friday-you’re my all-time favorite-to you m’loves!

my heart + head are taking a victory lap around the happy track as i reflect on my week well-spent.

i’ve earned each one of my evening bubble baths, and i have the scrapes, bruises and aching knee as proof.

as much as i complain about being tired, sore and wanting more days off, i can’t put a price tag on that feeling of satisfaction, at the end of the day, when it’s too exhausting to even emotionally eat, of having worked my face off.

here are a few other things putting effervescent, linden-scented, bubbles in my life:

ok please tell me you all have sisyphus?

no, not the venereal disease that killed al capone and paul gaugin.

sisyphus!

the new album from Sufjan Stevens, Son Lux, Serengeti?

um…..

mind blown–

—thundered like that popcorn bag you forget to take out of the microwave and that has now exploded hot, burnt, morsels of popped fever throughout the house.

this will be my spring/summer playlist.

let’s JAM!

{do you know how happy it makes me that i spelled the word venereal wrong 3 times?}

how do you like my new cup?

villa pilates and yoga {my wednesday night, pilates party joint} just got the best, new coffee mugs in their shop.

they have three different versions….you better snap one up, asap, before they’re all gone.

i’ve had a great round of random, unplanned {one planned} encounters with friends this week.

don’t you love those spontaneous pockets of catch-up time in the grocery aisle or coffee line? all week-long, i was gifted with meaningful, resonant, albeit too short, brushes with love and friendship.

typically when i run into friends i’m sporting my most-haggard, is-she-homeless-outfit:

“no sir, i don’t need your extra change, but thank you for the offer, i WILL eat the rest of your burrito though.”

fortunately all week-long i’ve been wearing my new favorite sweatshirt to help dispel any current vagabond rumors.

again, from villa pilates and yoga {my paycheck is pretty much a wash for what i end up buying each week; carly sources the BEST stuff in town.}

this california landscape sweatshirt fulfills every jennifer beals/flashdance fantasy i’ve ever had. it has not left my back since i took it off the hanger.

“villa” has a few left {call carly,}  and there’s a cool new mexico landscape on 35 mm’s website.

it’s made from the softest material, and hangs kind of low in the back; it’s a great sweatshirt for chilly, coastal california, summer nights.

 the other day i was asked what my “look” typically is…

 “a snarl, of course!“

i snapped back, bad-temperedly.

having to have the question re-explained to me {twice,} i, now, have a different answer.

my look? my style?

got it.

i wish i could say i’m of the ladylike, preppy-ilk: she whom lunches with a cavalier king charles spaniel in her kelly green, kate spade; knees perfectly knocked together, crossed at the ankles in satin-ribbon adorned ballet flats, sipping chamomile tea while waxing poetic over the latest jodi pocult novel, and philanthroping hard for her junior league’s upcoming charity ball, but that fucking shit isn’t me.

i so admire this style and have tried to emulate it most of my life: think popped collar, manicure to match, grandmother’s pearls, and a hem-length just as afraid of heights as i am…

but alas my nails haven’t been painted since 2013, granny wore kimonos, and even my conversational french {which is nil} is so brimful of profanity; one sentence out of my filthy, four-letter peppered mouth, and my membership into club preppy was axed.

lately my style is best described as a twelve-year old, pre-pubescent boy with a penchant for blow dry bars and heavy duty eye cream.

case in point: check out my new vans!

they’re black and white checker-board slip-on’s and they’re the raddest things to ever happen to my feet; second to a massage i had in shanghai, ten years ago, but that post is password protected.

and best of all priscilla think my vans are low-class, so it’s highly unlikely she’ll destroy them.

nevertheless she will be with me at the skate park this afternoon.

so i may prefer vans over valentino, but i’m still a sucker for the beauty parlor.

yesterday i had a fun visit with my original girl crush, misha nesselrod.

misha, known as the eyebrow-whisperer, has also become the eyelash fairy.

i’ve had eyelash extensions before.

no one else knew i had them, they just assumed i was a coffee-addicted, vans-wearing, twelve-year old boy, looking for the nearest drag-queen competition. and after one too many inquests into my tucking talent i nixed going to the eyelash extension bar.

that is until misha convinced me to let her do “express” lashes on me…promising me i wouldn’t look like ru-paul.

express lashes from misha are a 30 minute, SUPER-natural looking, painless, affordable option for those of you, like me, who have been burned before by the reach out and touch the car in front of you, lashes.

you can see in my photo how natural looking they really are.

while i was there i also got a great trim from laurie bernard. this was my first haircut at holiday salon, and i can see what all the buzz is about.

and lastly:

VEEP is back this sunday!

now, DUH, of course, like all of you, i’ll be watching game of thrones with bated brain and breath, but VEEP is just so friggin smart and hilarious i’m just as excited about its return.

it’s the perfect antidote to all the dark, grimy, sinister shows i tend to love and have been bingeing on of late.

the no they did not!??!! factor on veep is so high i was alarmed when a former white house press secretary from the new republic wrote that VEEP is “more accurate than you realize.“

god help us.

can we please just get someone to have the OPPOSITE opinion about house of cards?

{SPOILER ALERT}

every time i see joe biden on tv now, i get a gag-inducing image of him, jill, and mr. secret service man, three-some’ing on the kitchen counter…i need this erased from my brain PLEASE!!

so there you have it: my favorites for my favorites.

did i miss anything?

see you on the other side of sunday m’loves.