Crepes.

If you ate 329 crepes Thursday night, there's a good chance you ate one less than me. My friend Michael came to my home and cooked HOMEMADE crepes for me and my roommate. Before I get into the crepes, can I talk about the picture I just linked Michael to? This is actually him. He doesn't have a blog (that I know of) for me to link him to, but I still wanted you to have an image in your head to work with throughout this post. So I creepily went to his FBPPs (facebook profile pics) and picked this one of him at last year's Winter X Games.

The crepes. So Michael used to work at a crepe shop in Alaska, and when I found out, I began pestering him to make crepes for me. You see, my fiance (Matthew) and I tried to make crepes a few months back and we both were disappointed with the results. They were okaaaaay, but they didn't blow our whistles like we'd hoped they would. So when Michael offered to show me "the way" with his secret Alaskan family recipe, I was pumped. I was on fire, man. Couldn't wait to get those crepes into my scream-hole.

Thursday night was crepe night. Michael made chicken pesto (fav), strawberry nutella (fav), and banana peanut butter (FAV) ones. I wanted to take pictures with my Ashton Kutcher Nikon of each one, but I was too busy cramming them into my face. So I only got a couple pictures of the strawberry nutella ones. My b.

CREPES ARE SO DELICIOUS. I wish I could provide the recipe. I really do. I vaguely remember Michael saying something about equal parts something something. I'm such a crappy food blogger!

On a different note, I like the idea of providing pictures when I mention names. If you're my friend IRL (in real life) or on FB, you are at risk of being mentioned and linked to a picture of my choosing. So go ahead and eliminate the ones that embarrass you, for I will find it. This is my only warning. Cheers!

I hate your cat.

Someone wise once said, "My whole life I've been slow and passed it off as meticulous." 

It was actually one of my friends. They tweeted it. I just can't remember who.

I am slow. It is my nature. I am slow getting out of bed every single day of my life. I spend 45 minutes thinking about what I'm hungry for when I finally decide I'm hungry. I am slow to recover from an argument, even after its completely resolved. My hair grows slow. Things like that.

Here are some things I'm pretty quick at doing:

• Pointing out dogs in the backs of trucks.
• Eating green sour patch kids.
• Falling asleep.
• Putting on socks.
• Screaming when I see a spider.
• Crying when I see a lizard.
• Spotting all the fat babies in the restaurant and keeping my eye on them throughout dinner just in case they give me a second of eye contact.

...................................................................................................................................

I put a million periods there so I wouldn't have to come up with a smooth transition. So lazy. That doesn't get you famous. Not that I want to be famous or anything. I mean, who cares about this year's Eleventh Annual Bloggies? HA. Not me. I don't even know what those are. 

I'd like to apologize to my friends & followers for threatening your lives in my last post, then not following through with my end of the deal. I did not post a salad recipe the next day like I said I would. Sorry. I have no excuse. I just didn't do it. What a loser. 

But wait! I do have just a few pictures for you to look at. Feast your eyeballs.

Homemade blackberry creme brulee going into the oven.

Thats my man torching the sugar on top. He's so brave. But also he just loves fire s'damn much.

Strategy. Look at how he organized those pieces. I was a huge help in that process.

My new matte grey nail polish. I painted my nails because puzzles make me feel like a failure.

Grey nails + bling + new Anthropologie tea cup. 

Its been a busy last few weeks. This coming weekend will be the first since mine & Matthew's engagement that I don't have plans. I can't wait. Weeks are already busy, and busy weekends make things crazy in my head. I can't wait to get bored. That is totally my comfort zone. Like, totally. Like. 

Y'all, I love y'all. Srsly. g2g. 

Moments.

This is a pretty excellent video. I seriously felt that pre-tear sting in my nasal cavity at the end with the balloon. Videos get me, you guys. Also life. And margaritas.

I had a fabulous retreat of a Mardi Gras break. I slept a lot and ate a lot and napped a lot and watched a lot of movies. I spent most of my time under a blanket. I didn't fix my hair. I didn't wear makeup. I did see Rango and it was funny. I did eat 1 banana. I did make blackberry creme brulee. I did paint my nails, then peel the polish off less than 24 hours later. I did lose cellular service for 2 days. Amen.

I have class in 11 hours. Diagnostic Procedures. Where I'll learn the procedures for diagnosing speech & language disorders. Also how to administer and interpret different tests. Holla. Stoked about this class. My level of stoke for this class is surpassed only by my level of stoke for the salad I'm going to blog about tomorrow. Its going to be tasty supreme, so check back.

Or you'll never see me again.

Because I'll kill you.

:)

Tom Hanks pt. 2

It has hit me several times today that this is my last quarter as an undergraduate. My last quarter at Tech, my last quarter having the routine I've known for the past 4 years. My last quarter going to the bookstore to get a vitamin water, and my last quarter blogging in this awkward-smelling library.

But its also my first quarter blogging in said library.

So scratch that one.

I didn't come here today to be sappy or nostalgic. I came here to tell you that I'll be going on a short little blogging hiatus. By short, I really mean short. Like a little over a week. NBD. I'm going on an adventure with my main squeeze tomorrow. It involves mountains, grandparents, delicious food, relaxing, and wedding planning. When I return to the states, I'll have pictures to show you from our trip. I'll have recipes. I'll have giveaways (thats not true) and I'll have important announcements (thats also not true).

Oh, also we're not leaving the states. It just sounded legit. We're just going to Arkansas, people. My fiance will read this post and inform me that half of the content is just me telling lies. And immediately confessing to them. And then I'll explain that its just my style. And then he'll ask me if I'm packed and I'll say no. Because I always wait until 5 minutes prior to leaving to pack my things. Its just my style.

In conclusion, you're probably wondering why I've titled this post 'Tom Hanks pt. 2'. And the reason is because Tom's wife, Rita Wilson, wrote a fabulous article for Harper's Bazaar, and I'm going to post the link to it for you to read. Right here. Read it, its great. She's great. Tom is great. Their kids are great, and their family is one huge cluster of great. I love the Hanks's. Hanks'. Hank's. Hanks. Someone. Help me.

I'll talk to you guys in a week!

PS, you should all make a king cake for Mardi Gras, because homemade king cakes will make your skirt fly up. If you need a tasty recipe for one, here it is. My best gal pal, Brandi, has been making these the past few days and I plan to make one this weekend. Do it. Don't think about it. Do it.