condensation

muted moody winter love, by brittanie pendleton. her photos makes me want to 1) lounge around in delicate lingerie 2) add austin to the lengthy list of stops on our road trip, so i can stalk her, befriend her, and buy her prints. hmm.

i do what i want

Birthday Cake Phenomenon: in which you covertly eat off of the sides before the guests have a chance to arrive, before the candles are lit. IT'S MY PARTY AND (WHATEVA!), I DO WHAT I WAHNT. Seriously though, how delarcious does that cake look?! Mum's famous homemade carrot cake; chef pictured, not-so-covertly indulging pre-guest arrival, too.

dimensions

I've had to work every day since I last posted. Gross. Anyway, a rare 2 day breathing space! For Christmas! Merry Christmas everyone! Merry KIRAMAS, too. 

That's right, tomorrow is my 25th birthday. I don't know if I feel apathetic about Christmas this year (blaspheme of blasphemes) because I'm not thrilled about turning 25 (seems like rounding the last of the exciting birthday corners), or because I've been working nonstop, or because I'm in this weird transitional space or what, but the jolly tidings I usually feel seem to be hidden somewhere around here. Hopefully I'll find them under a huge slice of frosting-laden cake on my birthday.

Things have reached epic proportions in my trans-national flirtation. Must be the holiday frenzy. I was invited to escape Chicago's horrific blizzardy freezing mess by moving in with him. "We've got a beach house and a boat!" he drawled.

"Who's WE?" I pointed.

"Well, me and mah dad."

Ah, well, no judgment, I'm currently living with my mother, too.

What else?

On Sunday, I babysat for a pair of awesome 11-year old twins. "We" made a gingerbread house. Which meant that the gingerbread kit came with confusing instructions, and I ended up with flour all over my face, white paste goo everywhere, and a broken home (oh, the metaphors!). 

"Kiraaaaaaa!" they squealed. "Why won't the house work??!" A rare glimpse into the future of motherhood, it did not seem inviting. Clearly I'm unprepared. How the hell does anyone know how to do any of this stuff? I burned the gingerbread men and the house refused to stick to itself. 

"I'm not good at this kind of thing!" I declared. "I'm not very crafty."

"But...you look artsy!" the wee girl pointed out.

"Right, but not this kind of artsy...not..." I trailed off.

"You mean you're not three-dimensionally artistic." 

"Yes, that's right. I best operate in 2-dimensions."

Unfortunately for my loved ones, it's present-wrapping time.

double-socking it

no, that's no sexual intercourse euphemism. chicago winter weather is out of control. i don't remember it being this cold. after the 3 minute walk to the logan square train stop, i look as though i've just finished watching dancer in the dark. fie, overactive tear ducts!! fie!!

i have a completely inappropriate relationship with a dashing (i imagine) young fellow in virginia with a sexy drawl. my job requires that i call him a few times a day with questions, and today as i answered the phone "___, this is Kira," I was met with "Just the girl i was looking for," and in a later call, was asked out to dinner. "I've never been to Chicago," he says. "And I've never been to Virginia!" I doltishly twittered. Which is not even true, I realized later. I could feel the silent mocking of the web developer who sits next to me. 

Goat cheese kisses and jasmine tea were had later, on a real date with a live human boy and everything. Also last nite I went to a party where they served CAKE POPS (see above). Cake, with frosting, on LOLLIPOP STICKS, PEOPLE. It was very there's something about mary "there needs to be more dessert on sticks," minus the cum hair.

This post is probably way oversharing but I am too tired to know the difference. I don't have a day off until Christmas Eve. fatigue! fie! 

act i & ii

ii things that made my day:

making & eating the shit out of these pumpkin-walnut-heath-white chocolate chip orgasmic explosion cookies:

this photo of my adorable, way-too-far-away nieces in portland:

now i am going to lie in bed & read this until i pass out, as 3 hours of vodka-laden sleep does not a good sunday nite christmas party mood make. 

still, though, busting the sequins out of the closet in a matter of hours.

T.B., or not T.B.

I'm not exactly sure how I've gone 24 years without having seen Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Sex (but were too afraid to ask), but it is to be sure a tragedy on the grandest scale. 

Woody Allen as a failing court jester trying to worm his way into the queen's chastity belt? EFFING BRILLIANT.

Genius Gene Wilder, falling in love with a sheep, exploiting his masterful control of physical and emotional expression to hilarious comedic effect "Sir, it is not NORMAL TO HAVE MATURE LOVE FOR SOMETHING WITH FOUR LEGS!" Ah god. seriously. genius. go see, go see, go see. luckily i bought it for eight dolla at reckless records, so i can watch it like 17 more times this week.
*Bonus: Fred the Baker, of 'time to make the donuts' Dunkin' Donuts fame, plays a cross-dressing cameo. Seriously, what kind of ridiculous career did that dude have?? amazing. (ah want that.)

island hidden in the sound

adorbs mum and our adorbs sophie, on the beautiful precipice of lake michigan's pseudo-frozen, botulism-ridden waters.

just take your time / i take my time

Things I am currently excited about:

The week-long French film festival @ facets.

Eating peppermint ice cream for dinner (check).

The perfume i created today for a beautiful freckled girl named Mallory (white tea, pomegranate, french vanilla).

Being told I need to spend the next few months "investigating and indulging in my Venusian aspect" by an astrocartographer.

This midnite show at the music box:

Things I have recently enjoyed looking at:

by Elena Kulikova

Things I will be doing with my freezing cold Friday (-3 degrees!):

a date under an electric blanket, in front of a joyful panoply of dvd's (woody allen & miranda july & ingmar bergman, oh my).