She is a complete elite confection. She might as well have been a bonbon. – Peggy Noonan, WSJ.com
Yes. It’s about Sarah Palin. It also…shocking…is about food. I mean life doesn’t get much better then that (unless maybe I actually wrote a real blog post).
“Part of what some people call the hipster hottie butchering phenomenon is that sometimes the meat isn’t up to par,” said Josh Ozersky, senior restaurant editor for Citysearch and author of two books on meat-related subjects. “It’s like some kind of tattooed lothario is now going to give you the horrible shins raised by some other hipster who doesn’t know anything about meat.”
Thank you NYTimes food section. You are sustaining me through my Wednesday. And I’m pretty sure I needed to quote the above so that I could be convinced that I hadn’t just made it up.
Hipster Hottie Butchering Phenomenon.
One word = Awesome.
A cupcake is like a great pop song. The whole world in less than three minutes. — Laurel Nakadate
That is kinda the most fantastic line I’ve read today. I’m sure more will come on life later. :)
I expected today to be awash. Pretty much I had no plans, I wasn’t sure I wanted plans, and I was confidents that is plans actually arose I would shoot them down. And then I climbed out of my bed. Oh how quickly my resolve faded.
It began with breakfast/lunch. The British Friend wanted pancakes and we were both pretty confident that our go to pancake place would be packed. So, I pulled out the random box of Bisquick (Lord only knows in what moment of desperation that appeared in my kitchen) and I went to work pancake making. A shot time later, pancakes…fresh strawberries and syrup graces my beautiful square dishes. It was great, I mean not as great as the buttermilk pancakes, but tasty all the same.
Then it was off to E’s where the party was in full swing to finish off yesterday’s keg. It was crazy. It was amazing. I don’t think I have laughed so hard in a long time.
But then came my favorite part of the day.
[Back story: So yesterday evening I told the LP that in a new attempt to embrace my single me-ness I was going to take myself out, i.e. I find myself way too dependent and heaven help me I can't be the third wheel, or the fifth wheel. It's just too much to handle Thus, I said I was taking myself to the movies].
Back to present time.
There were about a million and one times during the day that I was just like, heck no an I going to the movies by myself. It seemed lame once I decided that I was doing it. Shockingly I followed though. At 7:10 pm I left what could only be describe as “Drunkfest ‘09;” as the sober girl it was probably a good departure point.
At 7:30 I was happy as a clam in the theater watching UP. It was darling and wonderful and fantastic. I may have been the only person that wasn’t in a group, which was a little much in the beginning, but by the end it was totally fine. I walked out of the theater and was on the waterfront when the fireworks began and pretty much all I could think (after: ooh and ahh) was, wow I am a darn good date planner if I do say so myself. :)
Now it’s time to pack a box and then curl up with Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (less the 15 days to make it through OotP and then Half-Blood Prince before the movie comes out). Fantastic end of an evening.
It’s the 4th of July.
I’m taking myself on a date to see UP. It’s at the moment the best decision ever. We’ll see how this ends up.
I love kitchens. This shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone, and the joke will continue that I don’t like pre-planning non-exisitent events (i.e. weddings) but I have planned my ideal kitchen for years.
Paint will be green (dark) with pale green and white accents, stainless steel appliances and cool wall art. But one this that never crossed my mind was stoves. And then my mom bought a stove from Blue Star, and they come in colors (and I may have asked her to will it to me). Then, shock of all shocks…Gourmet Magazine, gave me something new and wonderful to think about.
People, this the the crème de la crème of stoves. It’s beautiful. It comes in colors. They handcraft it specifically to your needs and wants. We’ll overlook that it’s french. Pretty much, I have a new dream and it’s a stove.
I’m that absurd (and yes, maybe a little pathetic).
Music soothes my soul, let’s however stipulate that it is normally classical music that does so. I chalk it up to 14+ years of ballet (13 hard core years). When you dance you channel a seriously deep emotion, and add in the music and you’re a goner. Thus, I love give me a good instrumental and I’ll be as happy as a clam. But my real instrumental love:
Movie Scores.
I love them (well done ones of course). When done right, they can draw you in to a performance and can carry you along through the scope of emotions that a scene, or act or dance, is meant to inspire. My love go beyond the wonder of John Williams (Harry Potter, Indiana Jones, Star Wars, etc) and ventures into some unknown and some popular.
This is J. Every time I type that I want to write Little J, like in Gossip Girl.
This is a look of sheer carrot cupcake contentment.
3 carrot cupcakes.
Any Questions?
Motto for today:
Je déteste des hommes dans la politique
Yeah, you saw that right. Today’s motto is in french. For all those who knew me in college you will know that I hate the french language with all the fire that is in me. And yet, it moments of absurd expressiveness, I find myself summarizing my thoughts in one line of french (often shocked that I remember vocab and conjugation).
Reasons behind my detesting of men in politics (which really is more men in power): read more…
I love me some cupcakes. But more then cupcakes, I love baking for people. So last week when I was in a mood to beat all moods, a friend of mine asked for carrot cake knowing that that baking would help calm my soul (which was apparent since I kept moaning the line, “I just want to bake.” Why people put up with me I don’t know, oh wait I do, it’s the cake). She also demanded that I pep up, stop being a crabby pants and join a mass horde at the Bay on Saturday.
I decided to combine all those efforts and thus, pepped up, found my happy pants, and made 26 carrot cupcakes to take to the bay.
