hello world.
fuzzy wuzzy
well folks, I was outta town most of the weekend, and I’ve discovered…
It is really, truly fall now. Rust colored trees,
chilly air, sitting by the fireplace,
these guys:
| sprouts on the stalk! |
and I finally busted out my new fleece-ish turtleneck I bought from Target in about August.
which brings me to my latest reflection… my sensory issues with clothing and deep, deep love for soft clothes and fuzzy warm things in the “brisk” months of minnesoter.
I have become very aware of my “needs” with clothes as I slowly turn into an old lady doing my crosswords and knitting in the fall/winter. Well, okay all of the time. My current “soft” obsessions include my knit leggings (um, they have stirrups…) from the Gap, my dilapidated white (now gray) wrap sweater I bought last winter (loved it to death, or at least its crappy american eagle quality shelf life)…, my fuzzy boots bought by my sister last birthday (worn most of the time i’m at home) and pashmina style scarf I bought for 9.99 somewhere and drape all over myself to keep my neck warm.
Past fuzzy wuzzy/ comfy loves that occasionally get loved by me are my purple yoga pants that I wore every day for about 5 years, my twins shirt from… childhood… and my “warning… contents of this shirt guarded by a jealous wife” with ammo… paper thing t-shirt I bought from Tatters a while back ($5?).
sidebar- is Tatters still open? I recently revisited uptown- there’s a “my sister’s closet” there now… huh.
Anyway, I’m tentatively happy that fall is definitely here. I bought some new sweaters and could do without the guilt of buying them and waiting to wear them!
This post brought to you by sundress, stirrup leggings, and shredded white/gray wrap sweater, and my new moccasin/slippers. Fuzzy Wuzzy extreme!
"Jazz"-m-tazz
Hi there trusted friends and fellows,
Today, I decided to have a relaxing Friday afternoon, kick up my heels (clean up the kitchen) and listen to one of two cds I got from the library the other day but had yet to listen to.
Track listing:
1.Concierto de Aranjuez- sounds classy!
2. Will O’ the Wisp- hmm, sounds jazzy! and a bit unconventional as well! cool!
3. The Pan Piper- does Miles not know that I play the part of the pan flute on all occasions?
4. Saeta- My Spanish doesn’t cover this one… sounds pretty…
5. Solea- ditto
What a great “sound” experiment this shall be, I think…
-I WILL have melancholic flashbacks of my apartment in Madrid
-THIS is the distinguished music I associate with Spain. (Juanes who? I don’t know what you’re speaking of…
-I AM the type of woman who listens to jazz and then slowly sips a vino tinto from the correct type of glass (there is in fact a… canned beverage in front of me… keepin it classy)
So, off I go!
Track 1 begins. I’m listening. From here on out this is just pure stream of consciousness. Sorry grammar police. However, if you were grammar police you would have stopped reading this by now.
Hmm, this starts a bit somber. Have I ever listened to jazz intentionally before? I like jazz, right? When is Miles Davis from? What does this music have to do with Spain? Why are there so many awkward pauses? it kind of sounds like… an old classic movie, shortly before someone dies. Yes, or before they kill themselves. Oh my god, this is awful. (I think track 2 might be on by now… although how anyone can tell the difference is beyond me)… hmm, I should really give this a chance. jazz is classy! and I play the pan flute and am a MUSICIAN! Why, in school I played piano, flute (regular) clarinet, guitar, violin, and the occasional assorted instrument we found in the band room…
Sweet crap, this NEVER gets better… I’m starting to feel depressed… the music of Spain as I recall (I’m getting less pretentious, slowly) was “pay no mind” by Beck, and assorted Manu Chao for walking around the city. On long bus trips the occasional Incubus as borrowed from my roommate. At times I would hear some sort of flamenco-rock “fusion” at clubs, or assorted american/british music from 5-6 years ago… (that is Europe people, not Spain)…
but this crap? What the dickens does this have to do with Spain? its AWFUL! The song on now… (why have I not turned this off… I guess Dad’s right, I am stubborn) sounds like a king processing down the damn main street in 1572. At least there’s an iota of pomp in this little bit… Now I’m feeling like Carrie in Sex and the City when she’s dating Jazz musician Ray King:
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| this episode |
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| remember this guy? |
“I don’t know how to tell you this… I HATE Jazz…”
classic episode. Much better than this garbage.
It is now off. Apparently I also. do not. like jazz.
And by the way, the other album I picked up from the library was Lily Allen’s “it’s not me, its you,” and its fabulous. take a listen if you haven’t already.
Have a great weekend!
coffee break!
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| Sorry about photo quality- taken from phone at work so as not to openly violate any HIPAA regulations… |
Greetings!
Red rooibos, chicory root, natural flavors, rosehips, cinnamon, lemongrass, peppermint, papaya, chamomile, panax ginseng leaves, anise seed, dandelion root, ginger root, orange oil and orange peel. Contains no sugar, artificial flavors, colors or preservatives. A natural source of antioxidants.
and each little bag has a nice quote on it. how sweet.
So I drink this tea like multiple times a day, it is so delicious. I never knew about it until about 9 months ago, the intern who used to share my desk with me on Mondays left me a little bag of treats when she was packing up her stuff. So of course I slowly drank my way through a few random chamomile and other herbal teas, until I stumbled upon this beauty, and then proceeded to stock up for the apocalypse lest they EVER STOP MAKING IT!
If you like spiced things, you will like this tea. Sometimes it gets a bit strong if I leave it in way too long, but I sort of have it down to a science how I prepare it with the hot water spout at work (FIrst I put in 1-2 inches of cold water so I can drink it as soon as its steeped… really, its a sad ritual…)
So… sensory revelation today is is enjoying my cinnamon crack with some lovely biscotti!
and… how was it, you ask?
Well, I’d really like to say it was the best biscotti I”ve ever had. But alas, it tasted just like any other cocoa flavored biscotti. Which is not to say it wasn’t a great mid morning treat, but the miracle italian caffe biscotti was mostly in my delusion, which played out similar to a cheeseball Maxwell House commercial or similar.
In my head, I was in bella tuscany. In real life, I was catching up on three days of work from my time in a similar haze with the flu. It is possible I am still delirious.
Ta!






