it's the simple things

I don't know what it is about baked things. I love them. I even love simply walking through the baking aisle at the market. Cakes, regular or cupped size, cookies, breads... you name it, I probably want to eat it. Or bake it. Bake it, then eat it.

The other night we were strolling around downtown Wilmington and I saw that chalkboard sign. All the restaurants have them and they always say funny little things. But they had never read my mind. But, really, I did want it in my belly. Carrot Cupcake with Cream Cheese Frosting. Simply yummy. 

Sitting pretty

I love pictures of people. I love faces. Sitting and relaxing on a patio, it's a simple pleasure really. Capturing the essence of easy comfort that comes with rest; kickin' back, chillin' and relaxin' all cool.









Wish you were here Rach!

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Location:Sitting on patios everywhere.

Next word.

New word:

Simple

That's all.

Quotidian

It should come as no surprise:

It is something you imbibe:


Sometimes you have it on dates with good friends:


Dates with people you miss:


I like mine strong and black (like I like my men and Presidents and so on and so forth):



It's also good with pie. It's also good to have with the folks you go on "Pie Dates" with (who you also miss):



Sometimes you make fun of Michelle when you drink it:



Sometimes it's so good, you want to savor every drop of it but you spill it at the Farmer's Market in San Francisco (which wasn't so bad because you were with your family):



I make it everyday:



With a smile (even for people I don't prefer):



If you don't know me by now...you'll never, ever, ever know me:

No, I'm not a Boyz to Men Song, I'm coffee. I am the bane of your existence. I'm your drug, your comfort, your wakefulness, your addiction, your tastiness, your loveliness. But mostly, I'm your everyday.




At least it's MY everyday, quotidian really.

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erryday

Or at least it feels like it. We have these neighbors who fight. ALL THE TIME. Maybe not everyday (definition of quotidian), but it sure feels like it. Usually we only hear it muffled so it's not that big of a deal, just sad. But one day I came home from school and he came home at the exact same time, he flings open the door and they just go at it. And they don't close the door. It's okay though, because I ran through mine. I was so uncomfortable. I mean not that arguments don't happen but incessant screaming matches? Something has to be wrong. And then, like clockwork, after pretty much each and every fight, he comes out, sits on the stairs, and enjoys a nice, long cigarette break. I walked by this little beauty and just had to snap it. Looks like he didn't get to finish that last break, but don't worry, he'll be back. 

And, ya know, sometimes I just want to ask her why they stay together. Not that he is the only one to blame, in fact, it seems terribly unhealthy for the both of them. And, not to be a complainer, but the cigarette butts and smell I could do without. 

We're moving to a different apartment this weekend and this couple will forever be out of our lives but there were definitely times when they reminded me how good we have it.

Quotidian

There you go Rach. Bring it. Tell your mom she better have seconds at Sunday Dinner! :)


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Oh-my-gaudy!

My room mate Amanda is engaged. Planning a wedding is the consequence of marital engagement. Being the love cynic that I am, you can imagine that all the hoopla regarding these events is regarded with a snarky attitude on my end. In fact, my other room mate, Kelsey and I find the hysteria about weddings and love bizarre enough to have joked about starting an anti-wedding blog and titling it; "Nauseated at Nuptial Bliss." (Don't hold your breath).

Amanda is a far cry from a "Bridezilla." She's relaxed and finds our musings about these things entertaining and relatively understandable. However, we do have copious amounts of bridal magazines in our house (which, in my excitement over Chase and Amanda's engagement, I'll admit I contributed to our lot with gladness. I mean, it's absurd to expect a girl to plan a wedding without at least five of these handy manuscripts.) Karma really is, as they say, a "bee-yotch" or, fate has a cruel sense of humor, because one morning I stubbed my toe so hard on a tall pile of those magazines and drew blood. After whispered profanities in the early hours of the morning, trying not to wake my house mates I thought; "Now if that wasn't a metaphor for my life, I don't know what is."

One night Kels and I flipped through a magazine and neither of us could find a single dress we would ever agree to wear. The contents of these magazines are oftentimes; gimcrack, unbelievably gaudy.

Amanda found her dress yesterday!


And no, it doesn't make her look like a cupcake with those paper Asian fans hot glued gun all over the place like the one on the cover of this magazine. Nope, Amanda's classy with a great sense of style and a heart I'm going to miss a whole heap when she move's out this month.


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