I sat in the center of the kitchen floor.
I scrubbed ceramic tiles that would never be clean with a sour kitchen sponge.
I cried.
The thought of cleaning the front of a dishwasher that I never use, every Thursday, for the rest of my life, was the most depressing and comforting thought I had ever had.
my house smells like this bread at this moment and *for me* i’ve perfected this recipe with a cup of wheat bran and some flaxseed meal, for good measure. holy smokes though, it’s delish, as is.
and also, i’m addicted to food blogs. including this one!
let’s talk about high maintenance girlfriends…
i gotta go home.
—Ernest Hemingway (via sleepingtigers)
(via buzzing-justlike-neon)
Saturday.
good find, black.
“let’s go have a drink and smoke a cigarette.
barnes & noble has a whole selection of criterion collection dvd’s.
including this little diddy that i picked up this afternoon.
new pomplamoose song.
monster mask.
these are the cutest people on earth.
my monday was extra nice thanks to fried pickles and a handsome fella.
