what the frack is fracking?

I didn't know this until six hours ago, but apparently it's a process of mining natural gas that's been causing all kinds of hullabaloo in New York.

I figure it might be a good idea to find out more details before I go in to interview for a job campaigning for its demise.

Earth Justice
NYPIRG
Earth Times

warehouse conversion.

via homedesign.

never have i ever...

...felt more silly, poser-ish, and otherwise unfashionable then when I stepped off a Megabus in front of FIT.

I was wearing black yoga pants and a big maroon cable-knit grandpa pullover, and my hair was wisping (more like straggling) out of my so-tight-I-look-bald french braid. I think I was also wearing running shoes.

I shouldered my bright purple backpack, pretending I was totally too cool for the other Megabus passengers, and squinted up to figure out where the heck I was. That's when I saw them.

Gorgeous fashion students. Amazon-tall. Stabbing the sidewalk in four inch heels, garbed in luxurious dark fabrics, with perfect skin and stylishly un-styled hair, carrying bolts of other expensive looking fabric. I shrank down as I dialed my dad's number and wiped some sandwich crumbs off my sweater, whisper-begging, "Which way to the 1 train?" while they strode past me, laughing. But not at me. I hope.

Don't get me wrong: I like fashion, and usually I put a lot of effort into my outfits. (My old roommate used to make fun of me because I would spend an hour trying on different combinations just to go to class.) But you can just tell when clothes are expensive. The fabrics are smoother, the colors look more purposeful and less accidentally washed-out, the cuts are more precise, the drapes more dignified. Or maybe it's just the wearers' confidence. In any case, my clothes do not look like that. Probably never will.

Alas, Sartorialist. Your beautiful women are less personally threatening, but their style will always be just as unattainable.

freeganism.

Have you heard of these people?

They sound nuts.

But also awesome. (You don't have to agree. But one time, my housemate came back with a beautiful baguette after dumpster diving behind Trader Joe's.)

They remind me of a plan my housemates and I once made to ditch school, run away to Canada and forage to sustain ourselves. It was the night a big storm took out the entire school's power. We were all gathered in the living room; we scarfed down the ice cream melting in our freezer, laughed, made aforementioned school-ditching plans, and complained about how scary the dim emergency lighting was. I was thinking how cool it was that the lack of technology had forced us to hang out.

Post graduation anyone?

Kidding. I'm still a capitalist. I think.

happy birthday, mummers!

(A day early.)

Guess what we had for her birthday dessert?


Roasted over the new fire-pit installed by my world-class father :)

creme brulee french toast.

What I wish I had for breakfast:



What I actually had: 1/2 piece matzoh with peanut butter, steamed broccoli, and 1 scrambled egg with green peppers.

I hate shorts.

via smitten kitchen.

I'M BACK!

Whoo hoo!

After a--what, three month? two month? seemingly eternal?--hiatus, the fruit bowl is back!

I got sort of bogged down with school and personal stuff, but now finals have ended and I'm back in the lovely and economically thriving Newburgh, NY applying for about fifty summer jobs, of which I am likely to get none, and I have oodles of time in which to scan the internet for pretty pictures.

Ok, maybe not oodles, since I am going to the gym and cleaning and reading and errand-running and such. Like, maybe just one oodle. Which was plenty of time to bring you these:





via desire to inspire.