Waaam Bam Maaam

THE OMG SPAGHETTI BAKE

2011-10-20T16:21:00.000-07:00

Git ready, this one’ll fight your kidneys, and win. I didn't photograph. We devoured it before that could happen. Okay. Start with pasta. A shitload. Not really, just about two cups. I mixed elbow macaroni, and farfalle. This was a good idea. Next. Boil pasta till it tastes like boiled pasta. While this is taking its sweet time, get yo preparation on. Pull out mom’s old glass pie pan, and reminisce on the good ol’ days. Alright, now get back to it. Pour maybe a tablespoon or two of olive oil into said pie pan; shaky shaky. Grab the nearest (possibly questionable) pasta sauce. Mine was Bertolli "spicy somethin’ or other." Pop the lid, and dump a generous amount into the dish, along with some capers (roughly four or five teaspoons, if you’re a caper fan; if not, get outta town, capers are delicious). Cheese. Now. Once again, the lack of a full fridge led me to the genius option of mixin’: chedda, mozza, and some parm-time. (Good idea #2.) Grate the crap outta that stuff, and depending on how heavy you want to feel after this meal, use accordingly. Apparently I wanted to feel real heavy... Use half for mixing with the sauce, and half for after the pasta. Now. Important step. Drain and add pasta. More sauce, duh. Mix it all up again. Remember when we talked about that cheese, “half for after the pasta” bit, well, here’s where that chimes in. Sprinklin’ cheese for days. Then some salt n’ peppa. Then some fried onions, just cause we got ‘em. Then some smoked paprika. That’s important, unless you want a less-than-awesome OMG SPAGHETTI BAKE, which you don’t. Then, remember that you forgot to preheat the oven to 400, and pick out pieces of pasta to snack on until the oven’s ready. Smooth it out, pretend it never happened, then toss the whole deal into the oven. “For, like” 15 minutes. At this point, realize that those fried onion pieces should probably have been added later on in the baking process, but embrace the extra smokey flavor, and call it a day.

Summmertime!

2011-07-27T12:04:00.000-07:00

Cuckoo Chaos: "Just Ride It"

Spotted

2011-03-26T14:12:00.000-07:00

A rather small, cheerful old fellow just walked into Krakatoa, my favorite cafe. I'm sitting on the couch, watching him. He's clad in an equally cheerful bright orange raincoat, and he just received his sandwich. He's carefully, oh-so-delicately, unwrapping it. Upon seeing it, all to himself, little fists upon the table, he mouths the words "oh yes, oh yes, oh yes!" I want to kiss him.

He Listens to Jesus and The Mary Chain

2010-12-07T14:20:00.000-08:00

Today, after violin lesson, I came home, and laid down on the couch. I sensed something soon, though, and raised my lids to see Vinyl (my ever-growing fat black cat) crouched straight in front of me, lying on my clean pillow.

"I have to wash this pillowcase now, Stupid!"

Stupid is the name I sometimes call him, when he makes poor life choices. He meows softly. I return my lids to their previous position. Open them, close them. He is confused. I know this. I continue in this manner, hoping he'll get up and leave, feeling my hatred. Instead, he simply hits me in the face with his, seemingly mittened, paw.

"Stupid!"

"Meow!"

Then we just lay there, staring. We stared for what seemed like hours, but really only about three minutes. Still, a long time for a cat and girl to stare hatefully at one another.

"I was here first," I say.

"Like I give a rat's ass," he says (in his cat mind).

I punch him in his cat face (in my human mind). Somehow he knows. His fat paw reaches out, and pauses, midair, threatening. I stare, hard. Eventually, he rests it on my shoulder. We're that close on the pillowcase. He looks at me with a face that says, "Let that be a lesson to you." So, in revenge, I sit here writing this to you, letting you see what evils lurk within his hateful body. He sits, a few centimeters away, reading over my shoulder (I hate that. He knows.).

"I probably won't feed you for a few days."

"Meow!"

"You eat too much anyways. You're fat."

"Take a look in the mirror lately?" He asks, suddenly speaking english, only to beat me down.

"I'm a growing girl," I say, stunned.

"Then, I'm a growing cat," he says, nonchalantly.

"At least I do yoga," I say.
He says something under his breath, chuckles softly, and continues reading. I hate him. Him and his cat breath can go to hell.

...
"You missed a comma," and blows a ring of cat breath in my eyes.

Panty Party!

2010-09-11T11:43:00.000-07:00

About a week ago, I housesat for some friends of mine, Jess and Luke. Before leaving for their trip, Luke kept mentioning how nice it would be if he returned to a home filled with the "good vibes" left over from a panty party. I took his recommendation into some creative (yet realistic) thought, and planned on leaving panties strewn about the house, as well as a berry pie filled with some nudie dolls (displayed as having a party of their own). Sadly, my creative endeavors and my time slots for such things rarely go hand in hand. I was scheduled to work each day, and on the final day, I pulled into the driveway after work, only a few tire stretches before my friends. This left no time for the decorations, but I did find time, a few days later, to bake the pie. I present to you the Blackberry Apple Panty Party. I didn't try it, but it got great reviews from Jess and Luke, and I'm sure I'll be making it again in the future. It's a recipe from Martha Stewart, so you know it's gonna be tasty. If you're up for it, you can find it here. Although, if you're looking for some sexy ladies (and cat faces with sunglasses), in Martha's pie, you'll be sorely disappointed. Take that, Martha! [I didn't mean it! I love you!!!] Anyways, although it's far less elaborate than planned, this is my version; the better version (duh).

Note: Going to Michael's at 9:15 at night, and swiftly dodging the door guard, to buy one bag of nude mini barbie dolls (with severed legs), may label you as a creep.

Tuesdays With Cecile

2010-09-01T23:55:00.000-07:00

Every Tuesday, I babysit for two little girls, Cecile (age 4) and Cora (age 1). A few Tuesdays past, I surprised Cecile with a tea party, whilst her sister took her normal two-hour nap. Cecile and I shook the dust off of our "finest dresses" (mine, a little more dusty than hers), and made a go for it. In true fashion, we ate only the finest. I planned a menu which included: Quiche, Curried Pumpkin Soup, Cucumber Sandwiches, Raspberry Scones, Mascarpone Cream-Filled (and chocolate covered) Strawberries, and all sorts of desserts (bought at a local French bakery). We sipped Yorkshire tea, with cream and sugar, and filled our bellies a little too full. A little unorthodoxly, Cecile chose her desserts by plunging her little pinkies into each and every item, and remarking simply, "Good," or "No, no." At one point in the feast, nearing the end, we both looked at each other, and without a word, dropped our backs to the grass and stretched in the sun, trying to make more room for food; her giggling all the while. It was a sunny, and lovely, afternoon, and in typical 4-year-old fashion, Cecile made quite a display of her food and drink upon the sheet which we sat, saying hurriedly, "You can wash it!" after any and all spills. I can't believe that I get paid to have tea parties with this kid. Such a nice day.

Eyes Wide Closed

2010-08-02T10:43:00.000-07:00

"Another evening, as I'm returning to the lodge from Yavapai Point, an old spinster with a plate of ice cream in her hand remarks to her escort, a seedy-looking professor, as she licks the spoon: "Nothing so extraordinary about this, is there?" It was about seven in the evening and she was pointing to the canyon with her dripping spoon. Evidently the sunset hadn't come up to her expectations. It wasn't all flamy gold like an omelette dripping from Heaven. No, it was a quiet, reserved sunset, showing just a thin rim of fire over the far edge of the canyon. But if she had looked at the ground beneath her feet she might have observed that it was flushed with a beautiful lavender and old rose; and if she had raised her eyes to the topmost rim of rock which supports the thin layer of soil that forms the plateau she would have noticed that it was of a rare tint of black, a poetic tinge of black which could only be compared to a river or the wet trunk of a live oak or that most perfect highway which runs from Jacksonville to Pensacola under a sky filled with dramatic clouds."
- An Air-Conditioned Nightmare

I've been clearing my closet some, and yesterday, I came across my dusty book collection. This, being one of my favorite books of all time, easily persuaded me to leaf through it for a moment or two. Every time I open those pages, I rediscover some old favorite quote, shakily highlighted in my excitement. A quick shuffling of the worn sheets, creates a rainbow of highlighted words and cleverly put rants, by my favored author, and it makes me ever so happy that it's mine to keep. Die Kindle, die!!!

Oh so sweet

2010-07-21T13:30:00.000-07:00

Good Mornin' Breakfast!

2010-07-03T22:39:00.000-07:00

You're looking mighty fine on this sunny day!

Cecile, Age 4

2010-07-03T22:21:00.001-07:00

C- "Do you have a bladder?"

M- "Yes..."

C- "A big one or a small one?"

M- "I would say medium-sized."

C- "Oh! ...I have a sister!"

Cookbooks

2010-06-14T21:58:00.000-07:00

So, I'm nearing the end of my ridiculous econ course (wednesday!), and I'm planning some major baking ventures for the near future. I have eight new cookbooks to work with, as well as some enormous leaps and bounds in the magazine cookbook binders progress. So, yeah. I'm looking forward, immensely, to just having "baking days," where I rise early and spend my day listening to some good old Louis Armstrong, and baking my heart out. Pulling out the bread machine (we've probably used once in eighteen years) is a definite highlight of the future. Also: honey lavender ice cream. Delicious sounding, no? Come over. There'll be food....

Garden Beginnings

2010-05-04T09:38:00.000-07:00

The garden has been started! Harrah, harrah, hip-hip, harrah!

Get Bakin'

2010-05-04T08:56:00.000-07:00

So, I've been trying to bake a little here and there. I found a delectable looking tart in a Better Homes and Gardens magazine, and set to work. Here is a slight insight into the process. It ended pretty decently. The crust was delicious, and the custard wasn't half bad either. I decided to add a vanilla bean and seeds, for texture and taste, and I think it added a nice touch.

Vanilla tart with nutmeg crust.

Recipe: http://www.bhg.com/recipe/pudding/vanilla-tart-with-nutmeg-crust-and-spiced-pears/

He's a simple man.

2010-05-04T08:51:00.000-07:00

May the 4th be with you.

2010-05-04T08:34:00.001-07:00

Happy Star Wars Day!

Funny Hah Hah

2010-04-07T18:00:00.000-07:00

Spokane!

2010-04-05T08:37:00.000-07:00

Okay, now. This is a huge undertaking, I'll have you know. There's so much to show and tell, that I feel I'll be overwhelming this poor little blog, if I attempt to share it all. We'll do our best.

Spokane, Washington. In hopes of seeing my grandmother, Uncle, Aunt, and cousins, I threw out a suggestion that I might scamper up to Spokane during my spring break. Open arms all around. I flew through Phoenix, and on towards the greater part of Washington, ready to make pies and cookies, and to learn all about my family history. The trip was amazing. I was extremely sad to leave, but eager to tell the tales! The morning of the second day, my Aunt Judy took my grandmother and I to some estate sales, and I am happy to say that I swindled my first deal, down to fifty percent of the asking price. Sweet! I was also re-introduced to my one true love, tomato soup. Aunt Judy made a witches vat of it, the night I arrived, and it was so soothing and delicious that I scribbled down the recipe then and there. I'm eating some right now, to tell you the truth...The rest of the time there, is somewhat of a blur, but I know that I had a splendid time. I got a chance to meet my little second-cousin, Teresa, and to spend time with all of the people that I had, so many times seen photographs of, but had rarely seen in person. It was really nice.

I also got a chance to meet a really neat couple, whom I had previously chatted up on the great Couchsurfing.org. Hannah and Jonathan showed me all about town, pointing out little things, like where Johnny Depp had once sat, while shooting Benny and Joon, as well as interesting points in Spokanite history, such as the building of the largest cement bridge in Spokane (which we drove over, snapping a photo while "woohoo"-ing). We hit up a local ice cream shop (The Scoop), hiked through the mountains of records at Unified Records (which probably has the most underrated windowfronts in town), sauntered through Auntie's bookstore (Jonathan's Aunt and Uncle's establishment), slid down a Red Wagon slide and fed a goat some trash in Riverfront Park (where Mozart and the Whale filmed their first scene!), then hit up "Boo Radley's (where I found some postcards, and a few pins), and on towards a meal at The Elk (Jonathan and Hannah's treat!), and finally safely landing back at their place, where we simmered down with some "Calm" tea, played a semi-rousing game of Bananagrams (in which I was sorely, but happily, beat), and watched the best episode of Flight of the Conchords ($2.79 cup episode). We promised to keep in touch, and I've already written a letter; prepped and ready for take-off. This entire trip was accompanied by Wes Anderson soundtrack mixes. How did I happen to meet these two?! It was a day for the books.

The nicest part of this trip was being able to spend time with my grandmother, and to hear all of the stories of her childhood, and of my ancestors. It was a tough goodbye, as she grabbed my hand and said, "This is the LAST time you'll ever see me." I'll be back, though. She hasn't seen the last of me!

On the plane ride home, I met two amazing folks, named John and Shirley. They were so sweet, and we talked for a good portion of the two and a half hours of the flight. I left them with my information and ways to get in touch, and they hugged me and said I should visit them if ever I find myself in Canada. It's so nice to meet new people, and to instantly bond as we did. I know it sounds cheesy, but I think that was the real basis behind this trip. I knew who my grandmother was, and how much I loved her, but I didn't know who she had been, and what kind of a life she had led. All I knew was that she was an old granny who hated taking her daily dose of ginger. I am so very glad that this trip came to fruition, and that I was able to meet, and really get to know, every person that I did.

Two Photos Which Make Me Happy

2010-03-20T20:26:00.000-07:00

Cecile (age 4) and Cora (eight months) Levi (age 1)

Olga, Blog; Blog, Olga

2010-03-20T20:07:00.000-07:00

Half-Day Trippin'

2010-03-20T19:42:00.000-07:00

Once again, I set out with Sam and Alex for a trip; this time, to the Swap Meet (downtown San Diego). Neat, neat. I had exactly $6 in my pocket, this morning, and entry to the place swindled exactly one of those away from me, so my interest in actually purchasing anything fell increasingly, but I still had a nice time, strolling through the set ups. Alex and Sam had a few chances to display their savvy in negotiation skills.

Man- "It's eight bucks for the lot of that stuff."

Alex- "Eghah, psht. I'll give you four, TOPS!"

I tend to get too nervous in those situations, but these boys know the drill. We also went to Buffalo Echange, as well as Flashbacks, where Samuel tried to convince the hauty employees to buy his peanut-butter stained pants, to no avail. Negotiation skills only go so far, I guess...

"So I like peanut butter; what's the big DEAL?!"

-Samuel

Got burritos at Lola's. Good Day.

Update (I suppose)

2010-03-01T19:17:00.001-08:00

Lately, I've been feeling pretty great. I've been writing heaps of letters, and sending them out to my dearest of friends! It's a nice feeling, and one I hope never to lose a hold on. I'm fairly certain that I'll end up one of those nice old grannies, writing letters day and night, and protesting the Kindle till my dying day. I'm sure doilies will enter into the situation at some point, and they will most likely adorn every available surface. I have a new found love for all things lace. I should be posting more photographs here and there, but I never seem to find the time. I'm back into my magazine clipping phase, and it's getting pretty crazy up in here! Martha Stewart magazines will be my ruin. They join together in mountainous regions throughout my house, and whisper sweet craft hints and delicate cookie recipes to me in my slumber. I can't wait to have enough time to be half the person I want to be. I am constantly scribbling down notes for different ideas and plans. I hope to accomplish them. It would be quite a feat, to be sure.

Get Sconed!

2010-02-20T13:24:00.000-08:00

So excited for Scone Time!

Cranberry Buttermilk Scones! Delicious!

"Dude, I'm sooo sconed right now!"

This morning was Scone Morning. I arose, shuffled to the bookshelf, and like a happy child, got up on my tip toes and slid my hands around the dusty shelf until I found what I was in search of. Once Upon a Tart. It is one of my very favorite cookbooks to read through. So pretty and delicate. It makes me hope to open a small cafe someday, in the heart of Portland or Colorado, or some such lovely city of beautiful seasons. I made a decision on buttermilk cranberry scones, checked my refrigerator supply, and luckily found some questionable cranberries, which I decided not to ask myself the age of. It was such a lovely event, making these scones. I felt like a pioneer mother, whipping up some hearty breakfast for the youngins'. I listened to Yann Tiersen, and Belle and Sebastian, and it was quite comforting. I am starting to feel much better, and am excited to get back to the workload ahead of me. Anyhow, here are some photographs of the morning sconey scurries. Enjoy!

In my time of illness...

2010-02-19T14:07:00.001-08:00

I have fallen deeply in love with chromolithography....

Dear lunch,

2010-02-19T12:25:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry that I've been disregarding you. I'm not feelin' so hot. You just don't understand me so well lately. We're different. You weren't what I wanted, what I needed. Today, though, I saw you sitting there, atop the microwave, hidden in your pretty little wrapper, titled Jasmine Rice, and I have to admit, you looked rather fine. I noticed you leaning over the refrigerator shelf, tipping your lid to me, in your curry sauce way. I couldn't resist you, as you tossed yourself together, and ran through a fine mist of fresh ground pepper and sea salt, finally landing into a well-prepared glass bowl, and slyly nudging a spoon in my direction. What was I thinking? I miss you so....I'll be seeing you tomorrow as well. Does 12:30 work for you? Why don't you wear that cute little falafel and pita bread combo that I like so much. You know the one... Love, Mac

A Fairly Recent Endeavor

2010-01-19T13:24:00.000-08:00

Brian and I felt it high time to renew our passes to the Wild Animal Park and San Diego Zoo and get out there, into the wild. Brian dressed in his normal clothing. I dressed, in full garb, as a tourist. This included knee socks, fanny pack, islandy-shirt with compass pins, safari hat, birkenstock-esque sandals, hikers backpack with umbrella, khaki high waisted shorts, camera, a star guide neck bandanna, and a childlike sense of wonder. At nearly every photo opportunity, I shoved the camera in Brian's face and told him to take photos of me. It was a fun day. I came home with a few animal keychains, some squashed pennies, a t-shirt which reads "I'm a keeper!" and a giraffe face mask. All in all, a great way to spend a rainy day.

Monday Funday

2010-01-19T10:26:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, in non-celebration of Dr. King's non-birthday, I joined two ridiculously amazing fellows on a journey to Los Angeles. Sam drove and Alex and I pointed out interesting and hilarious signs and billboard proclamations. We hit up Amoeba, and eventually, I took a lone stroll through the neighboring areas, as the boys skimmed the fatty goodness off of the buttermilk of Amoeba, for a good two hours, mind you. It was quite pleasant; a little rainy, and I must say, I have never been proposed to quite so many times in one day, by the plethora of homeless males and females who hid beneath the eves of every possible storefront, attempting to miss each and every goutte de pluie. One rotund little man, who suspiciously resembled Santa Claus, gazed at me warmly, and as I smiled back, he jumped on the chance of fishing for my phone number and whistling, and mentioning other non-mentionables. At least I "look mighty fine TODAY." At any rate, I found my way back to Amoeba, that intimidating world of fine musical collections and many a fashion statement to be made, and after a few more rustlins' and bustlins' of records, the boys made their purchases, and we sauntered out into the daylight. We bee-lined it to Fullerton, where Alex showed us a little history of his educational upbringings, and an amazing little restaurant called Rutabegorz. The innards reminded me of a little italian restaurant that I've always found quite endearing. I was quite jealous of a bit of wall art which we came across, this being a small table with an ideal breakfast set up adorning it's surface, open books included. Well, we chatted and chattered and chewed, and it was all very lovely. As the boys aren't very fond of photographs being taken of them, I snatched up what I could, and these are a few of the results. Good day, indeed.

Thoughts...

2010-01-01T23:44:00.000-08:00

I feel like I'm finally finding my nitch in the ladder. I am on my way, at the very least. At one point, and still quite often, I found my outward personality a bit of a nuisance. I'm not a terrible person by any means, but I've been annoying myself fairly often, and it's been bothersome in many ways to me, personally. I feel like I try to be too many people; I'm constantly changing dependent on whose company I'm in, attempting to be the people-pleaser, the friend to all. I've found myself to be somewhat loud and obnoxious at times, perhaps attempting to impress others, or force them to hear my observations, and hee-haw laughter, but recently I feel as if I am finally getting back to the soul of Mikala, of what I truly am. I'm not always jumping into conversations anymore. I am finding time to read, and to do puzzles. I am listening to more music than ever, and riding my bicycle to the beat of a sparrow's wings. I am becoming more of an individual, and enjoying my own presence rather than clinging to those of others. It's peaceful, and allows me to think about what I really want, or expect, out of myself and life, what characteristics I intend to embody. I am certainly not at total ease with myself at this point, but I am getting more comfortable with myself, and with my ideals in life. I am my own friend and I am happy when we're together.

If I Ever Marry...

2009-12-30T11:43:00.000-08:00

Did you hear that?

2009-12-27T21:24:00.000-08:00

That, my friend, is the sound of lovely plans, in the very early stage of the birthing process. Plans which include visiting an old adobe in my hometown. Plans which include venturing out to this once humble abode (don't be confused by the switching b's and d's), and photographing like never before. There isn't much to these plans, but they are special to me. They have been eating at me for some time now, whispering sweet nothingnesses in my ears. I've been there once before, in the kind old days of first grade, when Taylor Waters was the coolest tomboy in school, and I found jealousy in Gage Weaver's talent at the seat of a piano. I am constantly reminded; the old sign by the freeway, having been replaced by some "Jesus is #1" nonsense, once having proclaimed the existence of a hidden waterfall in the valleys of Vista. Who could have thought? It's up to me to find this treasure, and enjoy it for all those who'll never know it's pleasures. I just might wear a flouncy skirt, and bring along a picnic blanket, some sweet tunes, and a journal to hide my thoughts in. With luck, it will happen on the morrow. Until then, I'll only dream of it.

Henry,

2009-12-20T14:03:00.000-08:00

You're an asshole.

And yet, I read on.

Cussin' Good.

2009-12-04T16:31:00.000-08:00

Fantastic Mr. Fox really was fantastic. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that I've been infatuated with Roald Dahl since the age of five, or because of my interest in stop-motion animation, or because of the fact that Wes Anderson, Bill Murray, Jason Schwartzman, Willem Dafoe, Meryl Streep and George Clooney were involved with it, or perhaps because of all of these things, stirred up in a vat of pure appeal; but this movie really blew my socks off. Sockless, I wander the streets, still convinced that this was the best film I've seen all year.

Highlights:
-"I don't have a bandit mask, but I modified this tube sock."
-"We look good."
-"Yeah. We do."

"I can fit through there...You wanna know why? ... Because I'm LITTLE."

Clay Jarvis Cocker cameo. ("I was just kind of making it up as I go along...")

Rat. Is it strange that I am slightly attracted to a pencil-thin claymation rat character, played by Willem Dafoe? God, I hope not.

Prrrease to help the planet.

2009-11-30T15:31:00.000-08:00

Pure Necessity

2009-11-26T08:45:00.001-08:00

Happy T(of)urkey Day!

This would be perfect for the mantle...

2009-10-27T21:37:00.000-07:00

Truly difficult; that's how it has been for me to pull myself away from the local antique stores of late. I have been imagining my future living habitations, and I can hardly keep myself from snatching up little nifties and photographs to adorn those welcoming walls. This past weekend, I went to a friend's birthday dinner, in her new house, which she had just the day prior, moved into. It was lovely. Very relaxed and cheery. The kitchen was just as I had imagined someday inhabiting, cozy, with vintage cooking utensils and seeming relics adorning the walls, as if they were appreciated on a daily basis. There was a breakfast nook, and tea lights (sunken into delicate glass teacups) strewn about in a few select places throughout the house and yard. There were twinkle lights of all nationality, hidden amidst the branches of the shady trees. It was a beautiful set-up, and it made me jealous to think of all of the relaxing evenings which must be spent there, and all of the light bugs who must happily make their summerly visits.

[A highlight of the evening was surely the ice-cream cake on which was written (for our Australian friend), "America, Fuck Yeah!"]

Gimme Gimme.

2009-10-27T19:49:00.001-07:00

Lately, I've been listening to heaps of the good old jazz days, drifting into dreamlike states, wishing I had been there to drink it all in, to hear the trumpets, feel the sweet sounds of pure music swim 'round me. We seemed to understand things better then. We went dancing. We appreciated the simple pleasures in life. We played music as a sense of expression of the current issues, rather than a mere beatbox tune to snap your fingers to. There was feeling back then. There was life. There was rhythm and blues. Wasn't there?

This is the place where my dreams come from.

2009-10-19T14:46:00.000-07:00

(So very excited.)

And you!

2009-10-12T09:05:00.000-07:00

Fixin' for a ride.

2009-10-12T08:52:00.000-07:00

I underwent a wondrous naptime last night. I can't recall my dreams, but they must have been splendid. I slept in my warm coat, and awoke to the coziest of feelings. Today: Pumpkin Patch Picking, a lazy bicycle stroll, reading, and work celebrations of the day on which Columbus claimed "motherlicker" status. I've been watching the Mighty Boosh. I'd really like to head down to San Diego and spend the day riding around, stopping in at intriguing shoppes and cafes, photographing, etc., but I haven't the time. Next weekend. Promise. And a visit to the little mongrel, Baja. Oh, how I miss that little dog wisdom.

Facenastics!

2009-10-05T11:57:00.000-07:00

The rest of me may get old and flabby, but my facial guns will live on.

Change is in the wind.

2009-10-05T11:28:00.000-07:00

I'm really not digging the voice of this blog, as of yet. It sounds all too attemptedly elegant and cheesy-peesy. Let's get a little more raw and cultish, shall we?

Thanks kid!

2009-10-02T17:36:00.000-07:00

Today, I was driving home from class, feeling pretty dandy about the weather being so blustery and splendid. I was sitting in a line of cars and, being the curious human that I am, I found myself scanning the faces in the adjacent vehicles. My panoramic gaze stopped short on the face of a smiling little black kid, probably ten or eleven. His face was squeezed between his seatbelt and the window, as he tried to look back at me from his position in the front seat. His brother was sitting in the back seat, probably a little older. Being the weirdo that I am, I made a face at the former taking advantage of one of my many hidden talents. He started laughing hysterically, and then dropped coyly underneath the window. I pretended to forget, and took a swig of water as I saw him creep up, eyes first, from his hiding place. When I looked again, he was wearing a mile-wide smile, and waving. I waved back vigorously, excited about this new secret friendship. This went on for quite a while, as I passed them, and vice versa. Finally, our paths began to split, and as I glanced over my shoulder, I saw his little hands pop out of the window, shaking with fervor as we exchanged a last blow fish face and laughter on both our parts. It may sound corny but it's amazing how good I feel now! I really wish that it didn't take a child's mindset to make eye contact with a stranger. C'mon guys, it's a new generation. "We will prevail."

I have a girl crush on Audrey Tautou.

2009-09-26T09:03:00.000-07:00

Fancy a cycle?

2009-09-25T18:16:00.000-07:00

Oh, to join in.

Fall, won't you be my neighbor?

2009-09-14T10:43:00.000-07:00

As it is nearing that time of year, my thoughts are consistently turning their attention towards Julian. It's the place I'll miss most, when I leave. It's tradition, and it brings a sense of harmonious calm, and comfort, when I think of the brisk, chill air, the wind in the russet-colored leaves, and the familiar faces of the local elderly folk who endure, day-in and day-out, the many tourists who draw near for that fine apple pie and a temporary mental dismissal of reality.

Fall is my favorite time of year. It boasts, humbly, of sweet, savory smells, blustery winds and coats and scarves of warm and endearing colors. It makes me think of Winnie the Pooh, and teases me with the wish for memories of FDR's fireside chats and the crackling of old radios as hundreds listened to the warmth of his benevolent voice. I ache for one of my grandfather's soft, gentle hugs as we curled up together on his sofa chair, him reading an old western aloud, and I (a child of five) listening to the age and wisdom which rang clearly throughout his sweet, old-man voice. I can't stop thinking about him, and the opportunities I've lost, in hearing the sound of his voice ring true once more.

Film nights are the best of all nights.

2009-09-14T10:01:00.000-07:00

Let's be reasonable.

2009-09-09T16:44:00.000-07:00

I could never get up the nerve to do it myself, but if ever someone is ingenious enough to purchase one of these for me, I should be forever content. Everyone could use a nice pillow companion!

I don't always watch music videos, but when I do, I prefer Oren Lavie.

2009-08-27T14:55:00.000-07:00

Flying t-shirts and swimming socks?

Okay, I am pretty sure that this is how I dream.

Daffodils

2009-08-25T05:53:00.000-07:00

I read this in class yesterday, and underwent immediate transformation into the life of a happier and more content individual. Wordsworth, there's no way you weren't a ladies man.

"Daffodils"

[Willie Wordsworth]

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they

Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;

A poet could not be but gay,

In such a jocund company!

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

Support The Cause

2009-08-21T22:26:00.000-07:00

Ah, memories!

2009-08-20T16:28:00.000-07:00

This movie is, quite possibly, the best film that I have ever experienced. No matter the age I continue to climb towards, I shall never tire of it. I am quite convinced that, if given the chance, I would watch it daily.

Epic Fail.

2009-08-20T06:13:00.000-07:00

High points in my life are handed over to me in the guise of sudden realizations and simplistic accomplishments. I truly cannot express the extreme and overwhelming joy that I receive upon unraveling a silly license plate scramble. This process is somewhat dangerous for me, in the driving sense, as I become utterly enthralled and can, quite easily, lose sudden control over certain brain functionings. Upon sighting a complicated license plate, typically Californian, I am struck. I creep forward, suddenly aware that the driver may be examining my thought processes in silent observance. I begin to sound every possible phrase or accronym out, and typically am able to accomplish my goal and continue in my daily life before the driver is out of view. It is only times like that of Tuesday night, when I am completely and utterly stumped; when I come close to following the driver home in order to uncover the mystery which may haunt my entire being. For who, indeed, drives around Vista in a construction-esque truck with the license plate: I Y R U. The driver made a right, and it took all of my common decency and moral upbringing to spring forth from me in order to not follow course. Instead, I raced home, not wanting to waste a single second of this opportunity to discover life's meaning in the form of a Vistan's license plate. I hopped online and made a search. This is what I found, and it is ever so dissapointing: International Yacht Racing Union. No deep meaning, absolutely no connection with the vehicle, no accomplishment on my part. My life feels empty and pointless. And so, it is without further ado, that I step out into sunlight, in search of a new and exciting (worthwhile) license plate. Goodbye, my friends, for the quest is on!

Okay Farfel, Get Your Shoes On!

2009-08-05T11:02:00.000-07:00

Unlike Jerry, I'm really gonna miss this little fart.

A bit o' history:

Missing:

2009-07-26T02:08:00.000-07:00

One friend (female, blonde, sisterly). May be spotted: driving uniquely, photographing a really neat Belgian cat, or quite possibly, scribbling a letter to her dear, and lonely, sister. If found, please bind and gag her, and send her back to me. We need some sister time.

Moonlight Masquerade

2009-07-09T13:44:00.000-07:00

Last night, I ventured out around midnight, setting off on my "typical midnight ride," as I have cleverly named it. The streets were silent, lamps dimly lit and the only sounds to be heard were the occasional clankings and thrummings of the arthritic bones of my bicycle, as we made our voyage across the sea of common speedbumps and roadkill. I breathed deeply, expecting a warm mixture of sage and cool summer breeze to fill my lungs, but was met instead with the overwhelming scent of society's poor standards: motor fumes, garbage "waft-age" and a bit of old meat. Pedaling, ever faster, to avoid a head-on collision with humanity, I came upon a creature whom I had never seen face-to-face before. It was darkly colored, with a thin wisp of white, painted across its back. It scurried from one curb to the other, as I swung accidentally into its path; tail risen, it loaded it's venomous darts. In sudden realization of this strange creature, I swerved wildly, in hopes of dodging its scented bullets. Luckily I averted the trouble, as it was never seen again, most likely having hurled itself into the tall grasses which are my neighbors weeds.

I rode on, filled with gratitude as well as splendor, for being one so fortunate to have experienced this creature's often smelled, but rarely spotted presence. Coming to a fork in the rode, I started off one way, but upon looking back, saw what seemed to be another furry little critter who appeared quite mesmerized by the glorious moon above us. It looked not in my direction, but rather towards the stars, and as I slowly turned to befriend it, it hopped off, a few feet at a time, stopping every moment or so to take in, once more, the sight of that resplendent midnight sun. As I rode past, deciding to not disturb the little fellow, I fell into a happy crevice of life. It was peaceful, simple and noted as a night to remember for the independence of the soul. May it live on.