Curiouser

2012-02-20T23:14:00.001-08:00

Things I'm Craving

2012-02-15T19:28:00.000-08:00

Blue/green/grey color swatch skeins;

Lime green merino skeins;

An old wooden wine crate for storing yarn;

A yarn bowl.

2012-02-15T16:59:00.000-08:00

The slouchy beehive hat, in stripes!

2012-02-13T18:31:00.001-08:00

2012-02-12T13:32:00.000-08:00

Chicken and sausage gumbo

A feast for true knights

Lemon and garlic roast chicken

Pardon my ugly plating skills.

2012-02-10T15:42:00.000-08:00

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/dont-date-a-girl-who-reads/

Cute.

2012-02-09T23:49:00.000-08:00

i am the seal

on a thousand cracks

of a vase

in an apprentice hand. the fire

smokes me, churns me.

i long.

oh, how i long!

for the sweetness in muddy banks,

the lazy swirls of stagnant pools

the clay where i was birthed,

a malleable force.

my home.

the water birds, the tall reeds.

i miss the cowslip wine, the gentle sway

of cattails, the curious bumblebee.

in the smoky pits of hell i writhe,

i harden,

i rot.

2012-02-03T11:39:00.000-08:00

2012-02-02T21:39:00.001-08:00

2012-01-27T01:16:00.001-08:00

2012-01-20T00:54:00.000-08:00

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouI,loveyou

and still it will not be enough,

to-night.

i know. i know because

that is what the mother whispers

to the child tucked in her arms

a child so gossamer white

i would have thought he dressed in spider silk

if not for green veins flowing neath.

like roots of a tree, green with life

a life that flows inwards

back to nothingness, to empty out

into the sea

the way some streams never turn

to rivers.

IloveyouIloveyou.

does the angry stomach listen?

Iloveyou,Iloveyou.

would that intestines could absorb the life of words

IloveyouIloveyou,

a thousand times I love you.

and still it will not be enough, to-night.

the mother bends over her child

tears trickling towards his face:

a face gaunter than ever, the tears collect.

he is already meeting the sweet salt of the sea.

somewhere, the waves are crashing

2012-01-17T15:26:00.000-08:00

“Look, I know it’s easy to say tonight was just a fluke, and maybe it was, but here’s a piece of trivia: A fluke is one of the most common fish in the sea. So if you go fishing for a fluke, chances are, you just might catch one.”

- Kevin Malone, The Office

2012-01-13T20:16:00.000-08:00

See I remember we were driving, driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

And I had a feeling that I belonged
I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

Love this song.

2012-01-13T00:34:00.000-08:00

we are atoms in a space.

we are creators

of what is, already made

millions of specks,

insignificant.

i n s i g n i f i c a n t.

a c t i n g f i n i s,

i n f a c t i s i n g.

there is no god,

he whispered to me;

i was fourteen then.

the smell of incense, lingering deep

into my clothes, into my hair

taking root in my bosom,

birthed the idea

into my heart:

there is no god.

like invisible vines

creeping through

veins

to the edge of my eyes,

the retina.

o h, i n t o g r e e d s.

porcelain eyes stare.

smoky sweet air

making red lips redder,

dancing smiles

the creases deeper.

o h, t o r e d e s i g n.

2012-01-09T20:10:00.000-08:00

One pitcher of beer,

Two soju drinks.

Not enough to drown out the nightmares.

In my nightmare I have finished putting makeup on, a nicer-than-normal outfit, and my hair is brushed. As I turn to leave, a girl rushes up to me, breathless. There are bodies by the river, she says. It's a full moon out tonight. I go into the river, wade inside. Black water swirls around me as I break the current, washes over my head. Black mascara runs down my face as I plunge my hands into the river. Next to me, the girl is doing the same; down the river, across the river, all are doing the same.

Babies. I am pulling drowning babies out of the river, one after the other. Some are newborn infants, feet and tiny baby hands still curled towards their bodies. Some are toddler-sized, their eyes already open, gasping. The more I pull out, the more it becomes clear that they are getting more grotesque. Some are miscarriages, and look more like bundles of soft flesh than bodies. Some are missing eyes. I am pulling dead babies out now, I am arranging them together on the bank of the river.

The last baby I pull out is almost perfect. A serene smile, eyes closed in peace. Only it has no arms, and fingers are growing out of its head. A tiny baby boy. He is the last one I decide to pull out, before I make my way to the back to the bank and arrange him with the others.

A woman watches me in silence. As I turn around to leave, she follows me, now don in a black cloak and a Japanese mask. I know I can't turn around, know I can't face her. I walk more swiftly, and still she follows. I hurry. I reach my house and I lock it. As I look around, I notice faces.

Faces. Pressed against the windows of my house, I see the faces of teenagers, presumably what the babies would have turned out to look like. They too, don't say anything. They are silent, anticipating. One of the teenagers slip inside, and I move to grab his arms and throw him out. He takes a knife out from his coat and begins slashing me. I raise my arms to block him, but I can feel the knife cutting into my arms, into my hands. Blackness rolls in.

When it clears, he is gone. But when I walk to the dining table, I see two letters: one, from the woman in the cloak and Japanese mask, and one, the father of the last baby I pulled out.

Court summons. They are suing me for the death of their baby.

2012-01-08T00:30:00.000-08:00

All I've ever had was strength.
I show it in the cracks. I smooth
out stone on stone, I sheen with use.

All I've ever known was shame
and philosophy: Plato's Republic,
The Birth of Tragedy, Young Werther's Sorrows...

I have an affinity with the sea,
my sailor's blood, my stance:
my wild stallion, the waves

I do not enter lightly. I moan
and creak, the leather of a slave.
I can take the heat; hell, a sudden parting.

I do not know. I hold
fast, the spirit text: the great
death inside us; strong, inside us.

- Lorna Dee Cervantes

2012-01-07T14:11:00.000-08:00

2012-01-05T12:34:00.000-08:00

In first grade I threw up during the Pledge of Allegiance.

To be fair, it was a knee-jerk reaction to a boy who had spontaneously vomited a few moments' prior. But as is consistent with elementary school policy, you were required to go home if any signs of sickness appeared. It was a good decision- moments later, in the nurse's office, I began throwing up again. The school couldn't get a hold of my parents, who were both working, so the office permitted my grandpa to walk me home.

I was giddy when we left. It must have made such a funny sight, an old man and a sickly girl without a car to make the going easier. I should mention, now, that my grandfather is not much of an affectionate man. He does not "go easy on you", which means he certainly does not "baby you".

Therefore I walked the entire way home, stopping momentarily here and there to barf in a neighbor's petunia garden. My grandpa waited down the street for me, and would continue once I finished and caught up. I think it was then that I began to understand his tough love served as the foundation for my character building. After all, the man who gruffly told me "[I] had enough stuffed animals" would still help me, albeit grudgingly, arrange them in a neat arc around my pillow before afternoon naps.

When I first experienced death (through the old age of my chickens... There's a joke to be made somewhere) I was miserably distraught. I cried and I cried and I cried, and so on. Really, I did not have many friends, so this was extremely upsetting. On the day of my recital, at my aunt's house, I burst into tears. I left, feeling embarrassed, and stood in the yard gathering myself together. My grandpa comes out, and places his hand on my shoulder. "Don't cry anymore," he says. "There's no use. They're already gone." I was taken aback.

Up until this point, everyone had been gentle about this topic. I had only received the "There, there's" and the "It's okays" and the "Awwws", so imagine my surprise at being essentially told to "Tough it out, too bad". At 13 years old, no less.

But it stuck with me. And I realized the futile way of words, how they could only go so far before action really changed anything. Action. The only thing that keeps any motor in a being turning. How useless words became then, in filling true dread, fear, pain, and love! How empty they fell, when uttered over and over again. Same shit, different pair of lips. Small talk became insufferable.

This helped me to help myself. There is no point in pretty words that do nothing.

Fast forward years. People get older. Conditions become debilitating. A minor slip of hand, becomes a serious risk to life. My grandfather lies in critical care, dreaming. My mom, across from me, begging him to come back. "Come back," she begs. "We all need you. Come back, please. Please." Like a skipping tape.

No response.

I don't say much, even when she urges, except for maybe a casual "Hey grandpa" thrown in. I can't trust myself to say anything of substance, not here, in front of my mom, words drowning in the midst of the beeping and ticking of monitors. I know that if I do, I will be reduced to 13-year-old me: a blubbering, shaking mess. And I know if he had heard me, my grandfather would have said something along the lines of "Tough it out, too bad."

So instead of saying things like "come back" or "wake up" or "please get better", I simply hold his cold hand and send a mental thought to him. Truth is, ever since he passed the point of maintaining coherent conversation and basic recognition, years ago, I have been sending him mental thoughts. Paragraphs. Stories, even. Real words are tiring. "Talk to Yeye!", everyone said at family gatherings. I have always done so, but in my own way. And in this way, I am one of the only ones he does recognize.

Here is the thought I send: "It's okay. It's been a long fight. But you don't need to do that anymore, no, you don't. You can let go, it's okay. You don't have to hurt anymore, not for us, not for anybody."

I place my hand around his cold, clamped hand. Bruises up and down his arm where nurses struggled to find a working vein. His thumb, devoid of any color. Machines pumping, making him look as though he is breathing on his own. The sigh when exhaling. The way his nostrils had begun to shrink, like withering petals. And the wires, endless wires. I hesitate.

Then I lean over the machines, over the ventilator, on my tip-toes, across the arm rest- and kiss him gently on the brow. I squeeze his hand, one last time. And I send a final thought to him.

Goodbye, grandpa.

Goodbye,

goodbye.

2012-01-03T12:41:00.001-08:00

2012-01-02T21:54:00.000-08:00

only in death,

a lasting peace.

you can

let go now-

it's okay.

no one will think anything different of you.

don't worry!

it's okay.

i'll make sure

everything's okay.

The Downpour

2011-12-30T22:40:00.000-08:00

On a rainy day you are sure to see,

lots of posts regarding rain in glee.

On Facebook, on Twitter, on Ipad, indeed;

on Tumblr, on Google+, on HTCs.

How romantic!

How sweet!

How positively neat!

but

does anyone

think/

consider/

feel/

about the homeless?

when the rain pours,

who comforts them?

when water soaks through

and through

where are they, to find relief?

I shared with a homeless my onion rings,

just the other day. He is a person too.

A man. He didn't have a fancy phone,

but a beard in need of shave.

No iPod, either. Just an empty Big Gulp container.

It's a good thing.

He didn't look away to text

when I gave him my food.

Didn't take a picture

before eating.

I don't know where he was going,

just that he turned away from asking change.

Maybe that's all anyone really wants.

Warm food, and someone to talk to.

In between bites,

he talks to himself. 'Oh, wow.'

Genuine surprise.

It's been a long time since I've seen anything real.

'Happy Holidays', I wished him. 'And God Bless'.

He looks up at me, smiles.

'Have a nice day. I sure as hell

hope it doesn't fucking rain.'

A Suitable Boyfriend Replacement

2011-12-29T23:23:00.001-08:00

Brookstone's Body Bean

M gave me this for Christmas, but in red, and I love it. Not only is it the best snuggle buddy around, but it's hilariously cute-looking. (When I was younger, I'd doodle lots of kidney beans with different facial expressions. This reminds me of those doodles.)

So sweet huh :)

2011-12-29T22:21:00.000-08:00

If it were up to me,

I'd pack all my things, move

far away from here, into the woods.

Where the drumming of the woodpecker

becomes my new alarm. And the light steps

of shy deer o'er twigs and dried grass,

my solace.

The tide no longer turns for us,

so much of that is clear.

While the gleaming orb still hangs in the sky,

oceans receding as they will,

a different kind of gravity

beckons the will of Man.

Man- with all his fine contraptions,

and glorious silks,

and swaying words,

and fancy airs-

Yet victim to the simplest of vice.

Man- with all his talks of evolution,

of cells,

of biology,

of science-

Yet remains

fascinatingly monstrous, deluded animal.

Man- with loud music,

with violins,

with trumpets,

with horns-

Covering the sound of war.

War.

I've yet to see another animal engaged in it.

Are we so evolved?

In one hundred years

I will step out from my tomb of forest,

(permitting there is something left). The men

of the future will laugh at the men of today,

will shake their heads at the infancy of then.

And what will they make of it?

So much struggle,

only to return to roots.

I will be dust by then.

I pray that I am not made into a bomb.

2011-12-29T00:53:00.000-08:00

I will

still love you

if we end up,

poor.

at forty,

one Saturday afternoon,

whilst dusting the living room,

you look at me in all my tattered apron glory

And I at you, in mended jean galore-

we will share a secret moment,

we will throw up our hands

in mock exasperation.

THEN

We will laugh and hug each other

like old friends do at first reunion

and with tears spilling from our joyous howling,

you will say:

'remember that time of our youth

when we laughed in the face of the future

and lived as we did?

Now who could blame the sage

for our lavish life now!

Lying on the ground of our apartment,

with hair to dust and ear to bare wall,

we listen to the softness of the air

and feel the silence of the room.

Blessed are those who have nothing temporal in this world,

No material thing exists to which will anchor their feet.

Free to float, and free to dream.

Outside the last leaf falls,

Its goodbye masked

by the eight chimes of a nearby tower,

by the bustling of people towards the market,

by the motion of cars,

by the roar of planes.

We are poor, but not so much.

We are poor, but only in passing.

When someone points at the man in the office past

twelve o' clock midnight, still working-

to afford his wife's pearls,

to afford his new car,

to afford his Victorian home-

and says, "look at that poor man!" that,

is poor.

When someone whispers about

the girl strung from a tree because

her lover no longer loved her

saying, "that poor girl!" that,

is poor.

When passerbys look at each other

and share the same face of pity

at the drunkard slumped against the wall

or the addict succumbed to vice

nodding, "poor, poor fool" that,

is poor.

So if on one Saturday morning,

you look at me, and I you,

in clothes a bit more loved than usual

and our only worry the dust in the living room-

Well, who could blame the sage

for our lavish life now?

2011-12-29T00:29:00.000-08:00

From the age of five

all I ever knew was power.

Like the train that moves

because of its engine's hunger,

humming along the tracks

pulling 7-ton bricks behind it.

Power, like the propeller on a plane

chopping up sweet morning air,

bursting through clouds;

neither a second glance at the sun,

nor at birds in flight.

All I ever knew,

from the age of five

Was power.

That power pushes,

and it takes equal amounts of it

to push back.

Exactly the same amount,

and no less.

I knew that much at five.

Dissonant, jarring power.

I do not know why some will use it as they do.

I do not know why, in that moment,

the boy pushed me, and took my bread.

He did not even finish it.

And I wonder, if he knew what I knew

(that it was the only thing I had to eat)

if he would have.

Power.

At five,

It was all I knew.

2011-12-29T00:27:00.001-08:00

Old Favorites by D.H. Lawrence

2011-12-28T23:30:00.000-08:00

Self-pity

I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.

What would you fight for?

I am not sure I would always fight for my life.
Life might not be worth fighting for.

I am not sure I would always fight for my wife.
A wife isn't always worth fighting for.

Nor my children, nor my country, nor my fellow-men.
It all depends whether I found them worth fighting for.

The only thing men invariably fight for
Is their money. But I doubt if I'd fight for mine, anyhow
not to shed a lot of blood over it.

Yet one thing I do fight for, tooth and nail, all the time.
And that is my bit of inward peace, where I am at one
with myself.

And I must say, I am often worsted.

The Hunger Games Trilogy

2011-12-28T13:39:00.000-08:00

3/5 at best. Only the first book is worth reading, in my opinion.

Very easy read (the publisher name should have been a dead giveaway). I received this set for Christmas and read through the weekend, on and off. If I had read this when I was in middle school I might have loved it- but as it is, I didn't.

Weak points:

- Annoying female protagonist who gets mentally weaker as the books go on. Takes advantage of her position in a love triangle to get as much support as possible.

- The two other guys in the love triangle are annoying as well. Of course, the smarter one ends up being depicted as the one of lower moral character, while the bumbling love-stuck fool who would be considered a stalker in everyday terms is an upstanding man.

- Last sentence of every chapter is guaranteed to act as a 'cliffhanger' for the next. And the next. And the next. Like clockwork.

- The world is poorly constructed. I wish Collins spent more time writing about uprisings in the other districts; it would actually feel more like a revolution then, than a series of scattered, short battles. Very anticlimactic, especially when it compared to the first book.

- Description of blood and gore is a poor substitution for adding depth to the characters in trying to keep readers entertained.

I couldn't help but think that this similar to The Wind Singer (mostly children, female protagonist, helpless boy in love, hierarchy based on social stratification, etc) with a little bit of Ender's Game mixed in (clueless about being used as a pawn by higher-ups).

2011-12-23T22:25:00.000-08:00

2011-12-22T21:24:00.000-08:00

1. Wake up to hazelnut latte
2. Catch the matinee at Universal Citywalk for Sherlock Holmes II with contraband (freshly sliced prosciutto and smoked gouda on a garlic roll with cream cheese and chive spread... toooooooo good)
3. Almost get into a fight because why is the guy behind us so goddamn grumpy? It's the holidays! Cheer up you grumpy bastard.
4. Second dosage of hazelnut via frappuccino

5. Critique fear factor
6. Try to go to Ombra but arrived too early... Eff it then. Eat In and Out instead and pick up a sixer of beer and a large bottle of cheap Belgium beer (why doesn't Bevmo give me a VIP card, I swear I've spent my life savings there?)

7. Glug glug glug... Watch old Sherlock Holmes' movies. More critiques.

8. Slurpees at night because why not. Buy scratchers and lose. Story of my life.

What a great day of doing nothing in particular!

2011-12-19T19:18:00.000-08:00

:) So handsome!

2011-12-18T21:51:00.000-08:00

Shopping in Costco with my brother...

Me: Hm. I think I'm hungry now.
Brother: Okay, we'll go eat in a bit. Should I get this, or that? Where were those pizza things? I also need water.
Me: I don't know. Over there.
Brother: Hey, look, Toblerone samples *proceeds to hand me one*
Me: Toblerone D: Hmm. Hungry! HUNGRY HUNGRY HUNGRY can we eat now?
Brother: Yeah, soon! I just need-
Me: HUNGRY HUNGRY HUNGRY NEED FOOD NOW NOW NOW
Brother: Geez! Hold on!
Me: NO! Oh man, so hungry. Hungry hungry hungry.
Brother: Shouldn't have given you those samples.
Me: FFUUUUUU
*checks out, buys food, sitting down eating, hunger abated*
Brother: ...
Me: Hm did you get everything you need? :3 Are you done with all your errands? Blah blah yadda yadda...
Brother: -_- *face palm*

What can I say? It's weird. When I need to eat, I NEED to eat. RIGHT NOW. NOW NOW NOW. I have a certain lapse of time I can tolerate, but after that... Nothing gets in the way! Nothing. A black hole appears where my stomach used to be and I am filled with the desire to consume anything immediately in my path. It's why I can no longer stand the "I-don't-know-what-do-you-want-to-eat" Jedi-mind-food-game. Because I always lose!

2011-12-17T23:16:00.000-08:00

Sucker-free.

2011-12-13T22:56:00.000-08:00

2011-12-11T12:21:00.000-08:00

2011-12-10T22:32:00.000-08:00

Every time Christmas rolls around I am reminded of one of the best presents I ever received: Patrick McDonnell's The Gift of Nothing.

I don't think my friend realized it (she knew I was a fan of Mutts) but that tiny little children's book really affected me. Not to say that I've been particularly materialistic and/or unappreciative of things, but something about that book was very philosophical.

Is the gift of nothing actually just an opportunity from the giver for the receiver to transcend above what is material and attain a kind of 'higher' truth? Also, is the larger box a metaphor for a greater understanding of this concept? In this case, then, the giver would be giving a kind of ultimate gift: a chance at experiencing pure and ultimate truths. And who wouldn't want to become enlightened (I'm speaking rhetorically, of course)? When compared with things that only result in temporary happiness (e.g. handbags that change with the season), why wouldn't one instead want a present that goes beyond? A chance at transcendental idealism? Even the things that hold the most personal value are valuable because they are attached to the bigger meaning; to abstract, powerful memories. Isn't the best present, then, knowledge of this? Love, loyalty, friendship... All of these are abstract. Instead of using material things to quantify or (worse) qualify abstract feelings, why not teach the idea that these things are wholly and permanently intangible and thus the better option is to experience without the material things weighing down each ideal? It seems a little ironic that not only do people practice the former, but designate days on which to practice it.

Anyway, that is the story of how that particular children's book changed me. The comic strip below also means a lot to me; I even remember clipping it out of the Sunday Times'. I believe I still have it somewhere. It's based off an old tale about a monk and a donkey.

2011-12-05T22:55:00.000-08:00

One of my earliest spoken word poems :) Haven't used my laptop in a while and found this floating around whilst looking for Sims.

i did not hit the neighbor’s cat-
i should have, it bit me
scratched me,
ate our dog’s food.
should have,
now SHE’s at
my mama’s door,
brown hair a’flyin’,
spittle leaking,
cracked lips you’d think
she had rabies or somethin'!
eyes all crazy
looming down at me
accusing finger
never wavering;
Hollerin'-
'watch your children’,
'don’t you
Dare touch my cat!',
'your daughter is
Lying!'
don't scream at my mama
for something i didn’t do!
just cause us Chinese kids
too shy
hang our heads some times
don’t mean we guilty
all the time.
i only wanted to pet it,
but now i don’t wanna be so nice.
So i ain’t going to tell you
my brother slingshot
your telephone man
in the ass
Last night.

The true story of why I don't like cats and have always been a dog person. End.

Just me and my boo

2011-12-01T23:51:00.000-08:00

Rising Road

Dance at Bougival

In the shade of trees on the race course (Dans l'ombre des arbres sur le champ de course)

2011-12-01T00:39:00.001-08:00

Ulysses

2011-11-29T00:13:00.000-08:00

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Matched with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel; I will drink
life to the lees. All times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
that loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vexed the dim sea. I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known---cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honored of them all---
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough
Gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades
Forever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end.
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains; but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
This is my son, my own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the scepter and the isle---
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfill
This labor, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and through soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centered in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail;
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought with me---
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads---you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honor and his toil.
Death closes all; but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks;
The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends.
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
the sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be that we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are---
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

- Tennyson

Story of my life.

2011-11-27T22:33:00.000-08:00

Hot pot at my brother's girlfriend's place :) Teeheeeeee.

2011-11-22T21:25:00.000-08:00

Vague holiday cards have arrived!

Knitting, revisited

2011-11-20T22:07:00.000-08:00

Finger-less mittens;

A sweater for a dog;

A coffee cozy;

Two mustache finger sleeves (didn't quite have enough to bind off the last bit, so some green was used).

Knitting. What's not to love? For less than $10 on a ball of fair trade wool, I made all of the above! This yarn is 100% Peruvian Highland. Of course, you could go into the more luxurious end with 100% baby alpaca or llama, but starting off with the more economical variety ensures the least amount of regret when mistakes are made.

It's also a good habit to buy from the local yarn store, as opposed to large craft retailers like Jo-Ann's or Michael's, which are not as specialized. The yarn there is usually synthetic and while cheaper, is not always more attractive. Local yarn stores have more variety (where else would you find yarn made from corn, hemp, or other strange fibers?). Also, you can buy plain yarn and dye it yourself for the perfect color. Which is what I'm going to do next! Vegan yarn dyed with autumn leaves.

2011-11-19T23:56:00.000-08:00

"Try fiction," suggested Tom.
"Trouble is I get distracted when I start to write stories—get afraid I'm doing it instead of living—get thinking maybe life is waiting for me in the Japanese gardens at the Ritz or at Atlantic City or on the lower East Side.
"Anyway," he continued, "I haven't the vital urge. I wanted to be a regular human being but the girl couldn't see it that way."
"You'll find another."
"God! Banish the thought. Why don't you tell me that 'if the girl had been worth having she'd have waited for you'? No, sir, the girl really worth having won't wait for anybody. If I thought there'd be another I'd lose my remaining faith in human nature. Maybe I'll play—but Rosalind was the only girl in the wide world that could have held me."

- This Side of Paradise, by F. Scott Fitzgerald

DIY Sous Vide Cooking

2011-11-19T22:16:00.000-08:00

1. Make your own for ~50-75: http://makeprojects.com/Project/Sous-Vide-Immersion-Cooker/471/1

2. Or not...: http://www.seriouseats.com/2010/04/cook-your-meat-in-a-beer-cooler-the-worlds-best-sous-vide-hack.html

On Poops and Plants

2011-11-19T18:09:00.000-08:00

http://www.podiumcycling.com/

So. Hot! All I need to do is put some leds on my bike and get reflective rims/handlebar tape. My bike has been so neglected ever since I came back, whilst my car is getting a beating.

Do any of you have small "wins" at life? One of my small wins at life is maximizing MPG. Every time I drive, it's a game to see if I can increase my total overall average, or at least prevent it from dropping. There's actually a valid term for this (didn't know before): hypermiling. Some general advice for first-time hypermilers.

Now, I'm going to digress.

When I was younger, I liked three things: reading, playing in the backyard, and pooping. Two out of the three could be done in the bathroom, so I often read while on the loo. I didn't have a lot of books to read from, and I had yet to discover the public library, so I would flip through a book on DIY home improvement. Behold the glorious, glossy pages depicting all sorts of neat things (having skipped the plumbing section, of course)! This is where I picked up a whole bunch of household tricks: burying half empty beer bottles into the dirt to attract slugs to a drunken death, for one. Or the correct pruning techniques for various plants and trees, for another.

Which leads me to now! With the growing popularity of the Slow Foods movement, eating all things organic, and the desire to save money while still having the best, urban gardening is a frontier to be explored. I should be an urban farmer. Think about it: Set up custom, attractively raised vegetable/herb gardens for wealthy families for an initial fee, check in every couple weeks for basic pruning, profit enormously. Buy a couple acres of land, raise chickens and goats; make fresh goat milk with fresh herbs, profit (or, source to upscale restaurant focusing on local produce). Sell chicks/eggs to prospecting urban gardeners, profit. Rent out goats for environmentally-friendly lawn mowing (free fertilizer!), profit. Seriously! I keep telling people it'll catch on, but whatever.

In any case, urban farming has become a hobby of mine. I started out with a basic variety of herbs: rosemary, basil, chives, sage, oregano, mint, and thyme. Soon after I forayed into vegetables, beginning with two varieties of peas and the all-important beefsteak tomato. Around this time I also had chili peppers and bittersweet melon seedlings, which are quite easy to grow. And the only thing any of them needed were just a few packs of steer manure. Biggest turnaround for a 2 buck chuck you'll ever find (well, better than chugging that Charles Shaw, right?). Now it only makes sense to let my plants flower, so I can collect and save the seeds for future use. The circle of life!

You can tell that I'm being cruel and letting half of my plants wander over to the trellis, as opposed to building two sides. Suit my needs, plant!

Another plus is that if you compost as well, you will be able to minimize waste while maximizing benefits. Coffee grounds, too-ripe fruits/vegetables, lawn trimmings, leaves, shredded newspaper, egg shells... All are perfectly viable options. Then you wouldn't even need to buy fertilizer.

2011-11-18T16:05:00.001-08:00

Pure gold!

2011-11-15T17:51:00.000-08:00

She said, "Listen, baby. You can hear the engine ring. We've been up and down this highway;
haven't seen a goddamn thing."

2011-11-13T21:41:00.000-08:00

The hatch burger from Umami. Ask for extra chili peppers and lettuce and tomato. It's good (drunk) food.

Mm... Moscow mule. A Stone IPA makes an appearance, though briefly.

My extra dry martini with a lemon. I asked for a lemon peel and look what happens... How are you gonna do me dirty in a restaurant that provides a full bar?

Um... My "business" cards have arrived.

Originally the plan was to do a Riesling tasting at 320 South and have a late lunch there, but coincidentally again the chef was out sick. So the owner let us hang out for a bit and poured a couple different tastes, which included Bollig-Lehnert and the late harvest by J Lohr. I still like Joh. Jos. Prüm the best though. But the point is, we couldn't eat there, so the next best option turned out to be Umami (need to redeem those Groupon-esque tickets for drinks), where I claimed my new-found love for Moscow mules. Also garnered a new appreciation for martinis.

2011-11-10T10:49:00.000-08:00

Hello, old friend.

2011-11-08T17:47:00.000-08:00

These mighty scholars may have written many evil things or many foolish things, and been laughably ignorant of the germ theory of disease or the place of the terrestrial globe in the solar system, let alone the universe, and this is the plain reason why there are no more of them today, and why there will be no more of them tomorrow. Religion spoke its last intelligible or noble or inspiring words a long time ago: either that or it mutated into an admirable but nebulous humanism... We shall have no more prophets or sages from the ancient quarter, which is why the devotions of today are only echoing repetitions of yesterday, sometimes ratcheted up to screaming point so as to ward off the terrible emptiness...

"Pig's head on a stick," says the nervous but stoutheaded Ralph in the face of the buzzing, suppurating idol (first killed and then worshipped) that has been set up by cruel, frightened schoolboys in Lord of the Flies. "Pig's head on a stick." And he was more right than he could have known, and much wiser than his elders as well as his delinquent juniors.

- Christopher Hitchens

2011-11-05T21:52:00.000-07:00

Currently reading God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything, by Christopher Hitchens.

A detour from medieval fantasy and romantic crime thrillers. But what to read next? I'm not too interested in finishing A Song of Ice and Fire series. I've also been reading, albeit sporadically, Giambattista Basile's The Tale of Tales, which is too similar to Boccacio's Decameron. Copycat! The good thing is you can pick it up again as you please without worrying too much about where you left off.

Here's my to-read list so far.

1. The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer - Siddhartha Mukherjee

2. Charles Darwin: The Power of Place - Janet Browne

3. The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America's Great Migration - Isabel Wilkerson

4. Cutting for Stone - Abraham Verghese

2011-11-04T20:14:00.001-07:00

Teehee, hazelnut. Cheers.

2011-11-02T15:39:00.000-07:00

I chose you. Nobody gave you to me. Nobody said that's the one for you. I picked you out. Wrong time, yep... But the picking out, the choosing. Don't ever think I fell for you, or fell over you. I didn't fall in love, I rose in it. I saw you and made up my mind. My mind.

- Jazz, by Toni Morrison

2011-11-01T21:31:00.000-07:00

How I measure my dog.

My life in three pictures

2011-10-30T18:15:00.000-07:00

1. The spicy hotpot that melts my taste buds off;

2. The diabeetus in half a dozen six-inch hazelnut cookies;

3. The beer.

2011-10-28T17:06:00.001-07:00

Oh, The Office. Never disappoints.

Loved the Kerrigan reference.

2011-10-27T23:47:00.000-07:00

George R.R. Martin, you have wasted half of my week with your pathetic read. I had to slap myself through 800+ pages of nonsensical plot-weaving and elementary diction, telling myself it would improve soon enough. Yet no salvation greeted me at the end of a conclusion so yawn-inducing and predictable that I should have sliced my eyes out right then and there.

You need to work on expanding your vocabulary. This is obvious within the first 200 pages of a very boring read. But this is the least of your concerns.

The number of character dissimilarities is jarring. The relationship between Daenerys Targaryen and Khal Drogo, for example. Cringe-inducing! On the other hand, the personality of Catelyn Stark takes the novel from one spectrum to sheer disbelief; undoubtedly, you had a writer's block and did not bother to continue the book in the first direction. Really, wtf?

Also, how do you manage to make a fantasy novel sound unbelievable? Anything can happen in fantasy, and yet the way in which you string events together is so incredulous that the book had no merit in the end. Forget any sort of "greater philosophy" to be found.

Lastly... Just... Why? Your effort at third person limited point of view for the entirety of 800+ pages creates so much goddamn repetition, keeps characters flat, and dashes the hopes of the reader. There is a reason why it's an undesirable writing style, but I suppose you just had to be oh-so-innovative. You build up a great battle scene, suspense scene, etc... And then you switch to a boring setting about a subject of lesser importance. By the time I actually get around to reading what happens next in the original scene (because damn it, there's always at least 3 perspectives in-between), I have forgotten and no longer care. These are the pivotal moments in the book, where you cause the reader to commit, and you always chose to disengage. WHY?

I demand my wasted time back! You were just as bad as Tuesdays with Morrie! Now I can't sleep because I'm too busy brooding about it.

2011-10-24T23:52:00.000-07:00

So tired from LSAT class these days. Love this song though.

2011-10-22T20:05:00.000-07:00

Harder and harder to find tulips... Fall is not the season for them.

2011-10-20T11:54:00.001-07:00

2011-10-19T22:27:00.001-07:00

My autonomy is one of the things I value most above all. Not having to report my whereabouts to anyone, nor having to explain myself for the sake of upsetting someone. In short, the "Do what I want" mentality. It's not that I use this as an opportunity to be frivolous with my feelings; indeed, it is more likely that I use it for the exact opposite. For example, to not engage in meaningless chitchat; to not hop on the bandwagon to nowhere because it is socially expected; to spend more time discovering myself than be bothered with learning about the particular boring-ness of others.

Ugh. Can you imagine that? "How are you, how is the weather, my cat had enough sleep today, what about this season eh? Nice climate for broccoli, I've heard. By the way, the Johnsons are re-doing their front porch next week! It'll be cream instead of beige. Shouldn't they be concerned that the Walstons will complain? Perhaps we should all get together and watch the paint dry." Why does this exist again?

Subconsciously I apply a "WHO CARES" test to everything anyone says. For example:

A: "I woke up a minute later than usual"

WHO CARES? Nobody.

B: "I just ran a marathon"

WHO CARES? Perhaps you've just peaked the interests of some.

C: "I cured cancer"

WHO CARES? Everybody.

Why would anyone want to give up his/her autonomy to be subjected to meaningless conversations? Also, the chances of being on the receiving end of some "double rainbow pony ride" to Cheese land increases dramatically. I'm not thirteen years old anymore, you can't equivocate being in a relationship to Happy Dandy Land. You think it's cute, I just know it's immature and unrealistic. It's the same tactic super super seniors use on naive freshmen girls. "You are so interesting, and so unique, I promise I will never hurt you and always make you smile." You think that sounds better than Cyrano de Bergerac? Or love letters from a professor in Falling Leaves? Hell no.

Relationships are overrated, predictable, and cost more than they bestow. They are challenging only in the emotional sense, and offer none in the mental sense. Most are between two people who are too scared to be alone. In a pathetic attempt at finding a sense of self-worth they cling onto each other, a dual parasitism that eventually deteriorates until the next host comes along. I don't need someone to continuously kiss my ass, compliment me on the most mundane actions, and say flowery things that take too long yet mean little when translated into action.

Biking to Cogswell Dam

2011-10-16T20:48:00.000-07:00

Trololol

2011-10-16T00:50:00.000-07:00

Pork Lumpia

2011-10-14T18:32:00.000-07:00

Basic ingredients: Ground pork, a few stalks of celery, water chestnuts, small onions, garlic, oyster sauce, soy sauce, black pepper, mixed vegetables (could always use random ones in your fridge to a certain extent- string beans, green beans, carrots, etc)

Cooked the minced pork/garlic/onions out with oyster and soy sauce. Drain it before wrapping in lumpia paper. Seal with egg wash. You can probably tell which ones are mine based on whether or not the ends are tucked in.

So I was trying to take a "pretty" picture for the longest time, but after watching me in mild bemusement, M said, "You can't ever take a pretty picture of Filipino food. It's not meant to be dainty, it's meant to be consumed heartily." I agree.

This has nothing to do with lumpia, but I couldn't pass up a slice of ube cake if I was going to the Filipino supermarket anyway.

Typical day in LA... Universal filming on the least-practical street to film on.

Mm... Lumpia. This is weird to say but I never liked egg rolls of any sort. In fact, I vehemently disapproved of such an atrocity. Something about soggy, fried vegetables rendering everything tasteless. I dislike noodles in my egg rolls (rice noodle in a rice-based wrap... Redundancy much?), so spring rolls were out too. Still order them from time to time but for the most part, I find them boring.

The first time I had lumpia was at my childhood friend's friend's friends and family birthday gathering. It was just about as awkward as it sounds. Since I didn't recognize anyone, I busied myself with setting up the food table. My friend's mom unwrapped the aluminum party tray, and I looked down at all those little teeny-tiny egg rolls. "Eh," I thought, and popped one as a snack. Soon I was figuring how to cover up the growing dent in the party tray.

After that, my experience with lumpia dwindled and I forgot I had any cravings about it. Then college came, cue my roommate going, "My mom made a whole bunch of these," and it all hit me like the simultaneous realization that my 20-page research paper was due. It was a hard decision. Let's just say that I didn't sleep that night, but I didn't go hungry either.

Anyway, lumpia can be made in many different ways. I made Shanghai-style lumpia with my roommate's mom, but this particular recipe is the old-school style from M's grandma. Cooking the filling before wrapping it lessens frying time, and therefore makes the vegetables less soggy.

2011-10-13T22:06:00.000-07:00

The best way to spend Sunday morning

2011-10-09T10:20:00.000-07:00

A new book, a steaming cup of Blue Bottle coffee, and cookies smothered in Nutella. Definitely going to skip my morning run.

An update on plants

2011-10-04T08:15:00.000-07:00

Remember when I just planted peas?

Well now they've grown enough to transplant!

Tomato plants still sleeping though

Popcorn Three Ways

2011-10-03T14:50:00.000-07:00

Cinnamon sugar, Parmesan herb, and Traditional kettle

I don't know why it has taken me so long to come to this, but now that I have it seems obvious that I am never returning to "ready-pop" popcorn again.

The myth that popcorn needs oil in order to pop is greatly untrue. All that is required is heat, but oil and butter do help in preventing early-popped kernels from burning up. I tried two methods in making popcorn: the first is the old-fashioned stove top for kettle corn, and the second is the lazy microwave method for more savory popcorn.

Kettle corn:

1/3c of sugar (a mix of brown and regular granulated would be deliciously gourmet, but I only used granulated)
1/2c of popcorn kernels
a few tablespoons of olive oil

Heat olive oil in a large pot with a lid on medium heat. Throw in three kernels, and once the first one has popped, quickly dump the 1/2c of kernels in, along with the sugar. Tilt the lid (so that the steam can escape) and shake the contents thoroughly to make sure that the sugar is evenly distributed and won't burn. After the popping has been reduced to once every 2-3 seconds, quickly take the pot off the stove.

Parmesan herb:

1/4c of popcorn kernels
paper bag
rosemary, thyme
grated Parmesan
tablespoon of melted butter
salt and pepper to taste

Place kernels in paper bag, then roll up the bag. I stapled the corner of mine so that the heat can escape but the kernels won't. Set the microwave to 3 minutes, but remove once the popping has been reduced. Chop herbs, mix with butter, and toss with popcorn. Salt and pepper to taste. Sprinkle with grated Parmesan.

Cinnamon sugar:

1/4c popcorn kernels
paper bag
cinnamon
granulated sugar
tablespoon of melted butter

Follow the same method as the herb popcorn, but dissolve sugar in butter first. I should note that it is important to use unsalted butter. Toss with popcorn and sprinkle with cinnamon.

Other delicious ideas include sprinkling with curry powder, garlic powder, cajun seasoning, or red pepper flakes. To stay on the sweet side, toss with melted marshmallows and drizzle with chocolate.

Sinigang na Baboy (Sour Soup with Pork)

2011-09-28T13:08:00.000-07:00

Prep

Traditionally, it looks like this

But I love the crisp flavors of bean sprouts and cilantro...

Sinigang is, you guessed it... A Filipino tamarind-based soup. Can be made with fish, chicken, shrimp, beef, virtually anything, really, but I prefer pork. I find that pork neckbones are nice to use because the bits of fat clinging to them add flavor and another level of depth.

The first time I had sinigang was at M's place... It was magical. It was the first time I ever had a sour broth and it worked beautifully against the fatty bits of meat that would fall off the bone oh so easily. And all those gelatinous bits around the joints! Lip smacking deliciousness. I begged for the recipe. The magical elixir broth! It is easier than you would believe, but you don't have to take my word for it, you can make it for yourself. Serves around 6-8.

You need:

pack of pork neckbones, around 4-5 lbs (the more the merrier)
5-6 yellow chili peppers
2 medium potatoes
1 large tomato
1 medium to large onion
3/4 garlic clove, minced
bok choy
1 large carrot
1 tamarind packet
olive oil
salt to taste
Optional: cilantro and bean sprouts

Some people don't like the "porkiness" of pork. How do I describe this? It's akin to the "lambiness" of lamb, only with pork. What I do to cut this down is bring a large pot of water to boiling, put the neckbones in for around 30 seconds, then pour the whole thing out into the sink. Rinse gently under the faucet and do some cleaning (pull out the carotid artery, for one). Helps to sanitize as well. Put the neckbones back in, refill with water, and set on the stove.

At the same time, heat up another pot with a tablespoon or two of olive oil. Toss the minced garlic around for a few seconds, then add around 7 cups of water. Stir in tamarind packet. Yes, it will be very sour- yes, that is fine because you have another large pot of water with the pork. The point of adding the tamarind in separately is to prevent over-souring your soup and making it inedible.

When the pot with tamarind comes to a boil, add in the diced carrots and tomatoes. At the same time, ladle out the frothy layer in your pot of pork. When the tamarind pot comes to a boil again, ladle out the vegetables and put in in with the pork. Add in tamarind broth to your liking (I added by ladles each time I something new was introduced to the pot, tasting along the way). A pinch of salt here, a tablespoon of fish sauce there... It won't hurt.

Simmer for at least 20-30 minutes, then drain your potatoes and add them to the pot. Simmer for another 10 minutes, then add onion. Simmer again and add the yellow chili peppers (remember to de-seed them). In the last 5 minutes, add bok choy.

Optional

When you are ready to eat it, add bean sprouts to your serving bowl immediately, so that they have enough time to cook. Personally I dislike eating under-cooked bean sprouts. Top with cilantro. I love cilantro.

2011-09-26T15:43:00.000-07:00

My KBBQ-eating outfit! A big sweater with the hood on.

11AM is the earliest I've ever eaten AYCE KBBQ.

Tomato Soup- No cans necessary (Vegan friendly)

2011-09-24T11:07:00.000-07:00

My go-to breakfast at home is a hard-boiled egg with no yolk, fruit, and a mug of black coffee. If I'm eating out, then all hope is lost and I order anything I want: eggs benedict, wheat toast with blackberry jam, a blueberry bagel with cream cheese, Belgian waffles, home-fried potatoes, ice-cream, a caramel-mocha-hazelnut-frappa-latte-espresso-extreme... Because why not?

Well I was boiling eggs today and happened to look outside the window... How dreary! Fall is surely just around the bend. The kind of weather that makes you want to curl under the covers, drink chai tea, and make kettle popcorn. Who wants to eat hard-boiled eggs in this weather? Not me anymore.

This version of tomato soup has no cream, no butter, no cheese, no canned tomatoes, no canned/boxed anything. It does, however, have a spicy kick that warms your stomach up better than tequila. So enjoy! It's perfectly healthy. Serves around two, it's forever-alone friendly.

You need:

3 - 4 large tomatoes
3/4 - 1 clove of garlic
1 jalapeno (I used 2, but beware!)
herbs (thyme, rosemary, oregano, basil)
1/4 - 1/2 medium onion
2 stalks of celery
1 - 2 tablespoons of olive oil
cayenne red pepper
salt and pepper to taste

Halve the tomatoes and set them on a baking sheet along with jalapenos, onions, and peeled garlic. Sprinkle everything with olive oil; for tomatoes, add salt, pepper, cayenne pepper, thyme, oregano, and rosemary. Set in oven at 375-400F for around 30 minutes. Whenever you think they are sufficiently roasted.

At the same time, put ~4 cups of water into a pot with chopped celery, a sprig of rosemary/peppercorns/bay leaf (fish it out later before it falls apart) on a slow simmer. Some carrot if you so wish. This is in place of using broth from a box. When roasted tomatoes/garlic/jalapenos are done, smash everything to smithereens. I started out with a knife and spoon but soon got tired and turned to the blender. Took out all the herbs swimming in the pot and blended everything. After that's done, return to pot and simmer out until you reach the desired consistency. If you are having trouble, a pinch of starch may do the trick. Just makes sure it's fully incorporated. I added a smidgen of soy sauce. But I digress...

Here's the dilemma! Everyone knows you need to add fresh bits of basil a few moments before taking the pot off the stove- but what about cilantro? Some people hate it and some people love it. I happen to love it, so I threw in a few chopped leaves for good measure.

Well, there you have it! Basic tomato soup. Feel free to add a Parmesan crust on top, mix in Gorgonzola, use as dip for sourdough bread, top with bacon bits, etc.

2011-09-23T15:08:00.000-07:00

GTL baby what it do

Yay waist-deep grass around me

Dumb flies...

"Smile!" *click*

Eh...?

"Smile!"

LOL WAT *flails around*

Hiking at Cobb Estate in Pasadena. I do love me some hiking.

Graham Crackers

2011-09-22T16:49:00.000-07:00

Hm... Not an even sprinkle of cinnamon sugar... Nevertheless...

Did I ever tell you I wanted to date/marry a baker a long(ggg...) time ago? To be fair this was a long time ago. The idea of waking up to freshly baked scones and bagels was oh-so-romantic to me. Yes, forget those teenage dreams of riding along in your boyfriend's pick-up to McDonald's, making out sloppily in the last row of the movie theatre, or finagling booze from the neighborhood liquor store. My simple dream was baking breads.

Punching out dough, floury hands, kneading, adjusting recipes together as the entire house filled up with the smell of perfect crackly bread... my, my! Unfortunately you would be hard pressed to find a guy who bakes, much less still makes these things by hand. Even less all done in the early morning. So, there went my dream. Poof.

But wait. The dream must continue, if I have something to say about it! So here I am, years later, slaving away, my poor unstable oven and I, trying to figure out the perfect way to make the perfect bread. Well, today is not so much about bread (which makes for a nice reprieve), but rather cheesecake. Cheesecake? Yes, cheesecake. The first step to making cheesecake is the graham cracker crust, so today I made some graham crackers to test the waters. In the shape of gingerbread men, because "too-lazy-to-cut-cutely-myself-if-going-to-smash-into-smithereens" mentality.

I am still working on discovering the secret to the Cheesecake Factory's magical Godiva Chocolate Cheesecake though. This mission has not been forgotten.

Yard Work and Wheat-ish Garlic Rosemary Focaccia

2011-09-20T16:57:00.000-07:00

Bitter melon plants and Serrano pepper sprouts

One of my chickens... He's a grumpy old fart, but so soft!

Potato sprouts to be planted soon

Ingredients for focaccia: flour, rosemary, garlic, lemon/maltose, olive oil

Yes, it is true that I know nothing of portion control

I woke up this morning and turned my front garden inside out. The neighbor's tree keeps spreading its roots and choking up everything that grows there; as a result, any soil soon turns into a dry desert. I've suggested a raised garden bed but still... Those damn roots. If you have any suggestions on how to subtly kill a tree please send them my way.

So, onto more bread-like things.

Why didn't I think of making foccacia earlier? All the bready flavor without risking the density. The lack of milk or butter help make this type of bread light and airy. It would also make a nice easy, gourmet pizza dough.

I recently bought a bulk bag of wheat flour, so I substituted half of flour requirements for wheat. The rest is a standard bread flour. Also, I didn't have honey in my cupboard so I resorted to using maltose sugar and half the juice of a lemon to lessen its stickiness.

Herbs

2011-09-19T21:12:00.000-07:00

Wonder if I have enough...

Spongey: Why'd you sprinkle water on me...?

Amused by grass

Spongey: Okay...

Coco: Hm... NOMNOMNOM.

Good Food Festival

2011-09-17T22:44:00.000-07:00

Border Grill Truck

I forgot where this came from... But it is a pesto chicken wrap. They made some chipotle sauce from scratch so I had to try.

Always a battle with the sun. Always.

Not pictured was a fat bag of macaroons from Duverger. Note to self: Make pesto. Everything tastes good with pesto. Also, save money, make macaroons.

The festival was okay- I think it needs booze and live music. Otherwise the vendors are way too serious and shy to market their goods effectively. I mean, surely you can't sell "Organic Bitches' Brew" coffee without some kind of relaxed attitude? Booze was probably off-limits due to the location, but man, a cold beer on a hot day like today would surely have hit the spot.

I sat next to Jimmy Kimmel! Actually, I was already sitting down when he asked me if he could sit there. This marks the third consecutive time since summer began that I've bumped into a "celebrity" and did not realize it until someone else pointed it out. Lol. Definitely not cut out to be a paparazzo.

They were also selling CSA shares! Tempting. Something I've been trying to get my parents into (along with going out, trying new foods, banking online, etc...). Baby steps.

2011-09-10T00:09:00.000-07:00

From Moulin Rouge

Ewan McGregor is my biggest celebrity crush, especially after Big Fish. He was also in Down With Love, which I loved for its stylistic approach. He's an extremely versatile actor, and ~~probably~~ my only man-crush. This is important! I hardly ever have any crushes on male celebrities, I find the great majority of them to be vapid air-breathers. Brad Pitt? Forget about it. Joseph Gordon-What'sHisFace? No way. Orlando Bloom? Ha ha. The guys from Glee? Lmfao.

But not Ewan McGregor! He is pure suave, not "swag". A classic man's man! Someone you can have a beer with and then promptly head over to a black-tie affair the next moment. I wish the world would take note. No more ugly saggy-yet-tight-pants or hipster beanies in 90+ Fahrenheit weather! None of these ugly sleeve tattoos that, upon closer inspection, turn out to be stars or sparkles or other atrocious things. I firmly put my foot down on guys who take longer than me to get ready. Damn.

Whatever happened to old-school fellas? Did the idea of the league of extraordinary gentlemen dissipate as time moved on and girls fell for the Bieber? Ugh. Sad, really. All of a sudden everyone loves flashing lights and wearing strange gimmicky Halloween costumes.

Anyway, he's probably the hottest actor in the world. Badassery below:

LA Fair

2011-09-09T21:23:00.000-07:00

It looks like a ghost town, but mostly because I was being too awkward penguin to take pictures with people in them.

Never too early to go to the race tracks.

Teehee. My minion.

Remember never to let me order sugary drinks again. Bleehh. I love sugar but the piña colada is too damn sweet! Also, how did I ever enjoy life without booze?

2011-09-08T16:53:00.000-07:00

I didn't know LSAT questions were so crushing.

Three Herb Garlic Bread

2011-09-07T17:27:00.000-07:00

My first batch, separated into two baguette-sized loaves. I didn't mix the flour thoroughly, nor did I let them rise enough before popping into the oven, so they are a tad lumpy. And over-baked.

The second time around it came out much softer and lighter. Phew.

There is nothing quite like making your coffee in the morning and waiting for freshly baked bread to come out the oven. The holy grail of herbs- rosemary, sage, and thyme- infused with the aroma of chopped garlic cloves in bread, will make you never want for store-bought bread again. Best part(s) of this recipe are that it requires no kneading, no pin rolling, no bread maker, no professional mixers. Also, garlic bread that is not greasy. Hurray!

Double Chocolate Cupcake Brownies

2011-09-03T23:30:00.000-07:00

Melty goodness

Personal preference: Pouring beer into a glass to drink from.

I hate cleaning up. Cupcake brownies are a great way to save plates and crumbs on the floor, so it seems logical that this is the only route I take when making brownie-related goods. In addition, baking cupcake-size brownies not only makes for easier distribution, but also creates a great crunchy "muffin top-esque" layer.

This is turning into a food blog... Blearghs. I swear it is not. But so hard when I feel more and more like making things that I crave!

Lately I have a growing obsession with baking bread... We shall see what's for Sunday breakfast.

Oxtail Noodle Soup

2011-08-31T20:22:00.000-07:00

Soup not pictured

Via slow cooker. Making noodle soup is a time-consuming effort, best left alone.

You need:

tomatoes
onions
carrots
potatoes
your favorite Chinese/Japanese curry sauce, in cubes
pack of oxtails

Cut vegetables into ~1 inch pieces. It's rustic. Combine with curry cubes and oxtails into slow cooker, throw in salt and stock as necessary. Leave overnight. Throw in pieces of celery a few hours before eating if desired. Cook noodles, serve with cilantro on top.

Lazy Woman's Cookies

2011-08-29T12:12:00.000-07:00

Close-up of Lupicia's Paradise Green Tea

Some days after running you just think, "Oh, I feel like eating fresh cookies. But I'm lazy and I don't want to get all the ingredients."

This recipe is perfect for that day, which for me was today. Minimal ingredients, and the variety is limitless.

You need:

2c flour
1c loosely packed brown sugar
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
vanilla
cinnamon
1 large egg
1 egg yolk
3/4 - 1 stick of butter

Cut butter into cubes and set aside. Combine egg and egg yolk, set aside. Combine dried ingredients (flour, sugar, baking soda, cinnamon) until everything is evenly mixed. Throw in vanilla and cubes of butter. Knead with fingers, taking care to distribute butter all around the flour. Lastly, add the egg and blend until dough forms. Form into cookies, place in oven at 375F for 13 min or until ready.

These won't come out terribly sweet, which makes them great for altering. You can bake them with peanut butter (popular twist is to place a mini Reese's peanut butter cup in the middle prior to oven), any kind of jam, marshmallow, or spread with cream cheese frosting. Substitute some flour for oats, add nuts, dried cranberries... The list goes on.

Sunday Morning Cinnamon Croissants- The best of both worlds

2011-08-28T08:36:00.000-07:00

Mixing

Looks like pizza! Kinda. Sorta. Not really.

My one okay 'croissant', and other deformities

Some people like cinnamon buns for their cinnamon sweetness, and some people like croissants for their beautiful flakiness. Some people like to have their cake and eat it too, so this is a nice concoction to have all the things you like in both baked goods without having to eat twice the amount of carbs.

For the croissants, all you need is a simple classic-croissant recipe. And if you're lazy, buy the already pre-made refrigerated dough in your nearest grocery store. After you have your dough, separate into triangle-shaped pieces about 1/2 cm in height. Thinner is better. You're almost ready to wrap! You just need the cinnamon goodness.

You need:

1/4c butter at room temperature
1c brown sugar
4 teaspoons cinnamon

Combine, and spread over triangle pieces. Roll from bottom to tip of triangle (NOT the other way around, or it turns into some weird pastry, as evidenced by some of my misfortunes), and bend into a crescent shape. Put them all on a baking sheet and pop into oven at 375F for 11-15 minutes or until top is golden brown. At this point, you may have some leftover cinnamon mixture. Spread over bread before toasting in toaster oven for a delicious cinnamon butter, or combine into your favorite French Toast recipe.

2011-08-26T14:07:00.000-07:00

Hand-squeezed orange juice

Last time I went to my grandma's she gave us a huge bag of oranges. I couldn't eat them all, so I juiced them instead. Real orange juice actually looks golden orange, not yellow. And juicing a large bag (akin to a 40-50 lb bag of rice) turns out about 1.5 containers of the "Simply Orange" brand.

Pre-Hike Energy Smoothie

2011-08-26T13:53:00.000-07:00

An alternative to trail mix

You need:

1/2c cooked oatmeal (1/4c dry)
1 small banana
whatever berries you like
splash of orange juice
ice
vanilla syrup
greek, plain, whatever-you-like yogurt

Cook oatmeal first, set inside freezer to cool. Mix everything together and blend until smooth. Customize as you like, with protein powder or cottage cheese or a tablespoon of peanut butter. Freeze your fruits overnight to get a better consistency.

The North Face

2011-08-24T19:07:00.000-07:00

I finally have my first North Face clothing! My friend sent this to me as a birthday present. How sweet of her, right? I can't wait to test it out via hiking at night by starlight, camping, or doing anything else in cold weather. Bring itttt.

Dual Guilt-Free Whipped Cream & Instant Latte

2011-08-24T12:05:00.000-07:00

You need:

1c 2% milk (less than this and it won't whip)
vanilla syrup, peppermint flavor
ice
sweetener

Blend until dense and creamy. Eat by the bowl, with fruit, or pour in coffee for a low-calorie alternative to a chilled Caffè Latte without a machine. Warm up milk beforehand if you wish your drink to be hot.

2011-08-24T00:07:00.000-07:00

Ice-cream cake

Some more from my friend's camera. Girls = messy.

So today I went to Lawry's again with my brother, his girlfriend, and my parents. A redemption of an invitation to return, and a "real" birthday dinner, since my brother wasn't there before.

Photo Diary 8.18-8.22

2011-08-22T17:54:00.000-07:00

View from Yamashiro Hollywood during its weekly farmer's market

A view of Hollywood

Hollywood Bowl for Beethoven's 9th, performed by the LA Philharmonic and the LA Chorale. One of my favorite things to do during the summer is pack a lunch, some crackers, wine, beer, meats, cheeses, kettle corn, and fruits, then haul the whole thing over for a Bowl concert. Daughter of Elysium, indeed.

FREE Live jazz at the LACMA... Meaning more wine, cheese, and prosciutto.

Music was pretty happening!

Went around the back for a better view and sound

Culina at the Four Seaons... Bleh. Worst tasting prosecco I've ever had. Also ordered squid ink pasta, which didn't come out as tasty nor unique as I had hoped for. But, the ambiance was amazing.

Goat cheese and braised lamb open-faced sandwich at 320 wine lounge. The day before the chef had been out so the owner offered a wine card and even reimbursed our parking... Needless to say a return was a must. I tried the best Riesling I ever had here, but the only name I can remember at the moment is Far Niente's Cabernet Sauvignon.

Flat iron steak with roquefort

View from PH Westgate's Suite

At the Marquee in Vegas. I only took two pictures, and this is one of them.

Hiking down Malibu

My favorite private beach spot! The beach was strikingly different than the last time I went, which was only a few months ago. Dead lobsters (one was about 5 lbs, huge!) littered the beach, along with crabs and sea urchins. Wonder what happened :( Also wished for some butter and a bonfire.

I tried a lot of things for the first time this month. My first balloon ride, professional massage (no shady business!), squid ink pasta. So. Much. Fun. But now, time to buckle down for the LSATs.

Thanks for the birthday wishes!

2011-08-17T09:08:00.001-07:00

Stop that... -_-

Love, Spongey & I

Photo Diary 8.11.11

2011-08-11T23:19:00.000-07:00

The beginning of a series of pinching-balloon pictures

Fail picture is fail

Went so low you could practically grab an orange yourself!

The 'back-up'; that thing was HOT!

Going up in the clouds... Super cool.

Vineyards :)

Deflating balloon is sad

Cheers!

2011-08-05T13:49:00.000-07:00

Runyon Canyon is a little overrated but offers a good workout nonetheless. Good enough for food trucks, at least!

Flutterphants

2011-08-05T08:50:00.001-07:00

Pretty. Oooh. Ahh.

2011-08-02T21:42:00.001-07:00

WhyamIsoclumsy :( :( :(

2011-08-01T08:59:00.001-07:00

Etsy Finds

2011-07-31T15:59:00.001-07:00

1. Rose and Raven

2. Madeline's Wardrobe

3. Pieces & Chloe

2011-07-29T23:51:00.001-07:00

http://www.futilitycloset.com/2008/07/09/applied-math/

Summer Cravings

2011-07-29T19:35:00.001-07:00

Make-up:

1. Face- Laura Mercier. Probably the best anywhere for face products, especially those who break out easily (a la me) or are uncomfortable with the feel of too much foundation (oh hi again). They are famous for their tinted moisturizers, but I want to try their pressed and looser powder.

2. Brow- I need a gel. Transparent gel is nice. Never tried this brand but it is a top seller in the brow gel category. I try to avoid their foundations and eye shadows because it's usually too MAC-y for me. Currently I use brow wax by Givenchy, which doesn't work too well...

3. Eyes- Sucker here for liquid eyeliner. Always liked the idea of application via pen, less messy and a felt tip is always preferred over hard bristles.

4. Cheeks- Want to try this so bad! More than likely it will be tossed into the pile of make-up I buy because it's "pretty", but become too lazy to use (e.g. fake eyelashes, bronzer, concealer, eye shadow, lipgloss/stick(sss...), perfume... Does this count as make). Such is also the perfect concoction for the quiet storm of break-outs, which always seem to loom nearby.

5. Nails- I love orange :) But I can't wear nail polish too much or my nails will become brittle. But still. This is such a pretty color.