Singing in the Rain

So I told you I was taking a walk. 

                                            

I was having a hard time studying. 

So easily distractible.

 The flowers are out.

 These, of course, aren't bedded flowers. They are bouquets for sale at the corner market.

 So preee-tay.

Succulents!

Nimby Burger. Kits Beach staple. Summer Only.

Look at my feet!

The beginning of the Sea Wall.

Cherry blossoms!

Lichens!

That's so sweet.

Community Gardens were built along the old railway tracks. This is my walk every morning.

Marina-side paraphernalia.

The greenery is slowly climbing up. In a few weeks, that whole balustrade will be covered.

They sell kids there.

Bankybear and her spring finest. 

"I'm Ethan Tremblay and I'm your husband's best friend."

 I never worked this hard in university. I never HAD TO. But baking school man, has given me an anxiety disorder. Kidding! I already had one. 

I've posted some baking escapades over on The Oven Wall. Truffles, chocolate shops and my hatred of eclairs. 

How 'bout some pictures?

Pretty much crazy about these glasses. Anthropologie. Eeee. 

I want this hair on my head RIGHT NOW. I found this blog called Fuck Yeah Hair and I spend a really shameful amount of time on it. I sometimes even wish my hair was a pastel. Even though I know I don't want that. But there's a lot I do want on here. Too bad hair's not like makeup. If it was, I would totally be bald right now. Because I could have my hair back tomorrow. 

Lemon and mixed olive tapenade. 

My father-in-law bought me this cookbook for Christmas because he obviously loves me and wants me to be happy. This cookbook, y'all, seriously is so good. The pictures alone. I feel good about my skills by just reading it. It's like transferrence. So thank you Bourke Street. Australians are good for society. They do these creme brûlée tarts that are vanilla custard tarts with the caramelized sugar crust on top. Genius. Or they do bread with roasted potatoes in it. Their brainstorming sessions must be a ton of fun. Givin' the green light on awesomeness. 

You see the creme brûlée tarts? Far right? Booyah.

 Having a couple days off from school has been great for my perspective. I was able to read today, drink some coffee that wasn't cold, go for a walk on the beach, workout in the daylight. I have been downright spoiled. Bankybear has it's spring finest on right now. All the trees are budding, flowers are sprouting up from the ground. And our lives are all drizzle so it's definitely spring in the Pacific Northwest. This is the point in the year that I cuddle my SAD lamp like a lap dog. "The summer makes up for it." I keep hearing this so it must be true. 

I'm taking my camera out for documentation sake tomorrow regardless. 

Song of the day: Little Black Sandals by Sia

Monday, March 5, 2012

Crunch

I am feeling quite sheepish and rather…swollen as I sit here. I had one of those "How did…what just HAPPENED to me?!" Last night, we had small group and it was amazing as per usual but it was SO late. Sunday nights are usually about a four hour night for me, which I cope with in my typical way on Monday: bad mood, copious profanity and solitude. Have to admit, all of those things were hugely exaggerated today. 

Last night, as I was setting up everything that I was going to need in the morning outside the bedroom, I set some stuff down on one of our dining chairs and then rotated in an easily achievable occipital movement. I obviously did so a little bit faster and more drastic than was necessary because the left side of my nose met swiftly and disagreeably with the door frame of our bathroom. And it made the sound of splintering wood. Mega gross. I spent about thirty seconds waiting for my nose to start bleeding (which it didn't) and trying to figure out whether my nose was broken. I have no idea how much force is necessary to break a nose. I really hoped that being a doofus couldn't supply said necessary force. I hit my nose hard enough to break the skin on the outside, so I have a nice, bloodied divot on the bridge of my nose. Of course, at this point I'm crying just because I hit myself in the face and my eyes are making me pay for such aggression in their near vicinity. 

Matt is trying to understand WHAT JUST HAPPENED and I almost wouldn't tell him out of sheer embarrassment. I iced it for about twenty minutes before going to sleep. I woke up and the 'bullseye area' on my face is so swollen. It hurts to chew, laugh, frown and certainly do anything related to my nose's intended function. I don't have a black eye. Yet. But of course I also don't know what kind of force is necessary to get a black eye either. Any time I've achieved one in the past it has been due to being RETARDED. Being hit in the face with a rolling rack, hitting my face on the side of the bathtub trying to wash my hair, etc. It's a hard knock life, you know, being clumsy. I get points for effort though. 

This has been inspirational. It has also supplied me with bursts of unmitigated laughter in situations like riding the bus, sitting in lecture, and sleeping. 

How did he do that!?
This and Bulleit Bourbon are my official sponsors* during this week leading up to midterms. Coping mechanisms are a situational necessity. Baby Duck champagne was a running contender for sponsorship but  eventually lost out due to the fact that half of it is bubbles. Bubbles don't help.

Found another girl with serious game. Her voice is just delicious. Lianne La Havas. There are times that I hear stuff like Adele's first album. A little bit of Joss Stone. Little bit of Amy Winehouse. And she's cheeky which is a always a bonus. On her FB profile she says that she's nothing like Corrine Bailey Rae or Andreya Triana "but we have similar hair". And amazing hair it is. I have sincerely prayed that the Lord would give me her hair in another life. (*It's easy to get her, Andreya Triana and Corrine Bailey Rae confused. They are all British, biracial and have smokin' voices. Their styles are so different though. I heard a version of Que Sera by Corrine Bailey Rae at Glastonbury-an 8 minute version mind you- and was mesmerized nearly the whole time. I may have been mesmerized by her jumpsuit at one point. Not gonna lie.)

Her song "Lost and Found" is so heartbreaking. It's simply just how someone can so easily break into your brokenness and fuel it. Her voice is so beautiful you almost miss the meaning of the song but then you listen and then you feel sad. But you're still groovin'.

I am repeating with The Civil Wars what I did with Adele's album last year. I wake up singing it. My dreams include it. I encounter random trigger words that remind me of one of their songs. Try it out.

*Bulleit Bourbon is not actually an official sponsor. Come on now. That would be awesome though.

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