if my blog could talk...

...it would beg me.

ever notice that when your life grows fatter with everything delicious and mouth-watering and can i borrow that recipe, please and four hundred and fifty degrees for thirty minutes until it's bubbling over that it makes you lose your appetite for all that you honestly want to send back to the kitchen?

i need to have a sit-down with the chef in charge of this blog, yes? she has been using expired ingredients.

but i promise you i'll boomerang back soon.

by the way, did you see my nails? here is another peek. DON'T THEY MAKE YOU HAPPY? and will you drunken french paint yours, too? say yes. also, gimme.

i couldn't choose...

sending wishes you've found a forever love, or hopefully will tomorrow. doesn't matter when, i guess. just make sure you cross it off your list at some point.

also not to be discounted is a healthy side of thug-lite in the ones you love. keeps things interesting. unless you're at a lacrosse match and two of yours are holding sticks.

happy day, friends. and now, i must go check on esmé's hard-boileds. they're probably done because my little kitchen timer has just asked the question that precedes a mini explosion or petite fire.



"what's with the popping?"

gimme. gimme.

it's friday...

and i just realized i've not written anything here all week. it's just...i may be a little off.

it started out just rotten when a friend i've never even met but who i adore nonetheless shared some sad news. through a stream of monday mails, i half-joked that i was experiencing the seven stages of grief for her. i've not yet made it past pissed.




and then every single night has been full of drowning dreams. do you even know how stressful it is to save people you love from impromptu floods and skyscraper waves out of the clear blue? when you aren't a strong swimmer?

sigh. i hate getting my hair wet.

and then there are the edge-of-the-cliff nightmares. when someone falls, i always seem to jump with them. it feels like the right thing to do. until it is clearly not.

all of these nightmares make me a little giddy during daylight hours, and that is not as delightful as it sounds. especially if a someone sadly tells you that an old man neighbor just died. and you start laughing and then look at the girlies three in a laughing panic who look horrified at your laughing and then you try to knock it off, mister! but holding in laughs is even worse than letting them out in situations like this. i should know.

the other night, a sweet friend was talking about something awful and tragic and she used the whispered phrase "i mean...it was like the holocaust."

umm. not even close. like, not even in the same universe close. what she was talking about would more accurately be classified as a bad scene. not genocide. which is why i busted out laughing uncontrollably. do you understand? please say yes. but, man, i wondered later if anyone stumbled into that conversation late and heard the word holocaust and then saw me on the floor in a fit of giggles...well...that would be a bad.

ever since, every time something insignificantly annoying happens that peeves off people around me, that phrase she used flies through my head. each time, a different historic tragedy. I KNOW! it's making me so wiggly uncomfortable and i can't for the life of me make it disappear!



see? so this is why i haven't posted this week. otherwise, i am dandy.

i found these two images on sex for breakfast. i think that is a good name for a blog. or a bakery.

the other side...

this day is about to turn into a late afternoon and early evening of intense madness. my stress levels were freaking out a little until until until i came across a few drawings by esmé.

are you sick of hearing esmé escapades? i understand if you are. but, man. i will never tire of writing them down.




ever since we saw da vinci's ginevra de' benci - the only da vinci in the western hemisphere and it's hanging in our museum! and i just edited out a what now, complete with shout-out pose. and then i thought better of that edit. - she's been drawing on both sides of her papers.

a front view and a back view.

i find this fascinating. marvelous. interesting. brilliant. badass.

and it's amazing to me how excruciatingly different the same scene looks. it's like the difference between hello and goodbye, one of which i avoid like the plague. it breaks my heart too hard. does that even make sense?




if there's a point to this, it's that i'm going to look at my late afternoon and early evening of intense madness from my girlies' view. which turns it all straight-away into a few hours of wonderful.

hope you have a sweetheart of a weekend, you little sweethearts. from any view. xoxo. here and here.