nightly dreaming

falling asleep sober = dreams about school. if i give frank one more detention for being tardy as i sleep, imma lose it

falling asleep drunk/tipsy = dreams about life. your kids were crying and i couldn't do anything to calm them

maybe it's time to look into ambien

i'm awesome

roasted eggplant with balsamic roasted red pepper sauce

i think i want to start catering

i may also need to hire a food photographer, cause after 2 hours in the kitchen i'm too tired for that shit

musicmusicmusic

i love lil wayne as much as the next whitegirl from detroit, but it's time to start branching out

we're living proof we gotta let go

losing weight n looking all slim n shit = great

losing weight and looking like a bag lady cause your dog has been to the vet three times in the past two weeks and you decided to buy a washer and dryer and have a terribly expensive wining and dining budget?

a little less great

my apologies for taking this blog in a serious direction (back to regularly-scheduled nonsense soon, promise)

"your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. and most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. they somehow already know what you truly want to become. everything else is secondary."

damn it, steve jobs

i'm fucking worse than my dog

tonight, while taking charles for an evening walk, i got really pissed... he's been legit sick, off and on, for the past week. two visits to the vet, special dog food, and his stomach's still all outta whack. it started with a poorly chosen morsel of trash off the street.

every fucking piece of crap we passed tonight, he would stop and strain and try to eat it. and i actually yelled out loud "if it makes you sick EVERY FUCKING TIME why are you trying to eat it?!"

oh wait.

should probably listen to myself more often...

"you can't get away from yourself by moving from one place to another"

nothing like being really fucking sick to make a girl think about life

yeah yeah yeah, i know i spend most of my time just pondering life, whatever...

my stomach of steel is no longer; just one piece of room-temp pica pollo from the corner comedor was enough to have me puking my guts out for over 8 hours. i've been told i'm a bad patient, and as much as i hate to admit it i know it's the truth... but this morning, in the 4th hour of heaving, i panicked (and not just the oh-but-i-hate-going-to-the-doctor/trying-to-pull-out-my-iv way).

what am i supposed to do, living alone, single, at 7am, when i can't even stand up on my own?

i'm a lucky bitch, cause a friend was in my apartment caring for me in my crazy motherfucking whining and puking frenzy bedroom by 8am, and another pal was bringing me smoothies and reminding me to take my meds for the afternoon shift.

i don't really know what i wanna say here

but, in between the puking, sleeping, crying, shaking, cursing, and sweating, i did a lot of thinking. and it seems that i'm setting up something here for myself. whether intentional or otherwise, the people who matter reached out today (some even going as far as to reach out and hold my hair). sure, culinary school's the next step, and lord knows imma love france, but why am i always in such a rush to get to the next thing?

i think i'm ready for my new tattoo

"sweltering hot, crazy hot, hot, and getting hotter are not seasons"

got me a kitty tonight and all he can do is pant with his little pink tongue out because it's so fucking motherfucking terribly fucking hot in this goddamn city.

if gray, rainy days in fall are my favorite kind of weather, how on earth did i decide on this place?