It’s been around 30°C/90°F for several days now and as much as I love when the sun and my shorts come out (every Seattlite observes the sun with wonderment in their eyes), I’m melting.
For the last two nights, I’ve woken up in a sweat in bed, and had to move myself and my pillow over to the floor in front of the window.
The beauty of Seattle is no matter how hot it gets during the day, it always gets nice and cool at night. Unfortunately, sometimes it can take a little time for the indoors to catch up with the outdoors.
With the weather this way, there was no way I was turning on the oven.
My Banana Banana Bread is currently my most popular post by far, thanks to a little viral repinning on Pinterest.
I have a feeling that the prefix “gluten-free” on this recipe will prevent it from ever reaching that level of success, but that’s okay.
I didn’t make it for views, I made it so my friend would have one more thing to eat at Easter Brunch.
Every Tuesday evening after work, I come home and I work on my blog.
I upload photos off my camera.
I select a reasonable number of those photos (usually around 7-9) to edit.
I bring the selected photos into Photoshop for some mild tweaks in terms of levels and colour tones.
I upload the edited photos to WordPress and finally, write a blog post to go along with them and the recipe.
It is currently Tuesday evening at 10:56pm.
I don’t usually start this late…
Trevor and I have been doing some house research the past few weeks. It’s exciting and scary and I can’t wait to leave my tiny kitchen behind. We’re not quite ready to upgrade our condo yet, but we’re gathering information for when we do.
There is one thing I have learned so far… my dream kitchen only exists in multi-million dollar homes.
It’s really quite unfortunate.
There’s nothing quite like getting your hair did to make you feel like a lady.
It’s that lovely pampered feeling that you can only get from someone fussing over you in a completely superfluous way. Also the way your hair sits just right, a way that for some reason you can never do no matter how kind and patient your stylist is explaining to you how to do it.
I have pin straight Asian hair, and yet I can’t get my hair as smooth as she gets it.
I’m convinced that all hair stylists are some sort of magicians.
Well, the good ones are at least.
A friend of mine got married recently. She didn’t want to have a particularly big “to-do” of a wedding, so these cupcakes were for the mini congrats that my work setup for her, involving your average amount of office decorating (streamers, coffee filter flowers and confetti), a card and flourless chocolate cupcakes! She may not have wanted a big to-do when she got married, but we gave her a medium to-do two days later, and the city gave her a huge to-do anyways outside of city hall before and after she was married.
They gave hundreds of people a huge to-do on Sunday in Seattle.
Chocolate shops paralyze me. I just sort of stand in the middle of them with my mouth open.
Godiva, Laura Secord, Dilettante, Fran’s… all of them I get overwhelmed with waves of indecision. How can I ever pick just one chocolate-packed sweet?
Sometimes I pick one thing and immediately regret it, even though it’s amazingly delicious because I can’t help but think of the three other things I could have bought instead.
Sometimes I come out of a shop with a dozen things but still end up full of regrets in the form of terrible tummy aches.
One thing I’ve never come out with is a rice krispy square.
I’m back from Japan! And I’m horribly jetlagged!
Woo woo woo!
I’m in one of those moods where I’m a little obnoxiously hyper because I’m overcompensating for the fact that I really just wish I was taking a nap. But I can’t take a nap because that would just make this whole readjustment period longer and I’m already back at work and I just need to go go go go…
Go to BED, I need to go to bed.
No I don’t, It’s like 6pm.
Or DO I?
Oh, before I forget, Japan was AWESOME!
I ate so much food.
Little tiny almond tea cakes make me feel fancy, as though they require delicate tea pairings, ones which must only be consumed with pinky fingers extended outwards in a simple “I am fancy” salute.
Especially when they have fancy french names.
Faaaaahncyy financiiiieeeers… /fancyvoice
I’m allergic to scallops.
Just scallops though. No other shellfish, thank goodness, as I inhale lobster rolls like my next breath is hidden in the center of them. I don’t understand how one is allergic to just scallops, but I am. Multiple instances of scallop consumption as a child always led to several bed-ridden days of me clutching a large popcorn bowl for the most unappetizing role of its poor plastic life.
Scallops make me very sick. I seem to remember one point where I was so sick, the utterance of the phrase “hot dog” caused an almost instantaneous and very violent physical reaction in me. And I love hot dogs.
But scallops are very avoidable. A recognizable shape and often obvious star of a plate, I don’t generally have unexpected run-ins with my evil mollusk nemesis. I have never even heard of a scallop in a dessert.
I can’t imagine having celiac disease.