My Search For The Emerald Coast. Not Golden — EMERALD.
Well.
Based on my last non-post, you may have guessed that I went somewhere last week.
Somewhere beachy. Read the rest of this gem…
Well.
Based on my last non-post, you may have guessed that I went somewhere last week.
Somewhere beachy. Read the rest of this gem…
I only have a few hours in paradise, and Because I’m me, I didn’t write anything ahead of time.
Sorry about that.
So I have no real post because
This morning I awoke and stretched languidly in bed. It was likely my only cat-like move for the day — the rest will be stiff and sore, more stick bug than feline, so I made the stretch a good one.
And then I froze.
Food.
What can I say? I love it. I love it so much that I sometimes watch the scene from Spanglish where Adam Sandler makes The Sandwich on repeat. I love it so much that I plan whole days, weeks, vacations around its consumption. Read the rest of this gem…
So.
The budget — and I use the term “budget” very loosely — for this kitchen has been stretched tighter than the belly skin I burned at the beach yesterday.
(I’m really bad at similes.)
Dear College Boys Next Door:
It’s been a while since I’ve written you last. The neighborhood has been fresh and calm, abuzz with the sounds and smells of spring.
I’ve been in a weird place lately. Read the rest of this gem…
Money Money Money Mon-ay — Mon-ay!
Sing it. You know you want to. Read the rest of this gem…
“So… um… don’t enjoy the game too much.” Justin laughed, but it was the nervous kind — the obvious kind you don’t have to be married for 8 years to hear and know that he’s not really joking.
In high school, I wasn’t exactly what you’d call one of the “popular girls.”
I don’t know. It probably had something to do with my frizzy hair… purple braces… geeky glasses… lack of fashion sense… tendency to blink during photos.
Take your pick. Read the rest of this gem…