Nick and I did all sorts of running around this past Saturday, including a stop at American Apparel, where I saw a pair of these:
Holy sparkle hot pants, I have disco fever. Not even kidding, our next stop was to Lululemon for a new pair of running tights. Not originally, though. I actually had to make a return, and the store graciously took back a damaged item. And then my subconscious took over and I found myself trying on running pants.
Who says there isn’t an upside to superficiality? 😉
Gorgeous apartment, with west and south views, in a quiet high-rise just south of Rittenhouse Square at 326 S. 19th St. Two bedrooms. Hardwood floors throughout, coin laundry in the building. Door man from the sister building (at 301 S. 19th St.) accepts packages and has 24-hour monitoring of both building. Cats and small dogs allowed.
Available July 8, 2013 through June 2014. Asking $2,195/mo, includes heat. Email firstname.lastname@example.org to schedule a viewing.
I’m going to miss this apartment so much!
I’ve missed a few iterations of this haircut, but here it is in May, 2013:
I like this. It is inspired by Yolandi Visser, from Die Antwoord.
This is a picture of Tara from Lakshmi Hair Studio the woman who cut it, and I like her hair better. But then again, I need to stay employed. And this is the inspiration, Yolandi Visser, an artist from South Africa, currently the frontwoman for Die Antwoord. Maybe slowly, ever so slowly, I’ll get my hair to this point, blond and all. We’ll see.
I’m taking a little workshop on Skillshare about making maps. This is my first assignment. I know it has been awhile, dear readers. I promise a new post soon on the defense of Valentine’s Day.
I’m less enamored with the our autumn farm share, it’s all cruciferous root vegetables and spicy salad greens. In an effort to make turnips and winter radishes more fun we turned to refrigerator pickling. Don’t get me wrong, they taste refreshing and zippy, but today when I ate my lunch at work it prompted a nearby coworker to complain to facilities about “a strange garbage gas smell.” I can’t blame the guy, the second I walked in the door tonight I was hit by a wall of toot/garbage smell that makes Nick and I wonder how farmers make it through winter without suffocating each other in their sleep.
For dinner we attacked the spicy salad greens by topping them with the pickled veggies; we have a LOT of pickled turnips and radishes. Enough for many servings a day. I looked down at my bowl and all I could think was that I was eating a bowl of endangered underwater sea creatures.
I wish I could say I’m eating salad greens instead of a pizza because I really care about my colon health, but really it’s because we already paid for these things. And even if my salad looks like sea animals, and is spicy enough to curl my noise hair, I’m determined to get through it. Life can be so hard, especially when forced to eat farm fresh veggies practically delivered to your door, you know?
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My friend Poliana and I are just hanging out, eating cheese and such. She just handed me two brie-stuffed raspberries. “What else are the holes for?”
Um no, woman who complained the entire time we were in line at the pole, waiting 15 minutes to vote is not a “disaster.” Voting in the dark with no heat is probably more worthy of that term. I’m sorry democracy isn’t something you can instantly shove down your gullet, and then throw the wrapper on the ground.
Sorry, I had to rant.