Hello More view. #bragging
Hello Working with a view all week.
Hello First meal today. Farm chicken with burbon peach glaze and something something fancy come to momma.
Hello Me and my @herschelsupply bag are Ready for 7 days in SF.
Hello Stumbled into a new and used book store. #magical
Sometimes you just want to read something funny. Which is what this piece “I Tried Gwyneth Paltrow’s Diet” by Rebecca Harrington over at New York Magazine is. It’s not another run-of-the-mill making-fun-of-Gwyneth’s-expensive-savior-complex piece because, while Harrington has a sense of humor, she also has a genuine appreciation for the recipes and food and for the fact that Gwyneth is sharing them. Heidi and I both want to hang out with Harrington:
While making the meatballs, however, I can tell something is up. No. 1: They are green (they are made of arugula and turkey). No. 2: I can’t put them in tomato sauce because I have eliminated tomatoes from my diet. Instead, I am serving them with a broccoli soup that tastes mostly like water. What is going on? Yesterday was so amazing! When my guests arrive and I feed them the meatballs, I can tell that they hate them. One of them pulls out a huge bag of chips and starts eating them in front of me. Another one leaves to “actually eat dinner.” I am about to have a panic attack when I suddenly remember when Gwyneth went to a dinner party in America and someone asked her what kind of jeans she was wearing and she thought to herself, “I have to get back to Europe.” America is the worst. I say nothing about anyone’s jeans, even though I was literally just going to ask everyone about their jeans.
Image via Neurotic New Yorker
Hello being Gwyneth,
I read this and laughed so hard I cried. And then wanted to become Gwyneth, too. At least a little bit.
Fuzzy Animal Friday!!
You have many faces and they are all adorable.
Hello @wkavanaugh @clarissacrab @ashelbyc @stealingsand #lilacGATSBYday is lace filigree and bows. Did I do good?
Hyperbole and a Half: Depression Part Two -
I’m not the right person to say “wow, this is so accurate!”. That ain’t mine to claim. But damn, this a powerful post.
You might also want to read this post first if you’re a long-time Hyperbole and a Half fan rather than just tuning in now.
It’s like reading a diary entry about myself.
If you read one thing today, read Hyperbole and a Half.
Please read this, seriously.
(Source: tastefullyoffensive, via shorterexcerpts)
All I ever did to that apartment was hang fifty yards of yellow theatrical silk across the bedroom windows, because I had some idea that the gold light would make me feel better, but I did not bother to weight the curtains correctly and all that summer the long panels of transparent golden silk would blow out the windows and get tangled and drenched in the afternoon thunderstorms. That was the year, my twenty-eighth, when I was discovering that not all of the promises would be kept, that some things are in fact irrevocable and that it had counted after all, every evasion and every procrastination, every mistake, every word, all of it. — Joan Didion, “Goodbye To All That,” Slouching Towards Bethlehem (via commovente)
Hello Donating blood requires tights and platform sandals.
Hello Sometimes a girl needs to walk around the city.
If I watch one more training video I’m going to shank someone.