This weekend was my roommate’s almost birthday and obviously I had to make her cupcakes. I followed this recipe but doubled it which I think defeats the purpose, but ya. Sprinkles.
There’s this big flight of stairs that fit folk in this city like to run up and down. Many of them look like walking lululemon advertisements, maybe wearing a swag shirt that they got from their most recent ultramarathon. And then there’s me. huffing and puffing and dying my way up and down the stairs, hi-fiving everyone I passed, rocking my vibrams, wearing a not-even-a-sport’s-bra and an expensive, knee length wool coat because I DIDN’T EXPECT IT TO BE BLIZZARD-ING AT THE END OF APRIL. Good workout, guys.
One day, when the weather isn’t the saddest weather of all the weather, I’m going to make these for all of my friends and we’re going to laugh-cry about the longest, greyest winter evarrr.
99.889675% of the time I’m the messiest, procrastinatoriest person on the planet. But then something comes over me and I’m scrubbing the nooks and crannies of my kitchen with a toothbrush and arranging my dinnerware by size then color. Help.
I’ve been pondering my budget lately and have decided there are some things I’m just not willing to skimp on. Cocktail hour. Fine Dining. Fancy undergarments.
I painted my fingernails and it lasted 13 hours. 8 of those, I was asleep. So proud