Today.

What my Friday morning should have been like:

 What my Friday morning was actually like:

First of all, I woke up out of sorts because I slept on the couch so I could cuddle with my cat because he is sick. Again. For the bazillionth time. He wouldn't even snuggle with me until it was already ten minutes after I should have been getting ready for work, so that was a bust.

Then I thought I could wear my hair curly today. That was also a bust....It's always a bust.

When girls complain about their hair, they're all like

 



and I'm like

 



Then I looked in the mirror and realized that I'm actually 13 because, for the fourth day in a row, it looks like I have a mild case of the chicken pox. (Ah, the paradox of using sunscreen on my face. On one hand, my skin will stay beautiful because I won't be wrinkly at 29 from the sun. On the other hand, my skin will be stuck in the 8th grade because I have sensitive skin. Life is really tough.)

Then it was time to give Walter some medicine.

All morning.

 

 

Fifteen minutes and one terrified/miserable cat later, I was ready to leave for work. So I put on my coat (not my favorite coat though because I left that one in Italy....grumblegrumblegrumble) and walked with Alan (what a cutie for walking with me on his day off!) to the train.

 

On the way I got too hot, and the sun was in my eyes because I forgot my sunglasses, and the walk to the train is uphill so I was breathing heavy, and my hair was half wet and half dry and the dry, frizzy parts of my hair kept stroking my face just so I could feel ALLLLLLL the glory of my frizz, and...

 

I had so many First World problems this morning.

 

When I got to the train station, I realized that I didn't bring my book or my Week magazine, so I took one of the Metro newspapers. Big mistake. The first article I opened was about a six year old who is on her 11th surgery after the Boston Bombings. Man I'm an asshole.

 

So I decided that I should be in a little bit better mood, because what's really wrong with having frizzy hair and pimples over the age of 18???

 

 

 

Then the kid in front of me started screaming and crying and he kicked me in the shins mid-tantrum, so then I decided that I hated the world again.

 

And now I feel much better, thank you.

 



 

Peanut Butter Jelly Time

Today is a PB&J kinda day. I don't know what makes a day any more PB&J than another, but this day really just felt like it.

Quite right*.


So I went to Panera Bread and got a PB&J off of the children's menu because no where else seems to have PB&J on their normal adult, working woman lunch menu.

Exactly. I was so excited when my buzzer went off, and then I got to the counter.

I wanted to cry a little.

Worst picture ever, but 1) as an adult, I just ordered a PB&J off of the children's menu in a place swarming with people in business suits, 2) my PB&J came with a GoGurt... which I promptly returned because I'm not, in fact, a child, but thanks, and 3) I didn't want people to think I was taking a sweet Instagram picture of my PB&J because I thought it looked awesome.

I know you can't see what's circled, but allow me to tell you what it is. It's the total cost of the sandwich. The amount in the circle would be $4.48.

Excuse me? I should be able to Instagram my PB&J for that price.

So then I opened the sandwich and wanted to cry again. Please have a look:

 

.

 

Lame. So anyway, I still had a hankerin' for a PB&J when I was finished because the first one fed maybe a three year old... so I got another

Oh alright, like you've never gotten two PB&Js before in your life

 



Good news- the second one really did the trick. Thank Jesus.

*I was in London Heathrow for about an hour and a half yesterday and so now I think I'm British.



 

Girls.

This weekend it was GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS.

On Saturday I had a girly-party at my apartment. What a wonderful thing: girly parties. Lots of good food, plenty of wine, dresses, pretty necklaces and gossip about boys... obviously. I have no pictures, but just imagine that it looked like something on Pinterest. It didn't, but just imagine it did anyway.

Some a-hole prevented Julie from coming in for the weekend (since she was supposed to come on Friday) so my brunch date with Julie and Michelle on Sunday turned into lunch with Michelle on Sunday. What did I have? Heaven.

 

In case you're wondering what that is, it's an open faced smoked ham and Monterey Jack cheese sandwich on banana bread with mango chutney from Parish Cafe on Boylston.

 

 

....Nope, Monterey Jack cheese on banana bread definitely tastes as good, possibly better, than skinny feels. But thanks for your input.

 



Then we went shopping and bought perfume.

Afterwards I saw Jessica, and we took a walk around the North End and Waterfront, which I followed up with the last 57 minutes of Sex and the City 2 and an asparagus gruyere tart and carrot cake cupcake as soon as I got home.

What a fantastic weekend.

So fantastic, in fact, that you'd think I would have slept peacefully, likesuchas:

No such luck. Last night I thought there were mice in my room while I was trying to fall sleep. Turns out it was just the wind blowing the string for the blinds all over the wall. Then I woke up at 4am for no reason. Then, I woke up at 6:18am in a panic because I thought I slept past my alarm. I proceeded to wake Alan up in a panic, again. Good thing we still had another whole hour to sleep. It was a tough night all around.

Also, at some point in the night, I took out one of my earrings while I was sleeping. At least I was responsible enough to put the back back on and put it on my nightstand...

...

...What's tough about a blog is that I'm blogging even though nothing that cool happened in my life. So thanks for sticking with it to the end. That was really kind of you.

 

I am most upset, and other updates.

1. HOW... HOW IN GOD'S NAME DID I MISS THIS?

I am le mis.

2. I wonder if every red head in this city knows that I have a crush on them. Seriously.

3. Yesterday, Jessica and I went for a run down Commonwealth and stopped over on Newbury St. to get as close to Boylston St. without being pummeled by the FBI as possible. I didn't take any pictures because I didn't think it was appropriate, but man is it eerie. And it's sad.

4. Knowing that there are so many news anchors here, I've been on the lookout for faces I might recognize. I saw Scott Pelley from CBS news yesterday after my run. He has very dewy skin. Also, I'm pretty sure that for .3 seconds I was on National News because I walked right behind him while the camera was rolling. I hope America saw my high waisted pants, sweaty hair, and general state of disorder and it provided them with a few moments of light laughter and distraction. No autographs, please.

5. Today I thought I saw Anderson Cooper casually eating lunch in Post Office Square. Turns out it was not him. I guess I forgot that if Anderson Cooper were eating lunch in Post Office Square, it wouldn't be so casually.

6. I can't wait until my Fruit & Vegetable CSA starts showing up.

...

 I don't really have any further comments on this, I just want it to start showing up is all.

7. I'm still taking pictures of Winston & Walter.

I realize that it's the same exact picture every time, even though I'm taking them on different days, but I can't stop.

That bean bag is for lovers.

You can smoosh their faces if you want to.

 

Skorts.

Oh, I haven't blogged in months? Well, I was busy.

I got my hair cut, I bought a six month membership to the gym (and went for a solid month...three months ago), ordered a new cook book, and bought a plane ticket to Italy.

I was busy.

Anyway, what's done is done and here I am. Let's hope it sticks. Doubt it will so I'll see you next year.

Last night I went out with a couple girlfriends for Jessica's 27th birthday. It's just so good to be around girls sometimes instead of at home with boys constantly yelling at the TV because A) the Red Sox or the Bruins or the Patriots or any other sports team on the face of this planet that doesn't hail from New York is losing or made a bad pass, B) the Red Sox or Bruins or Patriots are losing on the X Box, or C) because not enough people are dying in any game that may be being played at that moment on the X Box. I just don't get boys.

Anyway, on the way to the bar, I bought a new lipstick. Why? No reason. Just thought I'd like a new lipstick.

First, I needed to try on this exact color*.

Then I had a mini photo shoot. Obnoxious. But now I know: Malibu Barbie Pink belongs only on Malibu Barbie. And on the MAC make-up artists. But on no one else under any circumstances.

It's fine. I selected Grandma Nude (to go with my grandma beige nail polish and all my navy/black/beige/navy/grey/navy/beige clothes). Welcome to my life as a cubicle.

Anyway, after my purchase (and a few white lies about needing a new bronzer so that they would freshen mine up and also about having an identical twin sister *which is why I needed to try the Malibu Barbie pink on "because she might like it") I headed off to the bar.

I was having a great time with all the girls laughing and gabbing and talking about lipsticks and then I heard "I just really wish skorts would come back."

Ahh, the skort. Yes, I remember skorts. Per Urban Dictionary:

      Skort:

        1. a skirty sort of shorts
        2. a mullet for your butt

        Included was a special note that skorts are terminally ugly and also a warning to children that
        skorts are, and always will be, a fashion faux pas.

Sidenote- I stumbled upon this gem as I was googling 'skorts, function over fashion':

 

For all those times you need a table and just don't have one.

 

Anyway, Ciao! (I'm practicing my Italian before my trip that way I don't end up speaking Spanish to the servers like I did in France)

Cookies4lyfe and traveling by turtles.

It has been impossible for me to function this past week without a 'baked goods break' at some point (or three points) during the day. I thought yesterday might be the day that this hot (crossed buns) streak ended, but alas, it wasn't. I stopped on Newbury for a break from shopping, a pot of tea and to read my book. Turns out I you can't just have a pot of tea without a scone.

I was at a training for work two days last week and will be there for two days again this week. I feel like I did back when I was in Chem101 where everything was literally beyond me but I had to pay attention anyway. This class is way better, though, because they give you cookies after lunch. 4" cookies. Yes please, I'll have several.

"Give me cookies or give me death" I dare say.

Ashley and I went to see Grace Potter and the Nocturnals at the House of Blues on Friday. We got there a little after the opening band started mostly because Ash and I stayed at the restaurant a bit longer so we could each have $8 brownies.

The opening band was really good (any band that has banjos is automatically on my top 20 list of favorite bands ever, but this one was especially good). I had no idea who they were but I was convinced 13 seconds in that I was going to buy their album.

I asked the guy next to me who they were, and because the fiddle was goin and the banjo was goin and the whateverotherinstruments were goin, all I heard was "Travel by Turtles." So I told Ashley the name and Google'd "Travel by Turtles." Turns out the band's name is Trampled by Turtles. They play some fast, loud and big folk music. That's for sure.

Grace was super good, too. What wasn't good was the drunk girl in front of us who was "feeling" the music and swaying/jumping way off beat. She was the worst.

Cats.

Doughnuts and cats.

There's nothing really interesting for me to write about but I made Ryan Gosling a promise yesterday that I would blog everyday, so that's what I'm doing for at least today and tomorrow.

1. I went to the gym yesterday which felt nice. I have a cold that I refuse to take medicine for so I think the sweat from my (very) mild run on the treadmill (...whatever) helped to clean my body out a little bit. I feel a lot better today and am not sneezing every 5-6 minutes (sorry co-workers in close proximity).

When I walked into the locker room after my workout, I noticed a sign that I hadn't noticed before:

WHO IS EATING DOUGHNUTS AT THE GYM?!

Weirdos.

2. I found out some bad news yesterday. My mom might not be able to watch the Walking Dead on Sunday. This means I have zero people to text every time something amazing/gross/disgusting/stupid/idiotic/gross/really gross/terrible/disgusting happens. Also, Alan's also going to be in France for a week and a half, so now I don't even have anyone to WATCH it with.

I cannot.

3. A confession but hardly a surprise: I keep taking pictures of my cats.

They literally have a photo shoot once a day. I can't stop and it's becoming pathetic. Not as pathetic as this cat photo shoot, but close.

That's all.