Those macarons are amazing!

So...here’s the thing about iron infusions.

In ‘Grief is weird, it’s been a month’:

This is a serious issue with Trader Joes. My dog, the neurotic thing he is, will ONLY eat Trader Joes treats. Will not possibly ever eat any other treats. One time they ran out and I like practically accosted one of the employees going ‘YOU CANNOT STOP MAKING THESE MY DOG WILL DIE’. I’m very fearful one day they will…

It’s so so so so good. SO GOOD.

I loved the pumpkin! I thought it was going to be bad bad bad, but it tasted really good!

Until very recently, women’s clothing didn’t have pockets. Or had ‘pockets’ that were small or sewn shut or useless.

It’s a studio, so they just have a reasonably large bathroom that you can change in. I’m saying fuck all with my hair and leaving it in its braid and I’ll do my make up in the car.

I am the same. I have to have someone keeping me accountable for my exercise or it doesn’t happen. So I’m not good at a regular gym.

I just spat a piece of string cheese practically across the room as I nonchalantly read your comment. fuuuck.

I do hot yoga like a sadist, so I’ve got to change out of my yoga clothes. Regular yoga? Pfft, I’d just throw a wrap sweater over and rock out.

I got them at my college’s bookstore the last time I was being a good alum on campus.

I’m going out with a friend after yoga this evening and won’t have time to go home between and I’m like ‘oh god, I have to bring clothing and try to look presentable after? what? ahhhhhhh’

This is true. I pretty much live in one of two pairs of sweat pants (THEY HAVE POCKETS AND IT’S AMAZING) because my work pants are the most uncomfortable thing designed by the devil and those sweatpants go on within .5 seconds of coming home. I wear them so much that I’m pretty sure my neighbors believe I only own two…

It’s crazy how high housing prices are and how they just seem to not stop going up.

It’s already funny. Like HOW did I manage to get it ALL of these places, but not my glasses, the dog or the carpet? Magic.  

I spent Valentine’s Day watching the Olympics and playing with my doggy.

Do you think these puppies have the same ails and travails as us mortal, normal dog owners? Like this morning, I realized after picking up the poop from the Buster Dog that the poop had gone rogue. On the top of the back. On his butt fur. On my hand.

Federally owned piece of historically important land.

She was on one of my tours at work at she talked and giggled through the whole damn thing.