Confession: sometimes I’m a brat. This is totally true. Sometimes I’m sleepy, my eyelids are heavy and I just want my way, like, right now.
Currently, if I could get my way in all things life, this is how it’d go:
1. More hours in the day for me to work and say hi to friends.
2. I’d be able to drink copious amount of gin without having an awful hangover face. I can’t swing it–not a youngin’ anymore, guys. Depressing.
3. I’d drink coffee at 9pm and still be in bed by midnight. I’m totally not sensitive to caffeine at 8am, but it ruins me after 6pm. Truly unfair.
4. At Chipotle I’d be able to assemble my very own burrito. They’re very nice people at Chipotle but I just wanna do it myself.
When I’m sensing my brattiness is taking over my usual good and positive nature, I gotta put myself in check. ‘Cause seriously look at what I made! Look at what I have had in my life! Crispy hash browns! With cheese! All topped with a runny egg. Such a good look!
I like to think that galettes are like lazy, messy, casual pies. You only sorta have to roll them out. You only sorta have to make them look pretty. But really, the messier the better. It’s about the easy.
I can’t really think of a meal of the day where easy is most welcomed than on a cold, hazy January morning.
Let’s have pie for breakfast. But let’s leave the fruit for the summer. It’s January. So, pie…with runny eggs, lots of cheese and salty bacon.
Do you wear perfume? What do you smell like? Is this a personal question? Prolly. I think it is.
I usually don’t like the smell of perfume; I just dig the smell of soap. But, for the past two weeks I’ve been thinking that maybe–since I’m a grown woman now–I should smell like something other than laundry detergent. You know, like, have a scent.
So I’ve been on the search. I’ve smelled a lot. Tested a lot. Sneezed a lot. Been grossed out by most. Too much perfume can be like nose pollution. It’s invasive. Don’t be invasive with your perfume–that’s just rude.
The one that I love over and over and over…the one I can’t get enough of: Chanel No. 5. Totally classic and pretty. Makes me feel like a lady. I can for sure picture myself as a grandma, with my wrinkly hands and gaudy broaches (plan on wearing those), smelling like it.
This week mini-life lessons were just flying all around me. Wanna hear ’em?! Of course you.
1. If you go to the movies with a boy and he ends up eating ALL of your Sour Patch Kid–that you specifically wanted to buy yourself so you didn’t have to share–and you find yourself annoyed, he’s not the right dude for you. You should WANT to share your Sour Patch Kids, you know?!
2. I just watched Clueless for the bajillioninth time and just realized it came out in 1995…WHAT?! That’s SO long ago. How is it still so amazing?! How are the clothes still relevant?! How do I STILL know practically every line in that movie?!
3. I call my mom too much. The woman has been out of the country for a week and I’ve reached for my phone to text/call her, like, a million times. It makes me feel like an orphan. So now I just email incessantly. And I’ve tried to call my dad to talk…but he just presses ignore, I think.
4. Don’t get addicted to those San Pellegrino Aranciata orange soda things. I’ve bought two six-packs in the past two days and now I’m kinda poor. Don’t go poor because soda. That’s just silly. Everyone knows if you’re gonna go poor because of anything it should be because of shoes.
5. Sweet potatoes aren’t yams. But yams are sweet potatoes. WHAT?! Good gracious, USDA, do you understand how confusing you’re making me/the entire country?
I keep notebooks. Do you keep notebooks? Where else am I supposed to keep random thoughts? I can’t post EVERYTHING that’s going on in my brain on Twitter. That’d be just wrong. And scary.
So I keep notebooks. Despite the weirdness (and embarrassment) of what goes on in my brain, I’m not too worried about someone finding them–since they’re nearly impossible to read. My typically neat and girly handwriting transforms into incomprehensible scribble, pages are re-used over and over, and the entire thing reads like one strange grocery list.
It’s true, I like lists. Sunday morning I got up abnormally early (read: 7am)–which basically means I’m turning into my father–and I decided to just write stuff down. Stuff I like. Stuff I don’t like. Sort of simple, no? Yeah, nothing too deep; I’m not that complicated.
Current brain/feelings likes and dislikes are flowing like this:
1. Like: Making a list. Crossing it off. Completion is so satisfying. Succeeding at simple things just never gets old. 2. Dislike: Having that nagging thing on the list, not doing it and putting it on the next day’s list. Like, DMV stuff or basically anything that requires a call to someone that will involve being put on hold. When are we gonna be able to email the government, anybody?