Evaporation

There's an Angel's Share that mysteriously disappears from the mixing bowl of every baked good produced in my kitchen.



Sneaky angels.

(That's salted-butter caramel. The angels seemed to be particularly fond of it.)

Apocalypse

If the apocalypse actually happens tomorrow, you're all welcome to come over to my house for a post-apocalyptic brunch, say around 11 AM. (Assuming you can navigate the zombie hordes that I assume will be running rampant. My french toast is good, but you won't be able to fully appreciate it if you're suffering from a zombie bite, so please take appropriate precautions.)

We should establish a password though, so my boyfriend knows to not bash you in the head with his home-defense weapon of choice (a baseball bat) when you try to enter the premises. Preferably something that strikes fear into the hearts of our enemies at the same time. You know, something like, "SPOON!!" Yeah, let's go with that.

Disparities

I think I'm having a mid-life crisis entirely conducted in my own head.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the differences between who we actually are, who we think we are, who other people think we are, and who we aspire to be. It's funny how wide the differences between those versions of self can be.

Estival

The past year has been unseasonably and, dare I say, unreasonably cold in Southern California. We basically never had a summer - it was the coldest ever recorded - and there's been an unheard of amount of gloom and rain.

After this weekend, I think we're finally past that.