Sweet Chrysanthemum
Simon and I sum up three poems by Emily Dickinson for my paper.
258. Wah, I have SAD and I’m going to write a sad poem about it.
303. Wah, I’m a recluse and I’m going to write a poem romanticizing it so that I’ll look less pathetic.
520. Wah, I tried to take my dog for a walk, but the ocean had sex with me and it CAME IN MY SHOE. WHAT THE HELL OCEAN?!
Yes, I’m having trouble concentrating on my paper, why do you ask?
Oh dear. I’m supposed to be writing a very long, very dry (not actually a criteria, but it will be) paper on two early feminist poets, and to avoid it? I’m dyeing my hair and cleaning my house and cooking dinner for my soon-to-be husband. FEMINISM FAIL.
I’ll bet this cereal would put red hair on your chest.
catsforgold.com
teehee
I baked a cake. NOM NOM NOM YOU SHOULD TOO.
In all seriousness, I think this is the most grown-up tasting thing I’ve ever baked. It’s not too sweet, the flavour is super rich from the molasses and the blueberries make it amazingly moist. It kind of reminds me of the gingerbread one of our neighbours used to bring to our Guy Fawkes parties (yes I know, I’m Canadian and we don’t really do that, but ummm, excuse for giant bonfire? Okay!).
It’s also super duper easy, which you know, helps it to be awesome.
This is way too weird NOT to watch. On repeat.
Aerobic dance competition. Aerobic. Dance. Competition.
There’s lots of suggestive movements and a woman whose skin-tone tights don’t match her skin. And this weird interlocked, opposite-facing push up thing.
You’re welcome.
Holy shoot
I was just super assertive, and wrote the email I wanted to write and hit send, and the world didn’t implode. Huh. Cool.
An art gallery screwed up in framing a print of mine someone brought to them, an artist proof, so I don’t have an extra copy, and the frame shop *ripped it*. I told them exactly what a similar print would cost (a lot more than the original, which was made for a fundraiser when I was still in school) and that if they were not interested that that was fine. It’s a fucking good feeling. That’s all.

