baby nick

 

baby nick came to play with us! although, he's looking a little bit more like little man nick and less like baby nick. he's so tall! and cruising around just like a little dude! he's a man of few words still - he totally understands everything you're saying but chooses to respond in points and grunts. he's giggly and smiley though and oh dear god, so cute! having babies around is always the best. 

homelife

homelife includes a lot of good food. most notably: white wine sangria and red wine sangria (options are importantly), caesar salad, steak and blue cheese bruschetta, grilled veggies, salmon with lemon dill sauce, wild rice with mushroom chicken, homemade pizza with homemade dough, fresh bread, chocolate chip cookies, tye dye cupcakes, and chocolate raspberry cheesecake. if ya'll want to be adopted, there's a waiting list.

beer

this has been a regular after-work occurrence. like afterschool snacks back in the day. but more liquid-y. and adult. there's something about the summer that makes me want to drink a beer. it's like the heat exists solely to enter my mind and swell my brain with thoughts of a cold lager.

in other news, a definite beer belly is forming on my frame.

heaven knows this cake's miserable now

i tried to bake a beautiful cake for my smith's-loving friend and former roommate, beth. i used my best cursive icing-writing to emblazon a more birthday appropriate version of some famous smith's lyrics - "heaven knows beth's 22 now." i was pretty proud. and then the cake collapsed and split into three like some biblical wreck. we stuck knives through it to stabilize it and screamed a lot (to stabilize it? not sure what the thought process was there. it just seemed to productive to scream at the time.) yet by the time beth saw it, she was proficiently inebriated and appreciated it all the same. things have a way of working out.

TACOS

instead of funerals, they should just have taco bars. and the face of the deceased can be stamped on the tortillas.

 instead of paper, all memos should be printed on tacos. because i would be way more interested in receiving that.

 instead of crying, all break up blows should be softened with a customary gift of tacos. the healing process would start a lot faster.

 instead of asking me to sign up to give a monthly donation, those grassroots people should give me two tacos. i would be more inclined to actually talk to them.

 instead of reading this post, you guys should go and get me some tacos.

happy birthday mama!

it was my mama's birthday yesterday! and if we were to judge a book by it's cover, this book looks like it just turned 29! and i don't mean that in a 'women-must-lie-about-their-age-for-fear-of-losing-value-past-the-age-of-thirty' way. i mean that in a lady's-face-looks-young-and-her-smile-looks-glorious way. people have this tendency to down play their birthdays as they get older or flat our request that people ignore it. i think it stems from the belief that older people are obsolete in our society. that's a major NO WAY in my book, and if anything, birthdays should become an even BIGGER deal as you get older. you've gained another year of experiences and valuable life knowledge - you are even more of an asset to your loved ones and community!

my mom is wonderful, beautiful (inside & out style!) lady who seriously puts up with a lot of baloney from me. anytime i feel like whining about how hard it is to be in my twenties (i know, i know - feel free to send hate mail to the big ol' baby) she's right there with a comforting or honest word, an encouraging pre-work text, or a thoughtful card in the mail. she has beautiful handwriting, shiny hair, and is the best story-teller i know. she's an amazing hostess and friend and i feel so lucky that she's my mom.

happy birthday mama! hope your day was magnificent.

treasures

i like seeing a lot of good stuff in one place. like a bunch of babies crawling around in a little pig pen. or a stack of pies. or a drawer full of colorful socks.

most recently, it's been a van full of furniture. finally being able to use all the furniture i've been hoarding in my grandpa's basement feels wonderful. and there's something nice about glancing over my shoulder on the drive home to see a van packed to the top with beautiful thrifted finds. this sounds insanely materialistic. but whatever. i'll own up to it. i'm a stuff person. i'm sentimental about things and attach meaning to them. i like things to be aesthetically pleasing or functional or ideally, both. i like the little life i've created and built up over time. everything feels cozy and familiar and very 'me'. you should come visit sometime.

west shore theater

this is my favorite movie theater. it's pretty old with a big marquee on the front. there's only one screen so it's just a giant room inside. tickets are $3.50. they show two different movies a night. sometimes (like last time) they have really cool movies like best exotic marigold hotel. (we were the only people who weren't able to get senior citizen discounts at the snack bar but that movie was SO GOOD. i clapped at the end and hugged my friend jimmy because i was so excited. totally go see it.)

the theater is operated by a bunch of older folks. the snack lady is pretty harsh - she likes to keep things moving. don't dawdle with your soda selection. the screen itself is framed by velvet curtains. it's a whole experience.

in my daydreams recently, i've been thinking about owning an old theater like this. and running old classic movies. and serving ridiculous concoctions at the snack bar. and serving beer. or milkshakes. or both. and having quote-a-longs. and giving people discounts if they dress up. that would be the good life.

the find of a lifetime

 
 let me set the scene: saturday morning. sitting at the island in the kitchen. it's only like eight am which classifies as early for a saturday. i'm scanning the newspaper, looking for things that are easy to read. (not a good thing to do, but let's keep this post honest) things that are totally easy to read and very similar to shopping? classifieds. the original craigslist. yard sale section is my main game. i'm scoping, but not serious. i have plans to hang with my mom at the flea market - my morning is already mapped out and looks pretty sweet. BUT THEN - amid the listings for strollers and used blinds, it caught my eye. GLOBE BAR.

i know what a globe bar is. i have seen two of them. in antique stores. for stupid amounts of money. money that is over half of my weekly paycheck. so i left them, sadly, with a vow to find one, someday, in the future, when i am a millionare.

and then i saw that paper. i didn't want to get my hopes up. maybe it was just a stupid small thing or a towel bar that had a map on it. i don't know what i thought it could be, but i was fairly certain it wasn't going to be the ultra rare globe bar.

 
my mom and i decided to do a drive by just to see if it was worth stopping. and as we rolled by the address listed, there it was. at the bottom of the driveway. in all it's globe bar glory. i immediately hopped out of the car and raced towards it. a middle aged man seemed to be going to towards it but i doubled my step and beat him to the punch. dude said "fifty bucks" and i said "SOLD!". didn't even tr to haggle it was worth every penny. made in spain in the 1970's by prison inmates. freaking beautiful. so in love. 

plant pets

 

everyone should pray for these plants. they are new and beautiful and in funny planters that i really like and i've started thinking of them as pets and not just green things that sit around. so they really can't die without me feeling upset. so pray to your gods that they last all least through the cold months. is that a ridiculous request? how long is the life of a houseplant? i hope it's at least as long as a human life so i can grow old with these silly things. they sit in my living room windows and look so beautiful soaking up the sun, illuminated from behind. the blue one is really starting to thrive and make that sarcastic little pot he's sitting in look even crazier.

do ya'll got houseplants? do ya love 'em?

zambonis and mexican brunch

 

someone once told me that's it's better to work on things you're already good at, then try to get better at things you're bad at. though i disagree overall (if i'm bad at parking, but good at eating pie,  i should try to be better at parking! not perfect my pie-eating!), i'm sure this is mostly applicable to the working world and picking an expertise so you become 'lighting guy!' or 'quicken girl!' and not just a jack-of-all-trades, "i dabble" kind of person. but honestly, i go back and forth on it. it would be awesome to excel in one area. be the best zamboni driver in the county and really know those zambonis inside and out. but there are only so many ice rinks - and then, wouldn't it be cool if you were also a roller derby ref? you tried it once and sucked, but you could work on it.

i don't know where this is going. i know very little about zambonis. i would be a terrible zamboni driver. allow me to distract you with a beautiful picture of some huevos rancheros i inhaled this week. i eat like a king when i'm with mikeyaz.

would you prefer to be REALLY GOOD at one thing? or to diversify your skills and just be proficient in a lot of things? which do you think is more valuable? ideally, i would like to be REALLY GOOD at a wide range of skills. but that's a cheater's answer. answer it for real friends!

taco night with the weigels

 

taco night apparently means two things:
1. always wearing minature plastic sombraros
2. never learning your lesson about overstuffing.

wednesday? really?

 

 how? why? not fair. these weeks are all just flying by and getting ahead of me and there's no end in sight for anything anymore. and by that, i mean i won't be going back to school in the fall. expect things to get either really depressing or really phsychotic around that time. not sure which way i'll swing on the emotional scale, and it's probably best that we're prepared for the worst. hopefully it won't be so bad that this becomes a poetry blog. that would be a serious turn for the worst. let's all just think optimistically about this one.

speaking of optimistic: i painted some polka dot pants. right now i'm saying it's because of the sorching heat, but let's see if i actually wear them in the future. place yer bets. i can't even predict the outcome. will i drink too much wine and dinner and decide to take them on the town? will auditions for clown millionaire come to town?  will i enter into the witness protection program and be placed in children's book? WHO KNOWS.

and look at the time now! now it's friggin thursday and this post is void! i'm not changing it. ya'll can deal.

good looking guys

 

what magic exists in photobooth that makes everyone look like a million bucks? no one is too shiny, everyone's skin is soft and lovely, and everything looks like it's a soft glow. even when i'm rocking a double chin (see last photo for reference), i'm still looking okay. photobooth photos are the best photos in my book.

 luckily, one of the bars we frequent in philly has a photo booth. doubly lucky is the fact that my friends are already naturally good looking.

if i was the type of person to put bumper stickers on my car (and i'm almost that type of person - it just seems like too much of a commitment! it's like a tattoo for your car!), i would rock a bumper sticker that says, "i brake for photobooths."

post race brunch

 

eggs florentine at cafe lift. inhaled in under five minutes because this lady isn't an athlete and a 5k is wayyyyy too much physical exertion.

please note: liz looks like she's straight up out of avatar in that top photo. keiran didn't race but she did eat breakfast in the company of the freaks. 

these colors don't run. (they walk briskly.)

 i signed up a for a 5k.

like an idiot.

 i am not a running person. i am not one of those people who enjoys it as a spiritual experience during which i am one with my body. when i run, it is for survival purposes. i am being chased or my meter is almost out and my car is in danger of being ticketed. that is how running factors into my life.

but there was a deal on groupon for the color me rad 5k. and i mentally kept blocking out those two final characters. the '5' and the 'k'. i just kept thinking about the color. and the out-dated use of the word rad. and before i knew it, i was signed up.

i planned to practice. to train a little each day until i had a wonderful sports montage style breakthrough where i found myself and found my passion and had washboard abs.

this did not happen.

i did nothing to practice. drank two smoothies the night before. that was my training. but on the day of the race, dressed in white with some douche-y sunglasses and the sneakers i hardly ever wear, i was blessed to discover that my running mates were also not so into running. we had to duck under the yellow tape they were using to close off the starting line because we were too slow to begin with. from then on, we alternated between walking briskly and jogging slowly while complaining. beth jogged at a somewhat glacial pace consistently throughout, so the real props go to her. the more important part: we all ended up covered in colored corn starch. one woman threw some in my face when i wasn't expecting it and my teeth were purple for a few kilometers. at the end, everyone gets their own packet of color and they throw it all over the place. it was magical and fun and colorful and impossible to wash off and guaranteed that we would get one million strange looks at brunch.

and in conclusion, i will never run another 5k again.

home and sweets and home sweet home

 home visits have been full of good food and loving family members and silly conversations mixed in with the serious conversations. it is everything i need all the time.

a food post. shocking.

 

this is the aforementioned taco. though it's not really a taco. more of a burrito. i lied. i hope it doesn't affect our friendship.

ahi tuna with mango salsa.  yes please. more of that.

pretty little house

 

i passed this little house in sea isle on my quest for tacos. (for those interested: the inital question did not go so well. they were closed. i got tacos the next day, but that didn't stop me from being majorly bummed.) it's cute and tiny and looks a lot like minnie mouse's house at disney world.

having just recently moved, i know now more than ever that i am a stuff-appreciator to such an extreme that it borders on hoarding.  if it takes five trips in a van to move all your stuff and you're only twenty two? you might have too much stuff. but the idea of living simply (and small-y) does appeal to me. i recently watched the documentary we are the tiny house people which centers around people living in extremely small spaces. it's a well titled documentary. some of the people they talk to live in caves or house boats or re-purposed garages or tool sheds - it's seriously amazing. and the spaces are still insanely gorgeous and stylish and conducive to having intimate gatherings. and they save insane money on rent which i'm sure is spent on records and fine wines and cheeses.

you can watch the entire thing on youtube and i highly recommend it. could you be a tiny house person? would you ever want to be?

BOARDWALK

 

 things that i did with my parents and brother at the boardwalk:
- insisted on squeezing all four of our grown asses into a photobooth. i will have none of these modern your-face-in-a-sketched-heart-or-an-outlaw-frame nonsense. i like the old school machines that give you black and white strips that still smell like eggs. getting us all in/out of the booth was extremely challenging. i might have laid on the floor of the arcade.
- played some skeeball!
- watched my mom challenge my brother to every game of hot shot we passed. helen is a pro - she pretty much always trumps, though drew does put up a good fight. they literally played five games. helen is an addict. she was scraping through her coin purse to scrounge up those last couple quarters. homegirl needs an intervention.
- got ice cream! my mom accidentally pointed to the chocolate sprinkles when i specifically requested the rainbow sprinkles- a completely unacceptable situation.  i yelled 'no you jerk!' and the poor ice cream man looked up, hurt. i quickly clarified, 'no! not 'you jerk' her jerk.' i am twenty two. and a college graduate. and yet, these situations are still occuring.
- got scared of all the obnoxious preteens on the boardwalk and their neon half shirts.


caitlin love boardwalk.

breakfast

 

i eat breakfast e'ry day. like a good kid. the best days are days when breakfast consists of butter cake and blueberries and brothers. all my favorite 'b's. except beyonce. and beer.

in other news: i wonder if the guy who invented shoes ever feels bad. because shoes are a lot like shaving - once you start, you can't really stop. i mean, once horace shoe-inventer-whatsters first put on some fancy foot covers, and told all his buddies to cover their feet, there was no turning back. i hope that dude feels like a jerk.

beach house board games

 

best thing about beach house: it's not yo' house.
other best thing about beach house: WEIRD BOARD GAMES IN THE CLOSET.

this game is called "therapy: the game!"
it is so hard to play. and so very weird. and most of the statistics involved in the questions are from the late '70s or early '80s and are probably not relevant anymore. we struggled with this game. we also thought the rules were too long so we didn't read them. that might have contributed to the aforementioned struggling. some beverages were also consumed - lots of factors in the struggling here.

my favorite question is pictured at the bottom. spring it on them over the pepperoni. i would love to get that on a vanity plate. in a perfect world. with no character limits.

on the subject of comparing myself to animals

 

isn't it weird how human women compare their bodies or have body ideals? i'm fairly certain (though not 100% certain because i was only a communications major. not some fancy zoo or forest major.) that bears don't compare their bodies. bears don't tell other bears that they could stand to lose a few. that they have a little belly pooch working. that their arms are looking a little flabby. bears are just cool with wearing their fur coats and picking up bear cubs by the scruff of their neck and catching salmon. if there is a popularity system within bears, it's probably something like "belinda bear's growl can be hear across the canyon." or "susan bear can tear up a deer carcase within two minutes." (again, i would like to stress how little i know about animals.)

bears (and while i'm riding the presumption training, other animals) value each other (or themselves) based on what their bodies can do as opposed to what their bodies look like.

are ya'll okay with being more like bears? cause i'm down with being more like bears.

in other news: i had a delicious dinner with my family last week (as pictured above). and not once did i think about arm flab. BEAR LIFE.

the extreme sadness of being a lady turtle

 

this is a turtle we met at the beach. she walked all the way from the ocean, up to the dunes, dug a hole with her little back lags and laid some eggs. then she covered it up and walked back to the ocean. she's a diamond back turtle. when here babies hatch, they'll go into the ocean. they'll never meet their mom and she'll never meet them, but the girl babies will go back to the same spot on the same dune and lay their eggs too.

all of these facts were told to us by some eleven year old boy who was also watching the turtle. he has a pet turtle, so i trust his judgement. she moved slowly but purposefully as she went through the process. and it seriously bummed me out that she's never going to meet her babies. even though that's a nature thing and it's supposed to happen that way. it's still a bummer. and it made me glad i'm not a turtle. even though they're amazing.

my love/hate relationship with the beach

 

this post should more accurately be titled, 'my love/hate relationship with the sun'.

 things i love about the beach:
- the boardwalk
- skee ball on the boardwalk
- riding surreys (with or without a fringe on top. preferably with.)
 - eating cider donuts while racing other people on surreys
- drinking on the beach (shh! don't tell the law!)
- photobooths
 - salt water taffy
- wearing weird hats
- salt water hair
- reading books in the sand
- taking naps in the sand

 things i hate about the beach:

 - THE SUN AND THE HEINOUS SUNBURNS IT GIVES MY FRAGILE NEAR-ALBINO SKIN.

dear sweet baby jesus! it never stopppssssss. maybe when i'm 23 i will magically wake up and be able to go in the sun for five minutes sand sunscreen before turning the color of ronald mcdonald's hair.

i understand that we need the sun. helps plants grow blah blah. vitamin d blah blah. perhaps more accurately, i should say i hate the sunscreen application process. it takes a solid twenty minutes for me to grease up and it's exhausting. by the time i have all these stupid grease all rubbed in, i just want to take a nap. and inevitably, i will go to the beach and have to reapply, this time, rubbing it in over top of the sand that's clinging to my body.

and somehow, in some magic way, i still end up getting sunburnt.

 i hope i am reincarnated as a tan person. or that technology makes it possible for me to not loathe the sun.