27

My birthday was this past Sunday. I am now, literally, a card-carrying 27-year old. Aside from some time spent (stupidly) ruminating over people who famously died at this age, I have to say that 27 feels a lot like 26. In fact, it feels almost exactly the same -- plus or minus (or just plus) any pounds gained from celebrating at a string of restaurants. Bragging is gross, but these places are not: Pois Penché, Deville, Brama, Arts Café, Cardinal, Petits Gâteaux, and Magpie. (Yeah, me and my people can eat.)

More important than the eating was the time I spent with people I adore. In fact, the entire weekend was jam-packed with love. There were phone calls to a soul mate in Quebec City, and shopping with some local lady-friends. My parents checked in throughout the weekend, then made the trek downtown just for dinner on Sunday night. (I was surprised by how deeply difficult it was to say goodbye to them post-meal. Was that my first real taste of growing up?) And then there was Josh. Every so often (emphasis on often), and whether he realized it or not, he would wish me Happy Birthday. On the couch? Happy Birthday. Walking down the street? Happy Birthday. On the brink of sleep? You get the idea. I'll spare you from any mushy details. He's my other half. Sometimes, even my better half. That's all you need to know.

If your birthday sets the tone for the year to follow, then hopefully mine is going to kick ass. I will make a point of seeking out the people I love and spending as much quality time with them as possible. Workdays can get long, making the quietness of idle sofa-time all the more inviting. In those moments, I MUST remind myself that seeing, talking, and sharing nourishes the spirit. A few minutes are better than nothing, and far outweigh the excuses made up for being lazy.

27, let's see what you've got.

Goodnight :*

april showers and the like

Montreal is finally on the outs of a brutal, bone-chilling winter. The snow has started to melt, revealing an array of treasures as it does -- mounds of cigarette butts and missing gloves galore! The city is a thing of beauty.

My brain's been running wild, thinking of all I want to do once the sidewalks are fully shoe-friendly. Here's a shortlist (because my brain is tired and presently incapable of forming full paragraphs).

1. Retire my winter coat, for real. Upgrade to trench coat; transform from awkward down-stuffed marshmallow to chic fashionista. Only I'll still be awkward because hello have we met?

2. Go paddle boating on the Lachine Canal. 

3. PARK MY REAR ON A TERRACE. Coffee, cocktail, I don't care -- I just want to sit outside for a while.

4. Rent a Bixi. (Confession: I have yet to ride a Bixi. This feels like the year!)

5. Buy this, fill it with potted plants -- maybe leave the top tray free for serving drinks? -- and wheel it out onto our backyard patio.

5.2. Pick out new/cute/affordable outdoor furniture for said backyard.

5.3. Find a no-brainer how-to for starting your own vegetable garden, then, well, plant one!

Methinks that's enough brainstorming for now. Sleep tight, kiddos. :)

thrown together

Feast your eyes on a thing of beauty:

Has the brightness in this photo been edited to high heavens? Yes.

Did I make that food? Also yes.

Last night, dinner was a tortellini-ed version of a Kitchen Sink Salad. Total mindless "recipe" alert! Boil yourself up a batch of delicately hand-rolled tortellini (or buy the rainbow-colored five-cheese blend like I did). Meanwhile, summon your infantry: peas, cashews, olive oil, sea salt (faaancy), spices, and shredded parmesan.

The noodles' packaging told me they needed a six minute cook time, so I set my alarm and watched a segment of Chopped Canada.

Now here comes the heavy lifting. Literally -- I hate draining pasta because the pot weighs a ton. (On the bright side, you get an impromptu facial from all the steam.) The tortellini go back in the pot, to then be doused in olive oil. Add the other accoutrements to your liking.

Did I mention this dish is ridiculously, embarrassingly easy? Because, at this point, you're already done. Hello, dinner... and... next-day lunch (because you're a modern woman who follows a budget) (and maybe that budget was blown to smithereens because of a post-work trip to Target that day) (no judgment).

I love preparing these types of meals because there's zero pressure to shop in advance or follow an elaborate recipe. There's only really one thing to do: Fill up a bowl with your favorite edibles. (That wasn't a pot reference.) At the same time, it's important -- almost crucial -- to have restraint. Sometimes the problem is combining flavors that don't mesh, and other times there's just too much going on (too many ingredients, too heavy, too salty, etc). I like to have everything in front of me -- even if only mentally -- then pare down the number of ingredients to work with. It's kind of like that rule your mom tells you about wearing too much jewelry: Before leaving the house, look in the mirror, then remove one item. Sure, this mantra is also very stupid  (wear what you like, or as my mom would say, "fine, I give up, you look like a Christmas tree") but, when applied to food, it has yet to lead me down a regrettable path.

Good luck! Enjoy! And goodnight. :)

five things

Five little great things about today:

1. Watching a comedy show with Tania > watching a comedy show. (The most well-intentioned accidental-heckler you can sit with.)

2. Running the dishwasher before leaving the apartment. (Hello clean sink and cleaner cutlery.) (Who am I kidding? That sink is never ever clean.)

3. When your Gap order is delivered!

And while we're on the subject of online shopping... 

4. Discussing the benefits of e-retail your mom. Mine is finally ready to give it a go!

5. Leaving work before the sun goes down. 

Until tomorrow, goodnight :)

not dead, just tired.

Hey y'all. Sure has been a while.

In case anyone was worried: Nope, I wasn't crushed by a weak-hinged closet door, nor buried alive under a pile of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Instead, I quit my job! Because I found a new one!

That was late-January. Between then and now, here are some other things I've accomplished:

- Cried at the Elton John concert.

- Tried my hand at some baaasic origami.

- Almost nailed Beyonce's choreography from the Flawless video.

- Started/finished House of Cards.

- Started/finished True Detective.

- Found my new role model.

- Went to the Kanye West show. Wore a sleeveless tee with his face on it.

- Bought some game-changing top coat.

- Grappled with the art of shampooing one's hair every second day.

- Went to Santa Clara.

Yeah, you can say I'm a busy lady. (I just typo-d lazy instead of lady. True story.) Now, I'm not making any lofty promises because I'd rather be a woman of my word... but... I sincerely hope to check back here regularly. Exhaustion be damned. I spend enough time thinking about the silly things I'd like to share here. Maybe I just have to push myself to do it. Wish me luck!

on friendship and falafel

Falafel recipe: acquired and printed.

Falafel ingredients: purchased and poised for combat.

Falafel chef: watching Breaking Bad, waiting for my apricot beer (so I'm a classy lady, what's your point?) to chill in the fridge. O sweet yeezus I wanna be productive but Bob Odenkirk's argyle socks have me hypnotized.

OK there's one other thing.

I've sentenced myself to couch prison mostly out of sheer unwillingness to wrangled a medium-sized issue that's troubling me. And I say "on friendship" up top because (spoiler alert) said wrangling involves a (truly) dear friend and a sensitive/potentially explosive subject.

I can be confrontational. Normally, these confrontations are spurred by rude strangers and/or work drama and/or PMS (truth). Rarely, if ever, am I strong enough to speak up against a friend if something offensive happens, or when my feelings get hurt. Instead of acting, instead of clearing the air, I often end up stewing in resentment and yucky vibes until the feelings go away. Feel free to call this a bad habit -- I already do. As much as I long for the strength to speak and the tact to do so without hurting anyone, I've yet to have much/any success. 

So. Tonight. I should make a call & bring up a sticky subject. My mind's eye can see that this is the right thing to do. But here I am, warming my legs with my laptop (it's freezing in the apartment), completely putting off the deed. Maybe this behaviour is a testament to my procrastinor soul. Or maybe I'm just a chicken. How do other people broach issues with their pals? What would Carrie Bradshaw do? (JOKES I don't really ask myself that.) (OK sometimes I do but only when I'm shopping.) (Stress SOMETIMES because who else remembers when she wore a crop top + full length skirt + belt around her exposed torso?? Not exactly a trustworthy style guru.)

Right. I'm starving. Wish me luck, universe. Byeee!

today shoulda coulda woulda been a snow day

Buzzfeed made me lawl today. Preach on, #23!

Photo c/o idonthaveaclue. If it's yours, or if you know to whom it belongs, please let me know.