Wednesday, March 19, 2014


My friend is dog-sitting, and I am in love. You guys. Look at her. She is perfect, pretty much. Except when she gets into the trash and pisses in the living room.  

Winter, redux

I have no idea how I did this, but it is so cheesy, I am keeping it

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

"‘Me, I’ve seen forty-five years, and I’ve only figured out one thing. That’s this: if a person would just make the effort, there’s something to be learned from everything. From even the most ordinary, commonplace things, there’s always something you can learn. I read somewhere that they say there’s even different philosophies in razors. Fact is, if it weren’t for that, nobody’d survive.’ The Rat nodded, then finished off the last inch of beer in his glass. The record ended, the jukebox clicked off, and the premises fell quiet again."

Pinball1973 / Haruki Murakami.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Every time someone talks about the weather, I roll my eyes and then keep talking about the weather. Because there are so many people with whom it is only safe to talk about the weather.

Monday, December 30, 2013


"Anna Wetherell's first glimpse of New Zealand was of the rocky heads of the Otago peninsula: mottled cliffs that dropped sharply into the white foam of the water, and above them, a rumpled cloak of grasses, raked by the wind. It was just past dawn. A pale fog was rising from the ocean, obscuring the far end of the harbor, where the hills became blue, and then purple, as the inlet narrowed, and closed to a point."

The Luminaries, Eleanor Catton, 627

Two weeks at home was a nice reminder of what I love but also why I left.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

It is -17'C! My radiator chuckles at night, keeping me company. I am currently wearing approximately 34 000 layers of clothing. 


I have packed more dresses in my suitcase than days in New Zealand. They are predominantly floral.

My neighbor plays The Doors every night, really loudly. I have never met my neighbor but sometimes I hope he is a philosophy professor and wears brogues and drinks nips of whiskey. (Philosophy professors do not live in my apartment building). It would also be nice if she was a old granny with purple dyed hair that loves rock and roll. 

I love this song today. Also, did you know in the States, if you say "motel," it has decidedly different connotations than in New Zealand?

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Savoring the last of the holiday weekend. I love Thanksgiving. My friend from Palestine stayed two nights, I made new friends from around the world and danced to terrible music. I watched football (both types). I drank whiskey, and smoked shisha and now I am listening to this song on repeat, making soup, and thinking of how in two weeks I will be home for Christmas. I am terrified to go home after so long. Don't poke fun of my strange hybrid accent, y'all.

I became truly American, this was my black Friday purchase. I'm flying into Summer, hence summer dresses on sale.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

A selection

It's the desolate cold that reaches far into you. And I'm not sure if I will think this, now, is cold, in three months when I've had it for so long. But it feels so cold. Last night, walking home from a day spent in a daze, I saw the icicles start to spread across the pavement. Aren't they incredible? I crouched and watched them for a while, I swear they grew. 

This weekend I drank my first Bloody Mary (I'm still not sure), tried to deal with jealousy (I'm not good at that), and realized how much a hug can mean when you've been silently wanting it (it's so good it hurts). 

Here, a marvelously cheesy ballad for a well-lived weekend:

Saturday, November 16, 2013

It's not that you can't cook, it's that you're lazy, he said recently. There is quite a lot of truth to this blunt statement.

I made Turkish lentil soup, that a lady described to me in Istanbul. I added a lot of harissa to make it more rachel-ish. 

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

We're all so far away

I wish every couple of months I could gather all my friends that are scattered across the world and we could just meet in a little cabin in the woods. There'd be whiskey, shisha, bike rides, hikes and endless youtube playlists. There would be a swimming hole with a rope swing, and lots of magnificent little forest birds. We'd grill lamb chops and eggplant and eat them with pita and olives. 

This is a lovely song. They (La Luz) opened for Of Montreal recently. Getchyer fill of some glorious smooth surf pop.