)<br />
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4 cups of whatever you want to be in the frittata. (I did mozzarella, spinach, turkey sausage and green peppers).<br />
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Bake at 350 for 30-45 minutes. It's done when a knife comes out clean.<br />
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I'm not going to include the crepes recipe. But you should go buy some apple butter, like, now.<br />
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Today's NaNoWriMo count: 6,689! YAY! I'm up by 20 words! It took a while, but feels really good. Going to go celebrate now with vino and some apple butter.<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-70716575714651236482012-11-03T23:44:00.002-04:002012-11-03T23:44:51.389-04:00Spent part of today catching up on New Girl. Seriously, that show makes me giggle. Me and a million Americans, I know. But still.<br />
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Short one tonight, just keeping up with my resolution. I have completed 2, 980 words. The goal by Sunday is 6,667 words. So I will hopefully be checking in tomorrow with that number, or above! Wish me luck :)<br />
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Mwah,<br />
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Moi.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-5585638542809039882012-11-02T20:16:00.001-04:002012-11-02T21:53:20.175-04:00So I have discovered the best tea in the world. It is Bengal Spice by Celestial Seasonings, and it is even better than Starbucks chai tea lattes. YES, I went there. And the best part? It tastes sweet and perfect without adding any sugar. I don't know, it's bizarre, and probably magical. You should try it.<br />
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Starbucks sent me an email today letting me know that the red cups were back. It was one of the bi-weekly emails I've been getting since they made the rude announcement that gold card holders -- who, through the purchase and chugging of 30 freaking drinks in less than a year, had believed they had attained free soy and syrup for at least the rest of the year--would no longer get these benefits. </div>
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This was a terrible idea, because 1.) Consumers don't like having their free stuff taken away from them, duh and 2) You are dealing with people who would drink mass amounts of coffee to get a small discount on drinks that, to keep, they must keep purchasing. They are not rational and they are obsessed.</div>
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I, of course, fall into this category. I was so ticked off, I wrote a comment, along with 986354896 other pissed off latte-chuggers. The general tone was strongly worded disappointment. Polite, but scathing. </div>
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"New and improved just means that you are giving us less" observed one disenchanted customer.</div>
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"It's ridiculous to have a rewards card and then take rewards away," wrote another. "Buh bye Starbucks."</div>
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Some resorted to threats. </div>
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"I've just done 'the math"' on the change," wrote Sbuxxxx. "Even with earning free drinks faster, the charge for soy means that over the course of 6 months I would be paying over $100 MORE with the new program. </div>
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Looks like I'll be making my own coffee more..."</div>
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Others tried to bargain. </div>
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"I am very disappointed in the decision to eliminate free soy. I agree with those who have suggested staying at 15 as the limit for a free drink as opposed to 12 if it means the elimination of free soy."</div>
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But, alas, it was all for naught. Starbucks stonily refused to give us what we want. They burned up that lactose intolerant bridge, boy did they.</div>
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But now, I am getting the equivalent of "come back, baby" emails. </div>
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"We gave you free drink!!!!"</div>
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"We have yummy pumpkin things you love!!"</div>
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"We HAVE RED CUPS! You know how DELICIOUS red cup drinks are! They are CHRISTMAS! Peppermint Mocha! Gingerbread! Eggnog! Santa!"</div>
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But you know what, Starbucks? Taylor Swift said it best, I think.</div>
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LOLZ yeah right I'm totally going there this weekend for some pepperminty deliciousness. Plus, I need 13 more drinks to stay a gold card member! Time's a wastin!</div>
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So I said I would check in daily with my Na No Wri Mo total, and so, here it is.....drumroll please....: 1,298.</div>
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YAY! Couldn't make it to 1,300. Idk. Tomorrow though, for sure.</div>
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MWAH,</div>
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Moi.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-18819130470323867402012-11-01T22:28:00.000-04:002012-11-01T22:28:02.622-04:00So we had a total of two trick or treaters. Which means lots of leftover candies. What a shame.<br />
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Halloween is over, friends, which apparently means now that we all storm head-first into Christmas. Good lord. It's already happening. I walked into Target (SHOCKER) and there was a massive, green and red and purple and gold GLITTERY sign that proclaimed, "All is merry and bright!!!".<br />
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Now don't get me wrong. I am all about some Christmas, tidings of great joy, family, food, presents, snow, rocking out to Mannheim Steamroller. Sign me up. But let's give it a week or two, right?<br />
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There was also a massive display of Christmas candy. Eyeing this tempting collection, I booked it for the household cleaning aisle, safe and far from chocolate urges. I just ate 747436 pounds of Halloween candy in the spirit of "What the heck, it's just for Halloween". This is greedy, folks. Greedy.<br />
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To detox, I concocted a delicious zucchini, tomato and canned chicken entree.<br />
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Now, I know what you are thinking. Canned chicken? Isn't that nasty? Doesn't it have the texture and appearance of albacore tuna? And yes, all three of those things are true.<br />
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But we have hurricane food left over, and waste not, want not, I always say. That chicken will be going bad soon (expiration date 2099) and also I forgot to defrost actual fresh chicken. THE POINT IS that I improvised ratatouille and it was very easy and fresh tasting. Cooked it up with olive oil, salt, pepper and garlic and gave it to K, who ate it despite the canned chicken, something I love him for.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS37EEVsGfR-sPNhyMgclWoZd0tWB-CmstRJXr3syaobxIZLdzTY1vqoWBSwmpettsloMCfIC96w5yJTD5AnXNFuFmzViH3E4kpbuS1B3qSDh-3oCU6gPDhnX_KWGYiqcbi0TprC0OWe0C/s1600/20121031_192853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS37EEVsGfR-sPNhyMgclWoZd0tWB-CmstRJXr3syaobxIZLdzTY1vqoWBSwmpettsloMCfIC96w5yJTD5AnXNFuFmzViH3E4kpbuS1B3qSDh-3oCU6gPDhnX_KWGYiqcbi0TprC0OWe0C/s320/20121031_192853.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
It's like Julia Child up in here, I tell ya.<br />
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In other news, I've decided to participate in National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write a novel in a month. 50,000 words. It's, obviously, a rough draft at the end, but the brilliance is that it gets you to actually write the book. Which, despite the fact that every published author I've ever met/read has insisted is the best/only way to ever get published, I have yet to do. So here it is. In writing. I am embarking on this journey of 50,000 words, and will see it to the end. DONE.<br />
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They say to make yourself accountable, and so I am going to make myself accountable here. Every day, I will write an entry here, and update my word count and status. I also promise that it will take up no more than a few sentences, because really, unless/until it's published, who cares?<br />
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That was easy!<br />
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I leave you with the video that has dominated my evening.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/QlwilbVYvUg" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Mwah,<br />
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Moi.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-68987391848811916852012-10-31T00:45:00.000-04:002012-10-31T01:03:53.752-04:00BooHappy Halloween! It's officially Halloween as I type this, and we are out of the candy that we purchased on Thursday as part of our storm preparation.<br />
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Two things happened: the storm( thankfully!) gave us only driving, cold, wet rain but no power outages or flooding, and we ate up all our emergency rations.<br />
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And by emergency rations, I mean Reese's. Leave me alone, I KNOW.<br />
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And, this is the sad part: I hid half of it under the bed. And that was no deterrent, especially with the lack of anything to do, really, but eat candy. And watch the West Wing. What happened to politics, really?<br />
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Anyway, I guess the poor trick or treaters will be getting craisins, the supplies we didn't eat.<br />
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FALSE. We are so getting some more candy tomorrow. I love Halloween.<br />
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SO I decorated! As we speak, our redneck jack o'lantern, which I brought in from the inclement weather, is glowing on our counter. We carved him last weekend, and I am so delighted. Just look. He's so cute.<br />
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For my centerpieces on a budget, I went with a thrift store basket ($2.55) and filled it with baby pumpkins, gourds, and apples (about .69 cents each) and added a candle on either side. I want to eventually spruce it up with sparkly leaves or sticks, but I am desperately lacking a Michael's up here and Joanne's makes me feel lazy for not making my own clothes.<br />
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And how freaking cute is Spooky?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpb1UoFljcXbK1cLmghK0zDiWkY8Bx3kyhd1pl6ovpbDx9MqsR_pQWCVEG0gmTe79ui9s3dvehwdCVSWya1k8HS21fEjuY7CxYaZ0yMCNsRVVRQJ4kKC0NrwI0OWXgbPqkjqvbpNYEe5Pn/s1600/20121017_182941.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpb1UoFljcXbK1cLmghK0zDiWkY8Bx3kyhd1pl6ovpbDx9MqsR_pQWCVEG0gmTe79ui9s3dvehwdCVSWya1k8HS21fEjuY7CxYaZ0yMCNsRVVRQJ4kKC0NrwI0OWXgbPqkjqvbpNYEe5Pn/s400/20121017_182941.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">K found her a few days after, and was like, ??? But I mean, what's to explain, really?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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And of course flowers and the beloved pumpkin candle! It's 44 degrees up here, btw, so you can bet that baby has been burning away.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvWBzJkWi9cTdt7FikdzPIhZnX9xrJnPuuL7eu7_JXbAugtXBHllqQ9p7TdOF6D2XmgMbKyXT-xBsIniFEmyCvZz7HJPm09qk2jPBztn-NyLzgCwJYyaLj-eIojIS_gw5AuS04lJvdauax/s1600/PhotoGrid_1351658416483.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvWBzJkWi9cTdt7FikdzPIhZnX9xrJnPuuL7eu7_JXbAugtXBHllqQ9p7TdOF6D2XmgMbKyXT-xBsIniFEmyCvZz7HJPm09qk2jPBztn-NyLzgCwJYyaLj-eIojIS_gw5AuS04lJvdauax/s400/PhotoGrid_1351658416483.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Oh and I had to spend $12 dollars for my costume, which is a witch hat. And a black dress I have. I will be wearing it all day tomorrow, because I love Halloween.<br />
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In other news, I need to finalize decorating our bathroom, which right now is done in the style of Mess. We keep everything mostly pretty tidy, I think, but somehow the bathroom is always a disaster. It doesn't help that our counter is approximately 2 inches on either side, and I cram every beauty item I own on it. So washing your hands is kind of a booby-trapped adventure.<br />
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But I need to get my act together here pretty soon and buy some matching towels, because K's family is coming to visit for Thanksgiving! Which I honestly cannot WAIT for, because it will involve decorating and planning a menu and baking and cooking and wine and great conversation and hello, have you met me. But I do need to freshen the towel situation to something from this century.<br />
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Anyway, I leave you with a glowing pumpkin and wishes for a sugar-filled day.<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-40867125558494686862012-10-16T16:27:00.001-04:002012-10-31T00:45:36.810-04:00FallIt's been a while, friends, because I have been full of business.<br />
1.) We found a table.<br />
2.) I have been spending a lot of time trying to concoct an idea for a Halloween costume for free.<br />
3.) I went to Atlantic City and DC as a part of my freelancing gig, and played black jack like a PRO. (The slots, however, are SO stupid.)<br />
4.) I have been basking in the glory of Virginia fall.<br />
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Lately, flocks of Canadian geese have been camping out in the park outside my window, which I love. I know they are cranky and evil, but I think they are majestic. From a distance.<br />
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Fall is officially here, and the windows have been open non-stop all week. It's been a glorious 63 in the afternoons and a chilly 50 in the evenings, which is delightful to fall asleep too. K and I are plotting our first attempt at making a fire in our little brick fireplace, and I cannot WAIT.<br />
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I am actually about to run out and get some fall flowers and a gourd family to throw together in a way I'm not entirely sure about yet. My approach to decorating is this strange combination of pottery barn and things I can find in the dollar store, which, as you can imagine, can be pretty hit or miss. I'll upload pics as soon as I get it together to let you judge for yourself :).<br />
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If I'm truly honest with myself, the part I am really looking forward to is the bit when we fill a gigantic bowl with candy and eat it all in the name of being festive. The issue with this is, of course, we have a candy problem. Moderation does not exist for us. Candy in the house gets eaten. The first day of October, I filled our awkward pumpkin with candy corn in celebration. It was gone in a week. So new approach to this will be to temper the candy supply and hide the rest. Out of sight, out of mind. I will also let you know how this goes.<br />
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One thing I want to try for sure this year is popcorn balls. When I was a small girl, I went trick or treating with one of my friends, and we stopped by her grandmother's house, where I tasted the best and only popcorn ball of my life. I am determined to recreate them at some point this year. I found a variety of recipes, and they all involve massive amounts of condensed milk, sugar, and butter. Which kind of sounds like I can't lose. Which I like when baking.<br />
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I'm out the door in search of fall, since this part of the year is too fabulous not to discuss.<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-74780514922546452642012-09-11T22:39:00.002-04:002012-10-31T00:45:46.842-04:00BreadToday, I made bread.<br />
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I understand that on the grand scale of important things people do, bread is down there with like, drinking water.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO41JIRcRYOWoHE5MDLobmvMRvzAq6W1GAFJ0XoK2cysLnQF0Hv16lwdyHDu2rEhcmumLGmQLAiOvGP0fYDzv_myz8WP6CEeIsV_-htjC7pPnfv2LE11cAwKgoyMn-_TJU7lbHJMXehLpZ/s1600/The-Boy-With-The-Bread-the-hunger-games-30961873-500-282.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO41JIRcRYOWoHE5MDLobmvMRvzAq6W1GAFJ0XoK2cysLnQF0Hv16lwdyHDu2rEhcmumLGmQLAiOvGP0fYDzv_myz8WP6CEeIsV_-htjC7pPnfv2LE11cAwKgoyMn-_TJU7lbHJMXehLpZ/s320/The-Boy-With-The-Bread-the-hunger-games-30961873-500-282.jpeg" width="320" /></a>Although bread has recently enjoyed a comeback in the popular mind due to Peeta, AKA THE BOY WITH THE BREAD, for the most part, it is a No. 1 on the scale of awesome things to bake. With my Reese's cake being at like, a No. 7. So 10 is the best. Okay you've got it.<br />
So, despite the fact that bread is not that big a deal, this was a huge success for me, especially since my father makes an amazing french baguette and sour dough, so I had the expectations of the family on my shoulders as well.<br />
But I'll be honest here, there were several times when I didn't think it was going to work out. Give me a batter, some chocolate chips and some butter and we are good to go. But dough? Yeast? Foreign tools my friends.<br />
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The going, at times, was rough.<br />
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When I didn't have a dough attachment for my Kitchen Aid mixer, for example. Or a Kitchen Aid mixer, for that matter.<br />
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I had to do it pioneer style with a wooden spoon (which I got a set of five for for a DOLLA at Doller Tree. Yah. Still reeling from that bargin).<br />
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Which let me just take a second to vent about the lady in <a href="http://allrecipes.com/video/1139/french-bread/detail.aspx?prop24=RD_RecipeVideo" target="_blank">this video,</a> who says, "Attach the dough-metal thingy to your Kitchen Aid mixer and turn on" like everyone has one just waiting on the counter.<br />
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FIRST of all, the KA standing mixer is coveted by every baker, ever. And actually a lot of other people who don't bake. They just want to be able to put it on their counter to gesture to, nonchalantly, when company is over and say, oh, that ole thing? And maybe throw some dough in there for a demonstration.<br />
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ALSO, they are FREAKING expensive. Close to $400. For a mixer. So, sorry Allrecipes, where I am for FREE recipes, I don't just have state-of-the-art mixing technology at my fingertips.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZB165R62qyqOEcYUrDng2-nRY5w2ZX4lQtL1rCF1m8c7FBZ08SsiPuuFwWM7S91sSvnomp31aLn8TfXyEoAkUymI_6aWMCKRYoFylwBU11uoTcmpIAHpBdAEZXZoSx7jApW7W4AsfDX4/s1600/Pioneer+cooking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZB165R62qyqOEcYUrDng2-nRY5w2ZX4lQtL1rCF1m8c7FBZ08SsiPuuFwWM7S91sSvnomp31aLn8TfXyEoAkUymI_6aWMCKRYoFylwBU11uoTcmpIAHpBdAEZXZoSx7jApW7W4AsfDX4/s320/Pioneer+cooking.jpg" style="-webkit-user-select: none;" width="320" /></a>So I had to Laura Ingalls the first two steps, upper-body strength style, and imitate what I hoped was what a dough-extension would do.<br />
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Which, as you can imagine, left lumps and something to be desired.<br />
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The second complication arose when my first ball of dough (making bread has more phases than the moon, each with its own rigorous rising schedule) looked like a brain. I re-watched the video. No brain. But that is okay, because whatever, I thought. I am throwing it in the oven, brain-resemblance or otherwise. Thankfully, the brains disappeared after BREAD PHASE 3.0 and only slightly resembled it when I began to roll out the second ball of dough (BREAD PHASE 5.0), but was squashed by my rolling pin, AKA a bottle of red wine. Yes, I know, but you use what you have, right?<br />
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ANYWAY, the result was crusty and delicious (although a slight sprinkle of salt was needed) and K and I devoured it. K probably because I was literally baking bread for 3 hours, and it was 9 O'clock.<br />
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Bread, GLORIOUS bread. Okay, I'm done now. <a href="http://allrecipes.com/recipe/french-bread/detail.aspx" target="_blank">Here</a> is the recipe if you are so inclined to try it yourself : )<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-63578909616781581672012-09-04T01:32:00.001-04:002012-09-04T01:32:25.646-04:00Just DEVOURED "A Discovery of Witches" by Deborah Harkness. Brilliant. Loved it. Go read it. I'm not linking to amazon, I'm not that kind of person, but seriously. It's SOO good.<br />
<img height="400" id="il_fi" src="http://media.oregonlive.com/books_impact/photo/witchesjpg-bc22b1201cae9829.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /><br />
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I got my library card, in case you didn't know. Which you probably don't because, really, who cares? WELL my friends, it just so happens that my new library has a online order button that is fast as lightening. And got this girl the latest in the RR Martin obsession two days after I requested it. TWO days. In Tampa, it took about 8 months to get a in-demand book. I'm livin' it up, here in the historical capitol of the state.<br />
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But I do wish that they would not brand both of the books with a little pink "fantasy" sticker. I mean, come on. It's got a freaking unicorn on it, for heaven's sake.<br />
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There wasn't a unicorn in "A Discovery", okay? And witchfire is not something to laugh at.<br />
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In other news, I found this on Pinterest, and it summed up exactly what happens to me every time I go to Target. Which has been pretty frequent.<br />
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As in daily.<br />
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I keep wondering if anyone ever looks through the security tapes and is like, HER? AGAIN? GOOD GOD!<br />
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<a href="http://media-cache0.pinterest.com/upload/197173289905808748_rrTbQCik_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pinned Image" border="0" id="pinCloseupImage" src="http://media-cache0.pinterest.com/upload/197173289905808748_rrTbQCik_c.jpg" /></a><br />
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You can imagine, I am sure, what K thinks, with the pink fantasy stickers and my daily trips to Target. But we do have nice curtains.<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-61361276539807064222012-08-31T00:04:00.002-04:002012-08-31T00:07:45.746-04:00I moved :)<br />
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And I'm in love. It's amazing here. I keep going outside just to feel the difference in the air, just to see the different trees and birds. It doesn't go above 80 most days, Fall is already in the air and I cannot WAIT to begin preparations with pumpkin spice candles and the like. In fact, confession, I splurged and bought one at Marshall's early. :D It's hiding in my cabinet above the stove, waiting for the first really cold day to bring it out.<br />
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<img alt="" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="226" data-width="223" height="226" id="rg_hi" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTPU-2FUln3Z8Ivt_tje2OvRFxqlquOdhWhI2DzjQ-qUlYTH0cr" style="height: 226px; width: 223px;" width="223" /><br />
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In all honesty, I was hunting for an inexpensive set of mixing bowls, since I don't own any, apparently. And I was wandering, as you do in Marshall's, when I saw they had their Yankee fall collection in and on the shelves. And we are talking newly minted and brought from wherever Yankee candles come from and find their way to discount stores everywhere. I felt, and you may roll your eyes but it's true, like I had come across my own little treasure trove. Right there in Marshall's, with adult contemporary music playing in the background.<br />
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A fellow shopper and I looked at each other, hardly able to believe our good fortune.<br />
"Wow," I said, breathlessly. "This is all their fall stuff. Their autumn collection."<br />
"I know," she said.<br />
"I found this one back there." She put down an obviously inadequate, off-brand orange candle, stuffing it behind some apple chips. "I had no idea about these."<br />
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This doesn't happen to me. I get the dregs of deals. I go last. I never go out on Black Friday, I don't cut coupons, I usually pay retail price.<br />
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I never get the creme of the crop selection of the Yankee Candle Fall Collection.<br />
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Let me explain really quickly why I got so excited. Yankee Candles are the best of the best. They have the best scents, the most subtle hints of flavor, the best burn.<br />
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They are the couture of candle lovers everywhere. And their pumpkin spice flavor, which I bought MORE THAN 50 PERCENT OFF, is their best.<br />
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So, in other obsessions, I live across the street from Target. Which is a problem.<br />
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<a href="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRNmtE8tp2071e0cW1JAUcTfARcyimASey0gqh4qr7tKOw_R7x-" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="181" data-width="279" height="259" id="rg_hi" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRNmtE8tp2071e0cW1JAUcTfARcyimASey0gqh4qr7tKOw_R7x-" width="400" /></a></div>
I have been there, no lie, every day. First, they have our favorite brand of wine( Rex Goliath) on sale there for $5.50. So, you know, gotta make sure we have that in our wine rack. Secondly, they have the best house-brand sour gummies I have ever had ever. Thirdly, it's, you know, Target. And full of things I need/want/we should have one of these, right?<br />
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AHHHH I need to stop going to Target. Although I did learn how to construct a bookcase because of their "it's on sale, assemble it yourself, you can do it!" attitude toward carpentry.<br />
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Yah, I shouldn't be a carpenter. Making a long, sad story (there were tears, I'm ashamed to say) short, you really must pay attention to which side is A and B. And, a word of the wise to all of you aspiring DIYs out there, you should definitely make sure the back part you hammer on is facing the right way before you hammer it on with 30 itty-bitty nails. And that it is being attached to the back, not the finished, colored front, before you do it.<br />
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I think it looks better without the siding now, anyway.<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-64161137130674702712012-08-15T23:37:00.000-04:002012-08-15T23:37:15.467-04:00So I just realized something.<br />
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I need to power watch as many Dawson's Creek Episodes (or AT LEAST to the season where the opening theme is "I don't wanna wait") as possible before Friday because 1.) I will have no internet connection for a while and who wants to be That Girl in the library and 2.) I'm thinking that it isn't going to be high on K's list of things to watch on Netflix.<br />
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I've got about 6 episodes to go. That's about 4.5 hours. This girl is on a mission.<br />
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And other productive things I do with my time since quitting my job.<br />
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Departure for VA is in less than two days, and I am loading up everything tomorrow night. Tonight, M was a doll and helped (read: forced) me to schlep my stuff to the dining room, right next to the door. (M has turned into kind of a gentle drill sergeant when it come to moving. I move two bins, begin to get a little sweaty, suggest we turn on a movie. She looks at me, and begins unplugging the lamps in my room. Silent, but effective.)<br />
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Right now, I am staring at a mountain of bins and random re-usable bags from Whole Foods and a random hamper full of kitchen supplies and wondering how it is all going to fit. Which is relaxing.<br />
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Tomorrow I have to deep-clean my bathroom (aren't you SO glad you stopped by?) and answer the ever-perplexing question of whether or not to bring the toilet brush.<br />
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Tune in next time for the conclusion of that exciting tale.<br />
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Mwah,<br />
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Moi.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-79604009704712507752012-08-14T02:31:00.000-04:002012-08-14T02:31:57.468-04:00Let's talk briefly about moving, which is what I am in the process of doing. For the last five days. With a few pool days/ sitting on the couch catching up on the BBC Sherlock (I'm cool like that) and discovering spotify. And sleeping. Quite a bit of sleeping.<br />
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Anyway, everyone always approaches moving with this notion that somehow all of the many miscellaneous pieces of life will fit in categorized bins organized based on their function.<br />
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This works for exactly two things: kitchen items and clothing. The rest of it---photos, thank you notes, usb cable connectors, wallflowers, candles, notebooks, jewelry boxes, calligraphy kits --where the freaking heck is it supposed to go? In an effort to be organized, I made several lists and found a Sharpie to label what goes where and is in what, but finally I just said forget it, I have no idea what bin this Barbie I got for my birthday last year as a joke but really would like to keep belongs in, and threw it all together, slapped the lid on and labeled it MISC.<br />
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I know that is going to be my favorite one to unpack.<br />
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Short recap of the last 3 months: I quit my job and I am moving to Va to be with my sweetie :) Which is really REALLY exciting, especially since I depart on FRIDAY. The ONE thing that is posing a little bit of a challenge is the fact that everything has to fit in the back of my father's pickup and my itty bitty gold Saturn, (BACK FROM THE DEAD!!), meaning no bed or furniture or anything resembling furniture.<br />
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<a href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcScqN9kTArJ8zaVj6ig4E8saa_kVljcyvW_1VNxU18NsYqQZO0i" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="rg_hi uh_hi" data-height="248" data-width="203" height="248" id="rg_hi" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcScqN9kTArJ8zaVj6ig4E8saa_kVljcyvW_1VNxU18NsYqQZO0i" style="height: 248px; width: 203px;" width="203" /></a>I'm envisioning a lot of pizza on the floor with candles (i'll take a picture and send it to Pinterest as a DATE NIGHT IDEA OMGGGG) or whatever you do when you have no furniture. Or TV. Or cable.<br />
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Probably mostly be uncomfortable, actually, I think.<br />
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Which is why I am already searching on Craigslist (Yes, I realize I blog a lot about my secondhand furniture searches but it really does take up a large portion of my life) for items. THING is, the nearest "metropolitan area" according to Craig, who is also apparently a higher-up at the Census Bureau, is about 45 mins away. So that could be tricky. Wish me luck. And pet-free sellers.<br />
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In other news, I am reading the history of the world. In a variety of forms by a variety of different historians.<br />
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One thing I've noticed is that we all sort of accept historians on their word, which, since their works are often based on lifetimes of research and study, is a fair thing to do. BUT they all have their own agendas. They pick their favorite historical figure or era, and they want to make it your favorite too. One man's Arnold Schwarzenegger is another man's King Richard.<br />
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" 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I really love history. I hated people in school who would roll their eyes and sigh whenever the subject of history came up or was brushed on at all. Like history is boring. You know what is tedious? Vera Bradley handbags. You know what isn't? Lewis and Clarke.<br />
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The reason I'm being all pretentious is because my kindle broke (again :( ) and I am stuck 86 percent of the way through Game of Thrones book 4. I'm ruined for fiction right now. I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO THE REST OF EDDARD's family.<br />
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ANYWAY, that's what has been going on here. Tomorrow, I tackle my trunk, which hasn't been cleaned out for probably 18 months. I'll let you know how it goes. :)<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-61600818122001531022012-05-14T22:59:00.001-04:002012-05-14T23:01:08.172-04:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">OMG. </span><br />
So I baked the most incredible Reese's cake of my life the other day. It was seriously amazing. The recipe is found on the<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/pamelawynne/3598204651/" target="_blank"> flickr page of this genius </a>and replicated below (with my notes, of course):<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">CAKE: </span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It really doesn't matter. I went against my own creed (because it was 9 p.m. on a Tuesday) and made it with Pillsbury box mix. The cake itself is NOT the main event.</span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">FILLING:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">8oz semi-sweet chocolate, roughly chopped<i> (chocolate chips worked great)</i><br />8oz heavy cream<br />1/2 cup creamy peanut butter <i>(choosey moms choose Jiffs)</i><br />1/2 cup Reese's peanut butter cups, roughly chopped <i>(those little baby ones were perfect, and super cute for decorating)</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Heat the cream until it just begins to boil <i>(be careful, because it starts to foam and go EVERYWHERE).</i> Pour it over the chocolate in a medium bowl. Whisk until it melts, then whisk in the peanut butter. Set aside 1/4 of the filling for the first layer of frosting. Cool the other 3/4 completely, then gently stir in the peanut butter cups.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">FROSTING:<i> (OMG THIS IS THE BEST PART. My only suggestion would be to double it, because I didn't feel like I had enough</i>)<br />1/2 cup creamy peanut butter<br />1/2 cup butter, at room temperature<br />2 tsp vanilla extract<br />2 cups powdered sugar</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Cream together the butter and peanut butter until they are fully combined and kind of fluffy. Add the vanilla, then stir in the sugar.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">ASSEMBLY:<br />Place one 9-inch round on a cake stand or plate. Cover the top in the peanut butter fudge filling. Place the second 9-inch round on top. Using the reserved filling, spread a thin layer on the outside of the cake. Refrigerate until the fudge is set and firm to the touch.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Slather the whole thing in the peanut butter frosting. Decorate with peanut butter cups.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">So I would have taken a picture of it, but it isn't pretty any more, because, turns out, when you hack off the side of it with a spoon every evening standing in your kitchen because you don't want to commit to the fact that you are eating a hearty slice of peanut butter cake every evening a pretty picture it does not make. On several levels.</span></div>
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On a related note, I wish I had more time to bake. I really love it. I am seriously coveting the entire set of Martha Stewart baking tools, which are all brightly colored but tasteful and functional yet fun and WANT IT ALL:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So the hosts you are bringing your DELICIOUS cupcakes to aren't appalled when you bring them cupcakes with frosting all OVER the freaking place</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5A1AotaMct_jk05DPuTlblN2lwxntCUg5G9FF7gTfeJGV1hiS4Mk_p0EdNdF4y-fVSMcFtHD8tOxmrMknqtpOmbH5K9TKA49XNam-ZL-ACuO5O4d9VSaZwgO0j3c2XZT1fgC07bJwyEfN/s1600/840625_fpx.tif.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5A1AotaMct_jk05DPuTlblN2lwxntCUg5G9FF7gTfeJGV1hiS4Mk_p0EdNdF4y-fVSMcFtHD8tOxmrMknqtpOmbH5K9TKA49XNam-ZL-ACuO5O4d9VSaZwgO0j3c2XZT1fgC07bJwyEfN/s320/840625_fpx.tif.jpeg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So your cookies aren't a FREAKING mess </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://slimages.macys.com/is/image/MCY/products/6/optimized/1092546_fpx.tif?$filtermed$&wid=164" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Martha Stewart Collection Covered Mixing Bowls, Set of 3 Stainless Steel" border="0" class="thumbnailImage crossfadeImage thumbnailMainImage" height="400" id="image_643497_37_cat" name="CATimage" src="http://slimages.macys.com/is/image/MCY/products/6/optimized/1092546_fpx.tif?$filtermed$&wid=164" style="height: 201px; width: 164px;" title="Martha Stewart Collection Covered Mixing Bowls, Set of 3 Stainless Steel" width="326" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">COVERED mixing bowls. For when you don't want all 18 pounds of cookie dough all at once.</td></tr>
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I feel like an ad for Martha Stewart. Which I guess I sort of am. In that I aspire to her, not that I think she would would particularly want me to endorse or represent her brand (see above: eating peanut butter cake in the kitchen).</div>
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Anyway. I wish I could bake more, had the time, and when I had the time had the energy, and when I had the energy had the money (supplies can get pretty expensive, especially if you are making them from scratch! Butter, seriously, makes things DELICIOUS and is almost $4 a pound). And the green grass grows all around all around. </div>
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My shouting bird has been replaced by a barking frog, btw. I didn't realize that there was a downgrade from a shouting bird (or maybe nature thinks it's an upgrade?) but he is serious about communicating something to some jungle creature out there and he likes to do it RIIIGGGHT as I am falling asleep. </div>
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I'm not even going to try to describe what this barking frog sounds like, because you are probably thinking "Oh, is she in the rainforest? Or some other similarly tropical place with a pier 1 and exotic, noisy creatures?" and the answer is NO I am not, the most exotic thing we have is a mutt upstairs named dodger but the FROGS ARE SO FREAKING ANNOYING I'm getting pretty worked up about it and exaggerating. </div>
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Taking a deep breath, and coming around to the pin of the 15th day (Sounds like a Harry Potter title)</div>
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<img alt="Beehive Cake (Brown-Butter Banana Cake and Honey Butter cream)" class="PinImageImg" data-id="6544361928946179" data-src="http://media-cache1.pinterest.com/upload/6544361928946179_PVSAJUEW_b.jpg" height="640" src="http://media-cache1.pinterest.com/upload/6544361928946179_PVSAJUEW_b.jpg" style="opacity: 1;" width="426" /></div>
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SO cute. I will make some day.</div>
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MWAH,</div>
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Moi.</div>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-72823973586309587792012-05-01T23:21:00.001-04:002012-05-01T23:21:17.830-04:00I want to talk for a moment about lightening bugs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU4MmVlSC_eZjLSMv4LZ0Rsel9Ga6m37iR2Qm2ElC6oKu_sI1-A9HtTBJgWR33nuNMPFhREy6G9A7t3nQjCacZZwSfTBMiAg_1BW2egNt2jJwduS9ozfjH0UnDAMtfXT1hHWwIyQyZsw2C/s1600/grave_fireflies_bluebat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU4MmVlSC_eZjLSMv4LZ0Rsel9Ga6m37iR2Qm2ElC6oKu_sI1-A9HtTBJgWR33nuNMPFhREy6G9A7t3nQjCacZZwSfTBMiAg_1BW2egNt2jJwduS9ozfjH0UnDAMtfXT1hHWwIyQyZsw2C/s400/grave_fireflies_bluebat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Is there anything more fabulous? What a wonderful notion--I'm lighting a beacon, come find me.<br />
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I know, I KNOW, it's technically their little buggy bums lighting up because they want to make little baby lightening bugs. But for the sake of poetry and sentiment, let's just go with the metaphor.<br />
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Speaking of beacons, I have always been completely enchanted by lighthouses. There is a part of me that wants to live in one.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvaM1RM6wVd5Ux6mi5sbgc5Dan-c2KrzOFmtomddKYueqORUtpdu4ZVymxWvOt4c_8DSTPcQuHDNDDsAkxN4fUYpnDvi1SwQpXZBGcQAyxVk5wvGW1HHKwEzpZT7fLYsrNQ99WJ04004bq/s1600/lighthouse4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvaM1RM6wVd5Ux6mi5sbgc5Dan-c2KrzOFmtomddKYueqORUtpdu4ZVymxWvOt4c_8DSTPcQuHDNDDsAkxN4fUYpnDvi1SwQpXZBGcQAyxVk5wvGW1HHKwEzpZT7fLYsrNQ99WJ04004bq/s400/lighthouse4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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There would be a warm, cozy kitchen that overlooked the sea, a loft to sleep (none of this extra house BS) and, of course, the long, winding staircase to the top of the world.<br />
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It would be a life covered in salt spray and storms, I would live on hot, briny soups and warm bread and would polish the beautiful glass panes every day, making sure our light shone pure and clear, warning away ships from the treacherous cliffs.<br />
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Oh, right, I've never thought about this at all, never, no way.<br />
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But the technicalities--how do get things like dishwasher detergent, for example, or if a girl fancied herself a new sundress and a Corona Light-- would get in the way pretty quickly, I think.<br />
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I love science, speaking of technicalities, and going back to our lightening bugs. I think there is actually a lot of romance in science-- I'm more of an art mimics life kind of gal. I think the masterpieces we create, the love stories we write: these are our own interpretation of the world around us. But we like to eliminate the rough edges, turn our bit of colored shard into sea glass--softer, more beautiful. I think sometimes, like when trying to comprehend the universe, we can't do it. We need a mixer, ear plugs, a dilutions.<br />
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Those who stare straight at the sun go blind.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7Sv6XvPOaQ_eaYhNxT8OSfgoXiEl3CqplMuzdT-WBEGpOFkPASLkp1BN566dWPcc8YlHDdArmXyYe26uNBDtvEzUsbpqcjF92nwT09pjOtRqhEBzguibJXj7_cYuCmg9vMRTy9U7tSr2/s1600/Galaxy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7Sv6XvPOaQ_eaYhNxT8OSfgoXiEl3CqplMuzdT-WBEGpOFkPASLkp1BN566dWPcc8YlHDdArmXyYe26uNBDtvEzUsbpqcjF92nwT09pjOtRqhEBzguibJXj7_cYuCmg9vMRTy9U7tSr2/s400/Galaxy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AAHH that is reallll. Makes spilled milk seem PRETTY pointless.</td></tr>
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But the best books walk that thin line between the hard truth and the foggy land of a dreamer--which, I really feel, represents reality.<br />
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I'm done waxxing poetic, I promise (which, what the freaking heck does that mean?). It's been a dreamy weekend-- I spent it on a porch staring off into space, which I highly recommend to anyone and everyone. Watching birds sing and the wind through the trees is good for your soul.<br />
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Now, there are frogs making love outside my window, which is less poetic and not good for my soul at all. I'm in search of a good, thick pillow: wish me luck.<br />
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Pin of the, um, week? It's good enough for seven days, I think :)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QOuStg92154Pj_Qa_6VGIIlVIIj5a88KO-rFs9oOMmaDVtbuQnm5jqdGEHoaRs94MRQvTL3zqI57PVbcnSQrygob1YE-eGmbIHFpHGgmxrcUDAEv9rZqYSuuViMzReXIdw8l457_eSdb/s1600/202239839486843772_SyGfd75V_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QOuStg92154Pj_Qa_6VGIIlVIIj5a88KO-rFs9oOMmaDVtbuQnm5jqdGEHoaRs94MRQvTL3zqI57PVbcnSQrygob1YE-eGmbIHFpHGgmxrcUDAEv9rZqYSuuViMzReXIdw8l457_eSdb/s640/202239839486843772_SyGfd75V_f.jpg" width="472" /></a></div>
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-42278701046299841542012-04-23T00:50:00.001-04:002012-04-23T00:50:13.716-04:00I'm feeling drunk on bluegrass right now. There is something about the harmonies, the twang, the taste and the heart of it that is good for my soul, wakes something up in my blood.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr4scwO7VXuVCJ6Q5mBEfrdA6yOg5N7av4k51fTtkN4EiLiG_JhWam-ofn7oxqg_MHRm5IJcIZWYdpGhJT9GGFbZCYv_Z1BDXm07IlM4WSItM55GUYhGV7VFN_4zIvRsyuUWd4aEVrobhB/s1600/bluegrass+101+068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr4scwO7VXuVCJ6Q5mBEfrdA6yOg5N7av4k51fTtkN4EiLiG_JhWam-ofn7oxqg_MHRm5IJcIZWYdpGhJT9GGFbZCYv_Z1BDXm07IlM4WSItM55GUYhGV7VFN_4zIvRsyuUWd4aEVrobhB/s320/bluegrass+101+068.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Bluegrass often gets mislabeled, I think, in the popular mind. It is thought of as backwoods/hick/up-a-crick music. Banjoes are picked by toothless, shirtless paws on a porch a la Country Bear Jamboree , spitting tobaccy and blowing on an empty 'shine jug.<br />
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For those unfamiliar with how beautiful it can be, the opening riff of a bluegrass song can make them wince and look at you with a "you have 10 seconds to turn that off or I am leaving the room/pretending I don't know you/never riding in your car again".<br />
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Of course I'n not speaking from personal experience.<br />
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In reality, bluegrass holds some of the last true artistry in any music genre. You can't autotune a fiddle. Harmonies can't be faked. The timing necessary to launch a chorus that gives the listener goosebumps can't happen unless everyone knows what they are doing.<br />
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Alison Krauss & Union Station is probably my favorite group ever: try it. I think you'll be surprised.<br />
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Oh, so I've FINALLY finished book two of Game of Thrones (hereby going to be shortened to GOT). This is a big accomplishment, since I purchased it in late December, broke my Kindle for four months, and then got it replaced (for FREE! YAY amazon!) at the beginning of this month. So I have had this book in the back of my mind for a long time, and I'm glad to have finished it.<br />
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<a href="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQQQEqCFankAj1O3jCKREClORumNL68V1Y32lzbDFBUZvsjtCyGBA" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="rg_hi" data-height="225" data-width="225" height="225" id="rg_hi" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQQQEqCFankAj1O3jCKREClORumNL68V1Y32lzbDFBUZvsjtCyGBA" style="height: 225px; width: 225px;" width="225" /></a></div>
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Confession: I get this weird (THAT is a hard word to spell after midnight) sort of satisfaction after I've read a book. It's a conquest. I award points to myself based on how fun it was to read and level of literary clout.<br />
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According to my Kindle, I am 75 percent of the way through Moby Dick OR The White Whale. (AP style= put those in quotes. MLA style = italicize. I'm at a loss.) NOW the decision is do I pick up the NEXT installment in GOT, or do I eat my veggies and see if Ahab ever gets that blasted whale? Tune in next week for the answer to that cliffhanger!<br />
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Speaking of cliffhangers, we've decided to watch 24 as roommates. We get all the seasons on Netflix, and it was the only one we could all agree on.<br />
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AND OMG.<br />
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K and I used to watch it together all the time when he was in town, but I've only seen one or two seasons and we've started with season 2, which I've never seen. I forgot why I stopped watching and have since remembered.<br />
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I wake up thinking someone is going to kill me.<br />
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No lie. Sit straight up in bed, panicked. Certain someone has woken me up. If I had a dagger, I would be clutching it.<br />
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M said the same thing used to happen to her too. Which makes me wonder sort of why I keep watching...right? But M and I came to the same conclusion about that one, too.<br />
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So I found this pin and it was supposed to be a super cute (and STUPID) way to reuse a slinky but I am obsessed with the bird. He is one of my favorite things about today, and, incidentally, your pin of the every-third-day.<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-37454561033146206772012-04-19T23:54:00.002-04:002012-04-19T23:54:55.882-04:00Today:<br />
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M and I rediscovered the Cosby show, played a game that ended in us picking a color for our wall and learned that the guy who sings that " weeee arrrreee yoouuunnnggggg" song is REALLY weird looking.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZVNIF7PlLjgCp_HZxWpVQ68ptKkJ6nO436BdmV82_uP9BlOFwf_1naCDhvUAkhou9JIhP98WboedmoMypV19Z6_UOnTH_8WQnR0a-VGBIhV8tPxH17P2pzTRZ1dk7dVE4HfKjNtuG_z4D/s1600/fun-we-are-young-video.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZVNIF7PlLjgCp_HZxWpVQ68ptKkJ6nO436BdmV82_uP9BlOFwf_1naCDhvUAkhou9JIhP98WboedmoMypV19Z6_UOnTH_8WQnR0a-VGBIhV8tPxH17P2pzTRZ1dk7dVE4HfKjNtuG_z4D/s320/fun-we-are-young-video.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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All in all, a productive night.<br />
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On the subject of pinning, since I began pinning (which was right when it was cool and before it became the ONLY cool thing to do) I have always enjoyed re-pinning other pins, but wanted to FIND my own pins. I'm an individual like that.<br />
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But I never knew where to pin from. I didn't have an amazing collection of super hip and beautiful blogs with tea lights and dangly things and perfect outfits and exotic pools etc. that I checked every day. And then it occurred to me. I NEED TO.<br />
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So I'm following links like crazy and finding some AMAZING sites with some really amazing things. There are so many crazy people in the world and so many stupid people in the world and so many mean people in the world that get all the attention that you forget about all the creative, sweet, funny people creating collections of beautiful things.<br />
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I'm on a mission to remember them. I'll keep you posted (POSTED, GET IT?) on my progress. Below is a beauty aggregated on a random tumblr. Gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe.<br />
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<a class="PinImage ImgLink" href="http://lostandfoundbailee.tumblr.com/" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: #f2f0f0; color: #221919; display: block; font-family: 'helvetica neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; position: relative; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><img alt="So perfect." class="PinImageImg" src="http://media-cache3.pinterest.com/upload/90001692523502429_PKx3C04X_f.jpg" style="-webkit-transition-delay: initial; -webkit-transition-duration: 0.22s; -webkit-transition-property: all; -webkit-transition-timing-function: ease-out; background-color: #f2f0f0; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; max-width: none; min-height: 75px; opacity: 1;" /></a></div>
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Today I learned a new song, too. Well I knew the song but I didn't know who sang it but M did and shared her lurrrve for it with me. I'm posting it in case you are inclined. Get past the beginning, my non-indie-music-lovers and you'll be okay :)<br />
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MWAH<br />
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Moi.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-15657769515741517462012-04-17T00:34:00.001-04:002012-04-17T00:44:28.866-04:00Let's take a moment to appreciate Mary Poppins' Bert. I've included the one with subtitles, for your sing-along pleasure.<br />
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Look at 'is face. Bloomin' precious. I've had Chim Chim Cheer-ee stuck in my head for like, two weeks and I'm honestly happy about it. Cannot say the same for "Owner of a Broken Heart" and that latest weepy dreck from Bruno Mars, which have also been making appearances.<br />
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I have decided that I would like to tour the rooftops of London on a foggy, cold evening. Preferably with Bert, who, I admit, I may have a little bit of a crush on. Ah, London. And England. The rich green countryside full of history, the smoky streets and thick accents of pub owners and bar keeps and constables and scallywags. So I may be off a few hundred years--but I still imagine that London must be full of characters just waiting to be put into a novel. And I would LOVE to meet them.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ha ha what is he looking for, you think?</td></tr>
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On a side note, I realized recently that I never have enough time to read. I want to read so many things: I want to re-learn all the amazing history I devoured and now can't remember the details about. I want to read books that make me never want to stop reading. I want to read how-to books and annotated Shakespeare and Infinite Jest and everything Faulkner wrote and all the Dickens I never read and re-read everything I love and anything by David McCullough and the Corrections by Franzen and try to understand Hemingway and Oh My GOSH don't get me started on the poetry I don't know. And I want to FINISH Game of Thrones, GOOD LORD. </div>
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Where do we find hours in the day ? If I was Pippa, that is what I would be doing with my endless free time, money and AMAZING locations to select from to curl up with a book. I'm not sure what she's gotten herself into <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/royal-wedding-watch/post/pippa-middleton-at-center-of-gun-scandal/2012/04/16/gIQAK5xXLT_blog.html?tid=pm_lifestyle_pop">now</a>, but I am sure it wouldn't have happened if she was reading Elizabeth Barrett Browning in a turret. I'm JUST saying.</div>
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Oh! Okay, so I have this amazing story to tell you. I need to tell you because otherwise I will forget and it's too wonderful to forget. </div>
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So on Saturday, I was driving down a very busy road with L and M going to the bridal shower of a close friend (Weddings! I love weddings! Drinks all around!) and I saw a cluster of traffic on the opposite side of the median. It was about 10 cars or so, just stopped dead. I peered over L's shoulder (I was shotgun) to see why and then screamed in her ear "GEESE! IT'S GEESE!"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsf0v5Vqvq4RnBgDtzY0NuUT5JUVCtrem4BovDi_dOZ38g85HZktZ8OBAOVOtda56qXuO3b80ANffUbltjUe3fB4TkfK1aooZ7E8LzNUCO5kmmgdkPDANUPEBoe_l5ky2z-IsUKuxldyki/s1600/baby+geese.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsf0v5Vqvq4RnBgDtzY0NuUT5JUVCtrem4BovDi_dOZ38g85HZktZ8OBAOVOtda56qXuO3b80ANffUbltjUe3fB4TkfK1aooZ7E8LzNUCO5kmmgdkPDANUPEBoe_l5ky2z-IsUKuxldyki/s320/baby+geese.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I kid you not, a mama goose and a daddy goose and about 10 little goslings were attempting to cross 6 lanes of traffic and, God bless them, the good people of this city were letting them. Completely stopped in the middle of the road. Waiting for this sweet little family to get to safety. Which they apparently thought was in the parking lot of the Publix across the street, but who's to say what makes a home. Not I. </div>
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Sometimes I adore people. And the sweet geese, who, even though they could fly, were staying with their little babies. And you can talk to me all you want about protective instinct and carrying on the geesey line but I mean, by cold calculating bird standards, they probably could have flown away and made new babies. But they didn't. The entire thing, happening in the bright sunshine on a perfect Saturday afternoon, made me happy to be alive. </div>
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Okay. I'm officially up too late. Here is your Pin of the Day (or every other day, or every third day)</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZCeH30VGEubndFDJ4JQdkHXkT4Jq1-7U-mF0fIYsLy9ZpxfzKgWkCgNj2UPIoDt1tq_rUug53p4dnMMeVN6rpFpVRgaRN_XMzZFSdV_uqlqcpdUielM16MK8zJLoAD3r1EqIWVC9uYyi/s1600/133489576425224349_kXUuu3O9_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZCeH30VGEubndFDJ4JQdkHXkT4Jq1-7U-mF0fIYsLy9ZpxfzKgWkCgNj2UPIoDt1tq_rUug53p4dnMMeVN6rpFpVRgaRN_XMzZFSdV_uqlqcpdUielM16MK8zJLoAD3r1EqIWVC9uYyi/s640/133489576425224349_kXUuu3O9_f.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I yearn for the sea. Courtesy of t<a href="http://bit.ly/HP05ig">his pinner</a>.<br />
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Alright loves. I'm out.<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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Moi.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-43355741053187011562012-04-13T23:22:00.001-04:002012-04-13T23:37:29.592-04:00OH FRIDAY.<br />
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Thank God. </div>
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You know that movie "His Girl Friday?" </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've heard of it, DUH. And I like her implied sass. But I've never seen it. Not even going to pretend to stay in good hipster graces.</td></tr>
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Yah me neither. BUT I think that Friday would be a good name for a cat. I'm just saying.</div>
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Oh and also, you know that song "Working for the Weekend?"</div>
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I used to think it meant that people had to work on the weekend, and, as a young, misinformed adolescent, I felt the tune was a little peppy for such a somber subject. And I truly didn't understand what sort of job these people had that they would work for the weekend. It was a job force that I certainly did not want to be involved with. School had taught me that the weekend was YOURS. You figure that out pretty much as soon as school ceased to be kindergarten and started to SUCK.</div>
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I think I figured out the meaning of the song like, last year. The same time I figured out how to pronounce vehemently ( It's vee-ha-ment-ly, by the way. I said it va-hem-ent-ly for most of my life). My extensive vocabulary skills fail to impress people when I sound like an idiot. Or C3PO.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HOW do you pronounce wizened?</td></tr>
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I got an espresso machine for my birthday. Which is AWESOME. I haven't gotten a chance to use it yet (no time in the a.m., which seems sad) but M and I will sometimes go stare at in in anticipation. We were treated to lattes and frothays and breves and all sorts of delicious espresso-y things when we visited my parents in their country home about a month ago. Let me tell you. A girl could get used to that.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0op9h0YyoTRqPbZtVJmZiXhm_S70K82upA1S0_iM2vZ-Hmj3LIgGRDPFRrJRr030VDkTSx6eOFPBpvgeqjhi-GbU1bnnQHAjpa8W81oxGKYTdHagz6nfFmqZ667jNeJqLpUg5K_xDQOLv/s1600/espresso-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0op9h0YyoTRqPbZtVJmZiXhm_S70K82upA1S0_iM2vZ-Hmj3LIgGRDPFRrJRr030VDkTSx6eOFPBpvgeqjhi-GbU1bnnQHAjpa8W81oxGKYTdHagz6nfFmqZ667jNeJqLpUg5K_xDQOLv/s320/espresso-web.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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M was all about it. I had it sitting in a box on the counter when I first got it earlier this week. She came back from work and we were talking about something (probably planning the BBQ or sconce placement, like we do) and she stopped short, pointed and just looked at me, gleeful.<br />
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J, on the other hand, is pretty scared. He came to visit after espresso number three. We promised it wouldn't be the same as when we trapped him in a car driving to look at organic soy candles, boutique cheeses and crocheted tops with 1000000000mg of caffeine coursing through our veins, but he still looks at it sideways. </div>
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OH so we are throwing ourselves a birthday party tomorrow by the pool (I'm the 9th and J is the 11th and M is like LET THEM EAT CAKE!) and I'm getting pretty revved up. I'm going to make a playlist, which means I'm happy. I LOVE making playlists. I used to be OBNOXIOUS and burn a CD every time I got in a car. L has literally 100 CDs I made for her for special occasions like Going to the Grocery Store or Going to the Mall or It's Raining. Sometimes I would write it in French, because I'm sophisticated like that. </div>
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THE POINT IS, and apparently I can't focus to save my life today (actually I probably could to save my life), I am excited because I am going to put all of my feel-good songs on there. The ones that make you feel like summertime. Some Bob Marley. Some Colbie Calliat. Some Jack Johnson. That guy who sings about the sound of sunshine. </div>
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Not girly at all. Totally appropriate for a shared, co-ed birthday. </div>
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Okay, okay, I'll throw some Styx in there. Some COME SAIL AWAY COME SAIL AWAY COME SAAAAIIILLL AWAY WITH MEEEEEE to make sure everyone is able to rock out. </div>
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I'm going to go try to get that song out of my head and read Game of Thrones (because I am cool and trendy).</div>
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Oh! Here is the Pin of the Day (I get that I haven't posted in more than a week, WHATEVER). This is the inspiration for a novel I'm going to write. </div>
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<a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/96757091964451206/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="600" src="http://media-cache5.pinterest.com/upload/96757091964451206_pQdWgkKs_c.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
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Source: <a href="http://nedhardy.com/2011/12/02/another-random-collection-of-awesome-things-2/" style="color: #76838b; font-size: 10px; text-decoration: underline;">nedhardy.com</a> via <a href="http://pinterest.com/adamjscott/" style="color: #76838b; font-size: 10px; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank">Adam</a> on <a href="http://pinterest.com/" style="color: #76838b; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank">Pinterest</a></div>
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MWAH,</div>
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moi</div>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-70338740116732995082012-03-28T22:31:00.003-04:002012-03-28T22:34:07.945-04:00Revenge, James Bond and triple chocolate<div>
Let's appreciate for a moment how awesome Emily VanCamp is. I'm working on perfecting her REVENGE stare. I think I'll try it out at work tomorrow when someone makes me angry.</div>
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AHAHAH I'll let you know how it goes, since I have difficulty confronting a BUG in my house, let alone glaring at someone with...whatever is going on there. </div>
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I'm scared of her, and want to be her best friend.</div>
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I'm in Revenge withdrawal, in case you couldn't tell. </div>
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It hasn't been on in forever. It's getting to the point where the plot lines are getting fuzzy. Which is bad, because if you miss literally TWO seconds -- to, for example, answer an impromptu call from a relative -- you are left wondering what the FREAKING heck happened for the rest of the episode. </div>
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And it's rude to say, hey, sorry, we can't catch up right now, I need to figure out why Tyler just handed Nolan that envelope and WHO WAS IT ADDRESSED TO? DAMN IT.</div>
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That's not good for family business. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Up-KjQuPUOSRcnvqAS8txUhitqgtm1Dbmmc9gPrE9eG6zWkmzH3N1aLZBUa2aY9xerX3NLH_Pw0NN8dXjNDrdm9Zoo85VHXfXSCCC_sfCxnfxXryovVM9b7WPXx_WLm9fKyRgOhwrtWB/s1600/godfather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Up-KjQuPUOSRcnvqAS8txUhitqgtm1Dbmmc9gPrE9eG6zWkmzH3N1aLZBUa2aY9xerX3NLH_Pw0NN8dXjNDrdm9Zoo85VHXfXSCCC_sfCxnfxXryovVM9b7WPXx_WLm9fKyRgOhwrtWB/s320/godfather.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Anyway, the point is that I can't really remember what happened last episode now because ABC is dragging their feet with the finale. I'm sure this show with Ashley Judd running around looking like a mess and screaming her son's name for, going by the trailer, approximately 11 times an episode is REALLY good but I am ready for the witty banter and the OMG she did what and the general, sticky soap opera-ness of it all to return.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KyWkSewImQti88zpWTA6yb5_s41j4CFtZqmSEdWamP0Y_np_8eNtCEGXypR0m7IlAVb7cjyr3Aa2hv9wh6BfoDPIMPot3-r0ddGc5qVNUApy1sGqdinImATpBeQwjjx75dB18iX52p3f/s1600/Downton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KyWkSewImQti88zpWTA6yb5_s41j4CFtZqmSEdWamP0Y_np_8eNtCEGXypR0m7IlAVb7cjyr3Aa2hv9wh6BfoDPIMPot3-r0ddGc5qVNUApy1sGqdinImATpBeQwjjx75dB18iX52p3f/s320/Downton.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at how fabulous. I'm sorry. They are.</td></tr>
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Plus, I don't have Downton Abbey anymore to make me not care about anything but Mary and Matthew and precious Lord Grantham and the antics of those darling and yet compelling servants downstairs. </div>
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And now I miss Downton. Great.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Okay, I'm done being obsessed with popular culture and TV shows that are rotting my brain. (Grey's tomorrow, yay! What will happen with Christina and that red haired doctor she's married to?)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Anyway, I'm in the process of moving, which sucks and is awesome at the same time. I heard once that the three hardest things in life were moving, death and divorce. </div>
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The two D's, I totally get. </div>
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But moving? Really? That's like saying the best things in life are love, family, and a day at the beach.</div>
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What? </div>
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Who makes this up?</div>
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ANYWAY we (my roomates J and M and I) found a couch on Craigslist for $100 in perfect condition. And patio furniture for $50. </div>
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But Craigslist has always sort of sketched me out (things like murderers luring young women with enticingly priced, Pinable objects will do that) and M was signing her full name to "I'm interested emails" and I got very concerned and started composing the emails for her, using only her initial. Which I thought was a good idea because </div>
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a) It was sneaky and would throw a killer off the scent</div>
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b) Bond's M, duh</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGjy9Dj8kxh-t9JmHlN4v4YnLcx_exiD-nIwqdAqkr34aa_O9L-GmQtRJe5UmI2nQ4ZOQpMnGEVhLEhcdNVzJDCLBmMiYO34_tX7TbQM1zvNkgO5cvMJAnmpeFC4dDgXNpZOqP8ci0glZU/s1600/Dame-Judi-Dench.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGjy9Dj8kxh-t9JmHlN4v4YnLcx_exiD-nIwqdAqkr34aa_O9L-GmQtRJe5UmI2nQ4ZOQpMnGEVhLEhcdNVzJDCLBmMiYO34_tX7TbQM1zvNkgO5cvMJAnmpeFC4dDgXNpZOqP8ci0glZU/s320/Dame-Judi-Dench.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'm just saying. You can never be too careful. </div>
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Doesn't matter if it's a sweet lady who contributes regularly to the university and has two houses and a perfect, never been used couch for a bargain. You NEVER KNOW.</div>
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<div>
Time for me to eat a jello pudding and read my kindle. The thrilling, glittery life of a young professional. (Seriously though, Game of Thrones. And triple chocolate. And maybe a handful of white chocolate chips I discovered yesterday.)</div>
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<div>
But before all that:</div>
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Pin of the day ( this is a new thing I have started doing, and I think I will remember to do it tomorrow)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMS7ZW-2yyjkz5AKm3JHfpbDVvF8sztWGyATuRmEL7djJRnrxZPfFaGeLbhN_xVfSlzBz0ShCI73-Fqberga6cfyKxVpZYyXw1qhVhOnFTtLKMkjPBwZA_AfhaNYxPe8CE-zjtyNovWI5h/s1600/hawii.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMS7ZW-2yyjkz5AKm3JHfpbDVvF8sztWGyATuRmEL7djJRnrxZPfFaGeLbhN_xVfSlzBz0ShCI73-Fqberga6cfyKxVpZYyXw1qhVhOnFTtLKMkjPBwZA_AfhaNYxPe8CE-zjtyNovWI5h/s640/hawii.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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Going there in my dreams. Until shouting bird wakes me up.</div>
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MWAH,</div>
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MOi</div>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7225130214262402955.post-44299518749042621572012-03-27T23:55:00.002-04:002012-03-27T23:56:30.889-04:00SPRINGIt's about time.<br />
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I think February was actually cloudy for the ENTIRETY of the month. All 29 freaking days.<br />
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And then, all of a sudden, Spring. It really did arrive overnight. And the weather has been perfect.<br />
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It's sit on the porch with wine weather. Look up at the sky and sigh with happiness weather. Lay by the pool with an iced tea weather.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTPZcLqHbaeRqQ21tijakqWiX1D9y_yAZr7tgnixldTk9aEkFrL9RZa3D9nkTc34QDK_AWekV1nuV64NOiVzV1QeJwxRwNyOoIUmbpzdo8AOyKfiD4AYncgeD5c6lu635a9WAT96KSUW1b/s1600/spring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTPZcLqHbaeRqQ21tijakqWiX1D9y_yAZr7tgnixldTk9aEkFrL9RZa3D9nkTc34QDK_AWekV1nuV64NOiVzV1QeJwxRwNyOoIUmbpzdo8AOyKfiD4AYncgeD5c6lu635a9WAT96KSUW1b/s400/spring.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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There is this bird, though, that wakes up every morning at exactly 7 a.m. and tweets his little heart out (more than 140 characters, I assure you) for 45 minutes. It's the equivalent of bird shouting. I can't tell if I think it's sweet or annoying. Sort of a combination of the two.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFmVYA3H_u0gS92TFwuOnji8vMJG4O4mW2ySb9MVzK2c5kETurggamg3b0IIYyGdjnKI7ux5YUozcUwNgRkLnqfEeHBNCHAB91OqAB5lAB8E1ETuyLTCB35JA8Xb31Yrs9p3U3RHWMjVi/s1600/bird-singing1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFmVYA3H_u0gS92TFwuOnji8vMJG4O4mW2ySb9MVzK2c5kETurggamg3b0IIYyGdjnKI7ux5YUozcUwNgRkLnqfEeHBNCHAB91OqAB5lAB8E1ETuyLTCB35JA8Xb31Yrs9p3U3RHWMjVi/s320/bird-singing1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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But he's joyous, sounds like. Young, hopeful, full of love and ready to find true love and make a nest. Which really doesn't make him much different from a 20-something girl, really.<br />
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I'm lucky enough that the place I live EXPLODES into bloom every year. Despite the pollen, which is covering everything with an enormous green blanket, everyone is usually pretty happy about it. We all pop Clariton like Pez and say what a wonderful, difficult to breathe in world it is.<br />
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Yesterday I was at the gas station and decided that, for once in my life, I was going to use the weird window cleanser with the gross cloth-type thing on one end and the squeigy on the other and clean my windows, which were getting difficult to see through.<br />
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Ignoring the fact that the cleaner smelled like horses (what?) and squigy-ing (I have no idea how to spell that word) hurts your arms by window four (or maybe I'm just a weenie), I cleaned those dang windows until they sparkled. Until they dried.<br />
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Now it looks like a deranged person grabbed a wet cloth and slapped it all over my car. Instead of being just an even coat of yellow, it's a lovely, smeared up mess.<br />
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Lesson learned.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfQqHNzY3ORdqocX7j-ub82uvitET8V99YjWn10ykScbJxW71Jlgsw2FEuLBcxYDHwqlppq7SPiOFcCqKMTPL7Mbw6ulr2cPwYUnruACjEIaxGIKT5c0i6kfAEW3Zd9Po1iMgt0Xaeiz0/s1600/HG2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfQqHNzY3ORdqocX7j-ub82uvitET8V99YjWn10ykScbJxW71Jlgsw2FEuLBcxYDHwqlppq7SPiOFcCqKMTPL7Mbw6ulr2cPwYUnruACjEIaxGIKT5c0i6kfAEW3Zd9Po1iMgt0Xaeiz0/s320/HG2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This gets me pretty riled up, not gonna lie</td></tr>
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<br />
Also, spring means the Hunger Games came out. I'm not going to geek out here, because I could and you would roll your eyes and be like, oh, she's one of THOSE. But I was so excited. Like a teen. Like a TWILIGHT fan, for God's sake.<br />
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It was sort of pathetic. No, I didn't dress up. I was trying to play it cool (not sure it worked: I was about to cry when we couldn't find theater parking), but I LOVED the books and the movie was really well done. It was like a beautiful illustration. Don't bother seeing it if you haven't read the books or at least gone to one of the cheat-sheet sites (<a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/movies/hunger-games-cheat-sheet-gallery-1.1046934">Try this</a>). But as a writer, I think this is one of the greatest accomplishments you can have. Capture the imagination of MILLIONS and reach them on that level that only a really wonderful storyteller can. Suzanne Collins, with her amazing imagination, is one of my heros. You go girl.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu-uYeN0BtRUs5JE6GNI7S6RXjdc7DPbnOBugXjSJOS5PbUln8H0U4Sepnhg2gAXtE1PAK70HZh1FdMSMYiD4MtMHqJ5rYxfDbYD2lCGU6NCthWCdGz_YGY1H7Nw3ZLO2KRaCpT106QzHb/s1600/suzanne-collins_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu-uYeN0BtRUs5JE6GNI7S6RXjdc7DPbnOBugXjSJOS5PbUln8H0U4Sepnhg2gAXtE1PAK70HZh1FdMSMYiD4MtMHqJ5rYxfDbYD2lCGU6NCthWCdGz_YGY1H7Nw3ZLO2KRaCpT106QzHb/s200/suzanne-collins_1.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She looks like a bad ass</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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It's a million years past my bedtime, since I now have a job and wake up with the birds, apparently. See you tomorrow :)<br />
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MWAH,<br />
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moiUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0