A fine article, filled with the cleverness, humor, and truth that most writers only hope to capture when seeking to purport something witty. I read the entire thing, then read it again. Brains — you’ve got some pretty stellar brains.

brainsnorts inc.

to be “freshly pressed” (FP) is cool.  it means that someone, somewhere, for some reason, thinks that what you wrote is relevant, witty, visually outstanding, poignant, provocative, or any combination, but not limited to, those nice words.  it means your thoughts or product will be posted to be seen by the entire wordpress community, or at least those who know about it.  i was probably using wordpress for close to half a year before i knew FP existed.  as cool as it is, and as cool as i may or may not be, i will never be FP, unless FP stands for “f#cking pr!ck.”

1. i am not female.  my research has shown that 94.88% of all FP are female.  further, 67% of all female FP are hot.  the remaining 33% that aren’t hot, are really hot. 

2. i’m not big with photography.  it seems 70% of all FP have a landscape or artsy/city theme with pictures…

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Tutorial Tuesday: Homemade Graham Crackers!

Happy Tuesday, Everybody!

I hope your Monday was kind to you. I’m currently languishing in bed, my rump squashed up against a pillow, wishing I hadn’t pushed it so hard at the gym yesterday. Listening to me rotate every so often, you’d think I was walking on hot coals. “Ooo. Ah. Oo-oo. Ahhhh.” What is it that leads a person to believe they have suddenly transformed into a superhero upon entering the gym? Adrenaline? Endorphins? Body-hugging spandex? In the moment, I was a stud. In hindsight, I was an idiot. Let’s just say I’ll be breaking for the bathroom on an “as imperatively needed” basis today.

Anywho . . .

I’ve found something decadently yummy to share with you today. I’m calling it a snackert: half snack, half dessert. You heard it here first, folks. Prepare for imminent takeover. Next time you’re watching Martha or Rachel whip up something fantastic, and they look over beaming into the camera and say, “Doesn’t this snackert look amazing, everyone?!” remember that it’s incipience was born at This Little Light. 🙂

This tutorial — originally debuted and found at smittenkitchen.com <— Amazing recipes! — is dedicated to my dear friend Kristin, who specially requested that I feature another food tutorial.

Marvel and Wonder

The other day, while driving to the gym, I noticed something ahead of me, a ways off in the distance. It was only a peek of something, white, and perhaps round in shape, but mostly surmounted by a jagged line of glorious purple mountains. I was mostly focused on those mountains. It had been one of those typical Orange County days; you know, warm, clear, and perfect — the kind that makes everyone else not living in Southern California weep with covetous despondency. Yeah, we pay for it, though.

It was twilight about now and the sky was preparing for bed, trading its pretty blue dress for slate pajamas. While minding the other vehicles, I continued to flick my gaze toward that white something, but my eyes wouldn’t have it. It was simply too far and too small. Likely a water-tank, I told myself, and left it at that. A few minutes later I approached a bend in the freeway, not even a 20 degree shift, and there it was: not a water-tank.

I couldn’t help myself, I actually cried out “MOON!!” Then my eyes filled with tears.

And here’s why.

Tear tanks

Many of you will have heard of a love tank, I would think. If you haven’t, in short, the idea is that you have a metaphorical tank in which family and friends pour into by bringing love, support, goodness into your life. I wonder, though, will you have you ever heard of a tear tank? I only ask because this weekend I was compelled to think of mine, and how very unendurably full it had become. Maximum occupancy full. Don’t think I could have fit one more itty bitty tear in there.

I should have bought it.

I should have bought it.

This week has amounted many challenges; battles of all degrees and natures sprang up like mole hills, tripping me every few steps so that I never really made it past the gunshot smoke. In terms of progress, I’m still halfway through Monday, keeled over with my hands clasped to my knees, panting. Tuesday did not wait for me, either, and Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday found no just cause to temporize on my behalf.