music for your Monday

So it seems like I've fallen short on my Monday music deal. Here's one of my favorite Jason Mraz songs for ya today, one of those that I could just listen to over and over again.

The kind where you take advantage of a rocking chair, staring into nothing.

what is it with boys and grocery stores?

Today I rode my bicycle over to the grocery store. The wind made my eyes all watery. The chill made my nose all red. And me feeling sick made me feel miserable.

But I needed tomato soup and goldfish crackers.

So that I could feel better.

I'm sure you can imagine me hopping off my bike, hair a mess, wheezing, and walking as fast as I could toward the soup aisle.

Campbell's tomato soup, success! Goldfish crackers, success! Milk to make my soup creamy... where is the milk in this store?

I find the milk. As I walk away from the milk cooler (I'm sure there's a more appropriate name, but it's not coming to me) I get hit on. By a very attractive boy.

What do I do? Squeak out the word "hey" (because doing anything other than squeaking is impossibly hard to do with my throat feeling the way it does) and walk as fast as I could towards the decongestant aisle.

Gosh darn you, boy. If only you would hit on me when I don't feel half dead.

I hope to meet you again at Safeway, same time next week. You know, when I don't feel disgusting.


In other news. Look what I made yesterday!



Crescent rolls with nutella goodness lurking inside. De-lish.

sf botanical

Yesterday I went for a walk over to Golden Gate Park, which, lucky for me, is only a few blocks away. I have a feeling I'll be spending a lot of time there, it's so beautiful.

It was there I discovered that there's an upside to the overcast San Francisco days- perfect lighting for photography. Here's a few (okay, a lot) of my shots from walking around the botanical garden in the park.

curious?

So I'm all moved in. I live in San Francisco now. How crazy is that?

Yeah. Hasn't hit me yet.

The only thing that has hit me is the cold. HOLY CRAP. The cold.

little toes

A few weeks ago my cousin Holly, her two year old Paige, and I had a little photo shoot.

More to come!

I don't know why I do these things to myself

You would think I had learned my lesson from my last impulse haircut.

I suppose the fact that this time I'm not in Rome and that yesterday my hairdresser spoke fluent english (as opposed to the expansive vocabulary of the Italian man- the one english word in his bag- "okay!") made it feel not quite as impulsive as walking into the first salon I saw after eating gelato at the Trevi Fountain. (Thank you Roman Holiday for that brilliant idea.)

So on Wednesday I called and made an appointment for Friday with an unknown hairstylist. I had planned on getting my long locks trimmed and thought maybe I'd add a few layers. Maybe.

Then, fifteen minutes before I leave for my appointment, eating my cheerios and flipping through a magazine, I decide to go shorter.

Six inches shorter.

WHY?!?!?!

I think my biggest mistake was when the hairstylist asked me a question about doing something with my hair. I told her "I trust you."

Goodness gracious, that girl went to town on my hair. And I think she had a little too much fun out on the town.

My hypothesis on why she curled my hair into ringlets with a straightener- she messed up and she didn't want me to see until the day after. Well guess what lady. It's the day after. And I'm glad I didn't give you a big tip.

Goodbye messy buns. Goodbye side braids. Goodbye flowing easy long hair. You will be missed.

barefoot findings

I know, I know...

I'm completely neglecting this blog. But if you were packing up twenty three years worth of stuff, then I do believe that you would neglect this blog too.



Image found here.

long beach bound

In thirty short minutes is the beginning of
a fun and glorious road tripping adventure with some old friends from Paris.

AND

I

CAN

NOT

WAIT

what a day

too lazy to brush or dry my hair. Didn't realize my hair was this curly.

bike rides and the most hilarious wipe out EVER with my brotha from anotha mother.

frisbee on the beach.

amazing turkey/bacon/cream cheese/avocado sandwich enjoyed with Sophie and Chance.

sunburns.

going to surprise grandma with Ford's milkshakes, to find she isn't home. So I decide to drink them both. While driving. Without napkins. Resulting in both chocolate and vanilla milkshake on my shirt. And a tummy ache.

getting in the dressing room at TJ Maxx and finding I forgot to shave my armpits this morning. Nice.

chips and guac for dinner.


and getting jazzed (that's right, jazzed) for my road trip to Long Beach tomorrow!


Dear Summer season,
I love you.

riding my new bike at incredible speeds.

that's how I roll.
Literally.

craziness.

In less than a month, I will be living in this beautiful city. Craziness.









So let me tell you a little story.

After searching for months on Craigslist and Roommate Finder, I have finally found a place to call home.

Let me tell you about looking through ads, searching for a place to live.
There's always something wrong.

Rent is too high. Wrong neighborhood. Roommates sound like sluts, or, possibly worse, geeks with no desire for social lives. Not allowed to use the oven. Looking for other Asians. No guests. No drinking. No fun. Wrong timing.

A few weeks ago I came home after a long night of work, and, although tired, I hopped online to see if any good sounding listings had surfaced.

And I found one. Further from school than I want to be. More than I want to pay. A month earlier than I planned to move.

Even though the latter would normally result in me moving on to another ad, I couldn't help but think that, other than those usual deal breakers, this sounded perfect. The roommates sounded like exactly what I was looking for. I would have my own room. And it is just so darn close to Golden Gate Park and the beach.

So, for the first time, I responded to an ad. Because it just felt so right.

Then, after I hit the send button, I agonized over what I wrote in the message. I won't lie, I sounded pretty dorky. But then, when don't I?

Okay, here's where it gets awesome.

The next day I hear back from one of the prospective roommates. Here's how the e-mail begins-

COURTNEY!!
It's Lia, from Paris. What are the chances that you would reply to my craigslist ad!? Crazy.


That's right. I replied to one of the hundreds of Craigslist ads I've read, and it turns out I knew the girl. What?!

Um, meant to be much?

So a few days later I drove to the city, checked out the place, waited overnight to give my decision then called to confirm that I was taking it. Last Thursday I picked up my keys. What a weird feeling.

And now I'm beginning to buy all the fun little things that you never really think of needing.

Yesterday I bought some spatulas.

Who knew spatulas could be so exciting?