he ate my heart

that boy is a monster...

just enjoy the party

it's ok with me if you don't have that much to say. 

i just came to say hello.   

anthem of my spring. 

covet

 I want these in my life.

Sado-couture. 

Thank you Marc Jacobs. 

xo

satire or serious

In all likelihood, NSFW.

I can't tell if these guys are pranking everyone or just utterly clueless but either way they're pretty amusing.  You have to give them credit for taking themselves so seriously.  The video is pretty awful both as a satirical endeavour and also in lyrical content.  It doesn't mean I didn't watch it twice and then google search the cost of a sold gold toilet, right after I ate a slice of white bread covered in Nutella.

haunted house

haunted house |ˈhɔntɪd haʊs| 

1. inhabited or frequented by ghosts

2. an individual preoccupied with memories of a past romantic relationship; a person plagued by feelings of regret, remorse or intense longing with regards to a former lover

3. an undateable man or woman


usage-After reading his email on how he couldn't go down the path of a relationship due to residual feelings for his ex, Leah breathed a sigh of relief; she narrowly escaped moving into a haunted house.  

easy like sunday morning

Some people dream about the past , some people dream and live out fantasies, my roommate Shannon dreams about waffles.  Well, she dreams about me making her waffles.  

Picture courtesy of Shannon McGarvey

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

4 teaspoons baking powder

2 tablespoons white sugar

2 eggs

1 1/2 cups warm milk (I used almond milk)

1/3 cup butter, melted

Preheat waffle iron. In a large bowl, mix together flour, salt, baking powder and sugar,  set aside. 

In a separate bowl, beat the eggs with a wire whisk. Stir in the milk and the melted butter . Pour the milk mixture into the flour mixture, beat until blended.

With a 1/4 cup measure cup or a ladle (or anything else you want to use) portion the batter into a preheated waffle iron. Cook the waffles until golden and crisp. Serve immediately with brown sugar syrup (see below). Makes enough for about 3 hungry grown-ups.  Be prepared to make them weekly, Hello Kitty waffle iron not included.  

Brown Sugar Syrup

1/2 cup of butter

1/2 cup of brown sugar (light or dark)

1/4 cup heavy cream, or regular milk if you don't have heavy cream

1 tablespoon dark corn syrup 

2 teaspoons cinnamon

Combine all ingredients in a small saucepan over very low heat stirring regularly with a wire whisk.   When butter is completely melted and syrup starts to bubble remove from heat and let it stand for about 5 minutes, it will thicken.  Spoon over pancakes, waffles, etc.  You can store it in the fridge in an airtight container, like a repurposed jelly jar) for a week or two but it probably won't last that long.  

sleep vs. sleep

"Making love with a woman and sleeping with a woman are two separate passions, not merely different but opposite. Love does not make itself felt in the desire for copulation (a desire that extends to an infinite number of women) but in the desire for shared sleep (a desire limited to one woman)." 

— Milan Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)

I love this statement but it makes me a little uncomfortable, a little squirmy.  I have a habit of cruelly kicking lovers out of my bed for the sole reason that I'm physically unable to sleep next to them (nor do I want to sometimes)  but that's not why it makes me uneasy.  Mostly reading it makes me want to fall in love and falling in love is scary.   But I don't want run of the mill 'this-is-so-easy' love, I want the kind of love that makes you ache inside, that consumes and devours,  screaming matches that end in frenzied, violent lovemaking and glances from across rooms that leave you breathless.  I want love that makes the world stop, when the lines between lust and loathing become so blurred you don't remember why you're even still in the game.  Because the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference, an absence of where emotion should be and isn't.   Call me a romantic but I'd rather fuck and fight and wake up next to someone knowing that it's the real deal than lunch at Nobu, pick out china patterns at Bloomingdales and wake up annoyed that they're breathing on my ear.