Tuesday, March 27, 2012


My mom is so pretty. Always has been. She'll be 60 this year and I think she looks exactly the same as the day these were taken which was probably over 30 years ago. My dad also looks exactly the same and can be found making that face approximately 95% of the time.

My mom has magical olive skin that gets tan in about 30 seconds the first sunny day of the year.  I used to get asked a lot if her background was Mediterranean, but I'd have to say no, mostly Norwegian. My dad's explanation is that the Vikings up in Scandinavia plundered and pillaged all the way down to the Ottoman Empire and plenty of dark haired, olive skinned beauties were likely carried north when they went home again. Booty, if you will.

Friday, March 23, 2012

don't get any ideas (unless it's to give me four hundred dollars)


No, I'm not actively planning my wedding.

No, I'm not engaged.

No, I'm not one of those girls freaking out that she's not engaged yet.

But yes, dammit, I have a semblance of a dream of a wedding dress.

And it's on sale.

In my size.
Silk chiffon Thea gown
Silk chiffon Thea gown

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Trust issues

Me: Are you hungry?
David: For what?
Me: Does it matter? Are you hungry?
D: ....why?
Me: Because I want to feed you! It's 9:30 and you've been at practice since 4, and you never eat! Have you eaten at all today?
D: I had a few pieces of pizza at the rehearsal...
Me: When?
D: What did you make?
Me: Are you hungry?
D: It depends on what you made!
Me: A poop sandwich. No you idiot, I made a pork tenderloin.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

mint sorbet

This color looks good with everything, from my puppydog to my checkbook.

Monday, March 12, 2012

universal peace

My dad was in a commune in the 60's. That's all I'm going to say about that.

My dad, seated, and Mehmet, the Turkish Ph.D student who introduced them to wine and Karl  Marx

My dad on the left

Friday, March 9, 2012

say what?

I've experienced a few WTF moments while shopping recently:

I don't know why this last one to me is so ridiculous. Maybe it's like that kid you secretly had a crush on in grade school: you tease him and pretend you hate him, but deep inside you wonder if he's your one true love.  Maybe that's how I feel about this coffee in a carton and I'm just afraid to admit it to myself.  But I think it's actually that there's little more sacred to me than cold press iced coffee and this is just blasphemy!