One Step at a Time

I just made "Cold Avocado Soup" from my recipe book, and it seriously took me five minutes!! Now it just needs to chill in the fridge for a few hours. Man, this cooking thing is awesome. I haven't mentioned it, but back in February, I made my very first quiche. Quiche is B's specialty; last year for my birthday I specifically requested he make one because we hadn't had it in so long. Well, now I make my own, and I've made about seven or eight ever since then! I mean, this is seriously my very first real cooked dish! I've only ever made eggs and sandwiches, nothing that involved baking or whatever. I even took pictures of my quiche; I was so proud. But I can't find the charger for my camera right now, and it won't turn on, so I'm just using a stock pic I found off the internet.


So after five months of repeating (but not yet perfecting) and devouring the same dish, I finally decided to get on trying something new. A couple of weeks ago, I tried making "Open-Faced Crab Sandwiches," but the crab mix turned out God-awful. Come to think of it, it's still sitting there in the fridge. Oops. Anyway, I just now made the soup, and tomorrow I'm attempting my first pasta: bow-tie with shrimp and pesto. I personally would've preferred linguine or fettuccine, but since I'm new to this whole "making your own food" thing, I'm going to stick to the recipe. Our beautiful kitchen is actually more useful than just being aesthetically pleasing. Who knew?!

Free Your Mind

Suh-weet! I just found a deal for a one year subscription (6 issues 'cause it's bimonthly) price of $17.95 to Mental Floss--and my last issue (pictured) just came in the mail yesterday. It says it's a limited time offer, but this post was from 2006, and the link still works. This magazine is so worth it! The two times I've brought a copy up to the salon, it was stolen within two days. Even Trang loves it, and she's one of those solely US Weekly and People bitches. Check out their blog some time; it's a great indication of the type and tone of articles you receive in the mag. Three recent articles I found noteworthy (among many) are "Mutual Funds to Match Your Lifestyle" (link), "7 Imposters" (link), and "7 Works of Art That Are Taking a Beating" (link). Because this is where knowledge junkies get their fix.

Shut Up

Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind doth move
Silently, invisibly.

I told my love, I told my love,

I told her all my heart,

Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears.

Ah! she did depart!

Soon after she was gone from me,

A traveller came by,

Silently, invisibly:

He took her with a sigh.

-Love's Secret, by William Blake

The Impression That I Get

My only prior exposure to Henry James was Daisy Miller: A Study, practically a requirement in every English Lit anthology. I didn't find it anything too special, so I wasn't expecting much from The Portrait of a Lady, hailed by many as his greatest masterpiece. Yeah. How can I put this? His writing is entirely extraordinary. I could sit here and gush for hours about how his way with words is exquisitely eloquent and magnificently molded. If you're more about substance than style, this is not the book for you. James wrote in over 600 pages a story which arguably could be told in less than 100. It's as if he took a small subplot from a more complex storyline, and diluted it with dreamy details and diaphanous descriptions. Even more infuriating for the average reader, it's like he then decided there was no point in providing a proper conclusion to the subplot, since it was part of a much larger tale anyway. So be warned, it's one of those open-ended stories. I've almost always loathed those, but this time I was so in awe of the author that I barely minded.


I really don't think I've ever encountered his style of writing before. The entire time I was reading it, a persistent metaphor kept popping into my head: an impressionist painting. It's a little lame to say, and I don't know why I kept thinking that--it's not like I'm an art connoisseur. But you know how Monet's vanilla skies are all gorgeously hazy and luminously blurred, intent on offering an impression instead of a sharp picture? That's how Henry James writes! Instead of saying, "Well, he turned out to be very different from what she first believed," he writes, "In that sense, that of the love of harmony and order and decency and of all the stately offices of life, she went with him freely, and his warning had contained nothing ominous. But when, as the months had elapsed, she had followed him further and he had led her in to the mansion of his own habitation, then, then she had seen where she really was." Oh, baby. Just you wait! This introspective inspection continues for many, many more pages. But if you can stare at Monet's lush landscapes for hours, don't be surprised if you fall for the wondrous works of Henry James.

Claude Monet, Woman with a Parasol, 1875

Enjoy the Silence

B is currently in Europe for the next three weeks. He's sort of playing this excursion by ear, but most likely it's Paris, Ireland, possibly Birmingham, a quick visit to the fam in Belgium, Malta, and finally Spain. I. Am. So. Jealous. If the Malta trip goes through, he will be staying a couple nights at the The Westin and then a couple nights at The Hilton--both five-star resorts. And since this is for work, everything is on the company tab. For the past couple of weeks leading up to this, I'd constantly whine, "I want to goooo...!!" His reply? "Maybe if you were my girlfriend!" Bastard.

The Westin Dragonara Resort

What sets this outing apart from the others, besides the fact that he'll be frolicking in an uber lux Mediterranean paradise, is that we've decided to cut off all contact. Keep in mind that B and I are total communication whores. Ever since we got together, there have been exactly five days when we didn't speak at all to one another (yes, shut up, I keep track). Well, that excludes his trip to Brazil in 2005, and last Christmas when he was in a remote Swiss cabin. We abuse our mobile-to-mobile minutes, typically speaking five times a day, although it reduces to one or two times when he's abroad. Yeah, that includes this whole time that we've been broken up. Once he was spanked by his boss for calling me too much overseas, tallying up the company cell phone bill to $2000. We talk on the phone on the way to one another's places, and then get on the phone immediately upon leaving each other's place.

The Hilton Malta

It might sound nuts to most people, but I love it. However, I suggested a talking break because I really think it'd be good for us. What triggered it was B's last work trip two weeks ago, when he was in Mexico. We spent most of our time arguing and feeling crappy. I do not need a repeat of that. Plus, it'll give us time to miss each other! I wanted to do this for the entire three weeks, but Bernard made a good point that he's going to have to call me when he's with his family, or else they'll wonder what's up with us. Plus I still have to give him my shopping list, teehee. Foie gras, chocolate, souvenir mugs (I've started a collection, funded by B), an oiled up Mediterranean man, candy, and Spanish salami. Oomf.

Images of Malta

Oh yeah, and Isaac and I aren't on speaking terms for the moment, and over something really stupid, too. I'm just going to give a quick summary; otherwise my blood will start boiling over it again. (I admit it; one of my many faults is that I can't debate without getting emotionally involved. Trust me, it sucks.) Basically, he completely overreacted and started going off on me over the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. No, scratch that. That's giving the guy waaaay too much credit. He went off on me because I sent him a link (this one) to an article about a 70 year old Palestinian shepherd and his 58 year old wife getting the crap beat out of them by four Jewish assholes. Look, I don't care what ethnicity you are; if you're wielding bats to elderly goat herders, you are a fucking asshole. He could have been rational and said, "Wow, that's awful, but you have to understand that..." and pleaded his case. Instead, he started spewing a whole bunch of racist shit about Arabs, ranted about the BBC's preferential views of Palestine, insisted he had zero sympathy for the victims (that's attractive), and told me off for being biased and affronting his people. Unbelievable! Yeah, I'm just gonna end this now because this might lead to me ranting about how idiotic and close-minded he is, which'll probably lead to me generalizing all conservatives, which'll make me no better than Isaac, that idiotic and close-minded conservative!!

Time to Pretend

Faceinhole.com is a nifty little website where you can put someone's face, well, in a hole. (Unfortunately, the hole I'm referring to neither smells nor oozes. I know, those are my favorite, too!) I love the surprisingly easy functionality, the numerous templates ranging from sexy to silly, and the thorough amusement provided--despite the whole thing being an absolute waste of time. That's Bernard in both of the examples displayed. I also took the liberty of replacing Angelina Jolie with my cheesy mug. Yeah. You're welcome. You never had it so good!

Damaged

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were — I have not seen
As others saw — I could not bring
My passions from a common spring —
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow — I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone —
And all I lov’d — I lov’d alone —
Then — in my childhood — in the dawn
Of a most stormy life — was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still —
From the torrent, or the fountain —
From the red cliff of the mountain —
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold —
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by —
From the thunder, and the storm —
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view —

-Alone, by Edgar Allan Poe

Wear You Out

LR Delia Snakeskin in Taupe $430

Loeffler Randall has recently branched out into boots and clothing, but what really started it all for the brand were the beautifully crafted, astronomically priced flats. One pair could cut you back 300+ dollars, but when you'd slip one on, you'd feel where that money goes (lining the pockets of the smirking company, duh). Then you'd cry into your Forever 21 shopping bag because paying that much for shoes that don't even have a 24K gold stiletto heel or splashy red soles just hurts. Which is why I've never owned any of their stuff. Until Target!

Thank you, Target. Thank you for your brilliant Go International campaign, for putting cheap fabrics into the hands of world-famous designers to make attire for the regular folks. You have brought fashion to the poor, ugly masses, and for that, we are eternally grateful. And now, it gets even better. Because Target's Loeffler Randall collection, already cheap from the start, is currently 75% off. Oh, happy day!

These satchels were originally priced at $49.99. Now, they're only $12.49! I ordered both colors, and I'm just going to keep one. I'll probably give the other one to my mom. For a rich lady, she tends to walk around lugging plastic bags like the world's a perpetual flea market. This should spice up her outfit a bit, and it's probably cheaper than some of those hideously printed fabric bags she carries on occasion!

I bought those black ballet flats full price when this collection first debuted, and I haven't even worn them yet! I should've just waited, because they've dropped from $29.99 to $7.49. So with that in mind, I had to order the pink pair on the bottom. I love them. I love them! I don't care if B hates flats! Seven forty-nine! I should buy more, but I'm being realistic here. I bought the black pair back in January and haven't worn them, so I'm not going to go crazy with all the different colors and styles. I'll leave that to you.

Last but not least, all the clutches are now $4.99, instead of $19.99. Five freakin' dollars for some of the cutest stuff ever! But the only one I indulged in was the woven clutch in cream, which I'll probably return because the reviews aren't that great, and I've never seen them in person at the store. We'll see how it goes when everything arrives in the mail. Go spoil yourselves with some $7 flats, bitches!

Shake It Off

I just returned from spending the day hanging out with Isaac and Pumpkin. I decided that I had to break things off; to keep seeing each other would be pointless and somewhat detrimental. Our beliefs are at complete opposite ends of the spectrum--he's a hardcore, conservative Jew who supports the war and thinks global warming is a hoax, while I'm a bleeding liberal/pacifist who scorns organized religion and digs through trash for bits to recycle. He's a neat-freak to the OCD degree; I'm a sheepish slob. He takes dozens of vitamins a day and is a gym buff; I consider fast food a dietary staple and hardly ever move from bed. I'm surprised we tolerated one another for as long as we did. Plus, the guy has been living in LA and has no social life; the only real new friend he has made is me. One friend. In six months. Having me around is seriously preventing him from breaking out of his loner tendencies to make connections with new people. I really hope that this'll motivate him to go out and mingle!

That being said, Isaac really is a wonderful guy. He handled the demise of our dating like a champ. Sure, it's a bit early to say, but I really think we'll be able to stay good friends. (Then again, I'm always naively optimistic in these situations.) If you can stomach his political stance, or even, God forbid, uphold them, then you've got yourself a catch. He's an affectionate sweetheart, a dork complete with corny but funny jokes, an animal lover (he's so good to Pumpkin), an ambitiously hard worker, a knowledgeable history buff (these photos were taken while he was answering my query of why such anti-Semitic views exist--a daunting question to undertake!), an expert with computers, and a caring and helpful friend. He speaks fluent Russian, writes extremely well, talks to his grandmothers on a nearly daily basis, and has a degree from UCSC in Islamic History. He's awesome...just not the one for me. If anyone's interested, holla and I will hook it up!

Haha, in that last pic, Pumpkin did a lick and run. Man, so I guess I'm pretty much single right now! It feels...nice? Look, don't expect eloquence and profundity from a post written at 2am after a somewhat emotionally draining event. I guess I made it sound all breezy, but I really had to muster up a lot of courage to finally blurt out my feelings. Break-ups are never easy, but this one was the smoothest one ever. What a relief! Happy Cinco de Mayo! I'm freeeeeeeeeee!!

L.E.S. Artistes

Ok, let's see how many blogs I can squeeze in right now. If I can do one more after this one, I'll feel pretty accomplished. I really should be showering 'cause I'm durty-durty, but B hasn't called yet so I think he's still getting drunk at McCormick & Schmick's happy hour. Anyway, remember my blog about Shopbop's amazing sale, and how I was supposed to get all up on that? I didn't end up buying anything from there! However, what I did manage to procure makes me 10x happier than any dress that would've hung up in my closet for eons.

See, what happened was, I really couldn't decide which color of the KZ dress to buy. So I called up B's European, fashion-conscious ass, because I value his opinion. He was in Ireland at the time, but luckily right by his laptop. Well, he proceeded to just bitch me out. "What is this?! It's so ugly! It looks like a curtain! There's no form to it at all! Why do you always insist on wearing fat girl clothes?! You cannot buy this." While I completely disagreed, and while I still think that dress is cute, I couldn't stomach purchasing it, knowing how much he hated it. After all, I haven't bought one stitch of brown clothing in the past three years because B deems the hue unflattering on me!

However, my disappointment dissipated when I checked my email right after we got off the phone. A few days earlier, I had made an inquiry to Gallery 1988 in San Francisco regarding their Stella Im Hultberg mini print set. I didn't think they would have any left, but the email reassured me that plenty were still available. I placed an order right then and there, before I could change my mind. I'm so stoked! I received four beautiful 4x5 prints for about $96 shipped:

Aren't they stunning?! They're signed and a limited edition of 500. I'm pretty sure there are some left, too! So, instead of clothes, I bought some art, and I'm pretty darn pleased with my purchase. I'm going to close out this post with a couple of my favorite pieces from her last solo show:

Lost Unfound

Vera

P.S. I Love You

Dre gave me this book last Christmas, Other People's Love Letters, which I believe she found in some artsy shop in San Francisco. The last book she gave me was Jenna Jameson's autobiography, so let's just say she knows how to pick 'em. When I finally opened it up, I happened to be PMSing. Bad move. I ended up bawling throughout most of it, and being in a pretty dark mood afterwards. For one thing, a good number of the "love" letters were actually breakup notes! "I dreamt about passing over this bridge so many times. I want you back so bad. Part of me is fighting for that. The other part is struggling to forget but wanting to remember the first time. In Detroit. I touched your face." Ok, so it isn't bloody Shakespeare, but it's enough to get a hormonal bitch going, ok?

The book covers a pretty wide and varied selection, ranging from horny little Post-It notes, to a handwritten letter from 1911, to harsh and wordy emails. But still, I closed it with the lingering feeling of dissatisfaction. It just wasn't nearly enough to cover the scope of something as grand as love, and I know I'm being unfair with such high expectations. But there is one thing pretty cool about my particular copy, though. You know how with the PostSecret books, there's a trend of people slipping in their own secrets on postcards in book stores? Somebody put a little note in this book! Unfortunately, they didn't complete it. So here's all I have, and I'll leave it open to interpretation:

Realize

Coming at an end, the lovers

Are exhausted like two swimmers. Where
Did it end? There is no telling. No love is
Like an ocean with the dizzy procession of the waves' boundaries
From which two can emerge exhausted, nor long goodbye
Like death.
Coming at an end. Rather, I would say, like a length
Of coiled rope
Which does not disguise in the final twists of its lengths
Its endings.
But, you will say, we loved
And some parts of us loved
And the rest of us will remain
Two persons. Yes,
Poetry ends like a rope.

-A Book of Music, by Jack Spicer

If I Had Eyes

When Isaac grabbed this book off his shelf to distract me while he did some work, he preambled it by stating, "My father gave it to me." Recalling that his dad is a doctor, I took one look at The Secret Family: Twenty-Four Hours inside the Mysterious World of Our Minds and Bodies and inwardly sighed. I knew this was going to be one of those excruciatingly boring human science books, the kind only medical students entering residency or super-nerds with thick glasses and no social lives eagerly devour. And while I may arguably fall into the latter category, I've always been the type of dweeb more focused on Shakespeare's severing clouds laced with envious streaks (Romeo and Juliet) than Gray's Anatomy (the text, not the TV series, which I bought and tried to read and failed miserably).

Anyway, it shouldn't be surprising that I was absolutely wrong about this book. After a somewhat asinine intro, the book jumped straight into jaw-dropping, fascinating, "for real? I had no idea!" territory. I kept reading aloud compelling passages to Isaac (who hasn't read about, oh, 99% of his book collection), and screeching, "Did you know that!? Isnt that crazy?!" The very first fact I encountered that piqued my interest was about what happens when a father's eyes meet his baby's gaze: "the tiny muscles controlling the pupils in the dad's eyes suddenly tug wider. Males who don't have children rarely show this universal sign of interest." However, it happens to most women, mothers or not. Then that led to a whole section on how baby food is prepared, which sparked both disbelief and horror. If this were truly the case, why hasn't there been more of an uproar about this? The stuff he describes warrants a massive reform akin to the one incited by Upton Sinclair's The Jungle in the early 20th century.

What was also really impressive was the book's collection of photographs. I had never seen any of them before, and they're truly stunning pictures revealing normal objects in a mindblowing point of view. The back of a smooth CD zoomed in so you see the nooks (bet you didn't know it had nooks!). A close-up of sweat droplets on the back of a hairy hand. A bed mite in its magnified glory, creeping and crawling and waiting to eat your dead skin cells. Ok, I can't find any of these pictures online, but luckily dust mites are pretty fascinating for most people and some other good pictures exist out there:

Ewwwwwww. Seriously, this book is awesome. You won't be sorry if you pick it up. But you might end up learning a few things that will make it a little harder to rub your face lovingly against your favorite pillow at night.

Don't Stop the Music

A quick blurb of songs that I'm completely fixated on at the moment:

Lil Wayne - Lollipop
When I first heard this, his first solo single in forever, I seriously was far from impressed. It barely even sounded like him! But then, after hearing it just once more, I became more addicted than Tyrone Biggums. Every time it comes on the radio, I start squealing. I love him. I really think he's amazingly talented. Sure, he's hideous, but who needs good looks when you've got a showstopping voice? (Marc Anthony's comparably fugly, and he impregnated JLo!) I'm going to be so sad next week when this song gets killed by radio overplay. Listen to this unique, irresistible jam on my "Feeling Frisky?" playlist on the right, or check out the music video on Youtube.

M83 - Kim & Jessie
I love this song! Besides my name being in the title, I also really think it's gorgeously fun, and quite different from their other moodily beautiful pieces. It has this 80's vibe, but the lush singing and lyrics add this magical quality to it. The CD just came out, and someone on Youtube made a video for it with scenes from Donnie Darko, so I'm going to provide it here.


Sun Kil Moon - Lost Verses
GOD. My favorite band ever, and Mark's back, baby. The last album was all covers of Modest Mouse songs (my favorite is the first one on my "Feeling Wistful" playlist, Neverending Math Equation), and while it was lovely, nothing compares to original Mark Kozelek lyrics:
'I see you well and clear
Deep in the moonlight, dear
Your radiant august eyes
They are the suns that rise
They are the light that guides
They are these lost verses'
This song, the opening track of their new CD, is absolutely stunning. This is classic Kozelek: haunting, hapless, and heartbreaking. I could only find it on their Myspace (it's the first song), since they never do music videos. But you have to be in the right mood to listen, and the right time. I'd say around midnight, surrounded by fog, while forlornly clutching a distant memory.

Stop and Stare

I've been a Shopbop fan for several years now. This is the first time I've seen them give out a code for an additional 30% off their sale items (30MORE). The true extent of this economy has just now fully hit me. Bear Stearns can go crashing down in value, the real estate market can implode, gas and food can rise to astronomical proportions--nope, it's all nothing compared to Shopbop trying desperately to liquidate their inventory. This isn't an April Fool's Day joke, people. It's real. It's happening. God help us.

Well, I'm going to do my part to fight this looming recession--by shopping! And I'm going to highlight some of the cutest stuff I found. However, in the interest of saving time and our wallets, I'm only showing items under $50. I know! Shopbop hardly ever has stuff under $50, and I managed to find a handful of adorable wares! Naturally, the nicest apparel is all still over $100, but I'm pretty impressed with being able to find a satisfactory selection in such a low price range. These things go fast though, so don't be surprised if everything is sold out by the time you start searching. Oh, and free shipping! Gotta love that!

C&C California Tonal Dots Bold Tank: Yes, just a basic tank top but with polka dots! I heart polka dots, so much that I can almost comprehend why Damien Hirst's spot paintings can command over a million bucks apiece, despite the fact that the guy has done almost a thousand of them! But I digress. $48 $16.80

Parballe Keyhole Tee: I really dig this t-shirt! It's not cute enough to justify the original retail price, but it comes close. The metallic print rocks, and I adore extra touches like the embroidered keys on the upper back of the tee. The semi-sheer quality is nice too. $99 $20.79

Miki Tanaka Square Rings: Aren't these gorgeous? I never buy jewelry because I'm prone to losing them within 24 hours, but this is really tempting. I love how unique they are; they seem both delicately wrought and solidly designed. My favorite is the one that dangles, but that shit would snap off in no time. I have really bad luck when it comes to keeping around my accessories. $176 $36.96 (#2)

KZ Jersey Drape Cowl Neck Dress: Oomf. Last Christmas, I helped Phil pick out a KZ dress for Jade, one that I absolutely adored. Then in February, it went on sale. I mulled for twenty minutes, and it sold out under my very nose. While this dress isn't as cute as the one that got away, I do like it, and I'll be damned if I let it get sold out again! But I can't decide what color! Green isn't really my hue, but it looks so good on the model that it's fooling me into believing I could pull it off. I love the gray, but it's spring now! Decisions, decisions. $187 $39.27

T-Bags Solid Turtleneck Open Back Mini Dress: T-Bags usually has some crazy prints going on with their clothes, stuff a boring person such as myself can never wear. So it's a pleasant surprise to see they've made what would be a basic closet staple (turtleneck dress), but with a sexy twist. While I love the concept of open back apparel, I don't own any such items. Why not? Because I like being able to comfortably wear a bra. I don't want to have to go out and buy those bras that paste to each boob. Still, every time I see bare-back stuff, I want it. $202 $42.42

Mr. Pink Eyes

A couple of weeks ago, Bernard had one of the "gnarliest" cases of pink eye anyone I know has ever seen. He seriously looked like one of the infected from 28 Days Later. It started in one eye, and soon traveled to the other one. It was pretty gross. I mean, I've had conjunctivitis in the past, but it always went away overnight. Who knew that pink eye could fester in the retinas for an average of 7-10 days?! Plus, the eye usually displays a somewhat rosy hue, hence the name. B's eyes were a demonic, glowing shade of crimson.

Hollywood movie magic eyes

Over the weekend, he was supposed to go out with his friends, but nixed the idea. I thought he was overreacting--but then again, I chose to stay in because my skin was super pimply, so who was I to criticize? Then I saw the damage myself, heard his stories of public reaction, and acknowledged his legitimacy for isolation. I mean, his coworkers were recoiling in horror all week, while his roommates made some really funny mean comments. In another instance, he went to the store to buy stuff, and the cashier refused to bag his items! Poor baby! I couldn't help laughing at him even as I shuddered and demanded he look away every time he flashed his pulsating peepers in my direction. We ended up staying in all weekend and watching three movies (Gone Baby Gone, Michael Clayton, and Eastern Promises--all amazing and I highly recommend them).

infected in real life eyes

See, I told you. Gross. But he's fully recovered now. For a moment there, I kept insisting that it couldn't possibly be pink eye, because it was so intense. He said he'd wake up and his lids would be stuck together from all the shit his eyes would ooze throughout the night. Sexy! Whatever, don't feel too bad for him; the jerk has been clowning on my face ever since I started breaking out all hardcore (for a couple of months now). It could be karma for dumping him, haha. But seriously, what is going on!? I hit puberty over a decade ago! I would try a new skin care routine, but the last time I did that, Murad's Acne Complex fucked up my skin so badly that I swore to never cheat on Proactiv Solution again. I think it's calming down a bit, so I'll stick to it for another few months (especially since I just bought a new kit, haha). I suppose having a nice complexion just isn't in the cards for me.