WAYWT | Cherry blossom valentine

I was complaining about our distinct lack of spring some time ago. Repeatedly. Well, we finally got our spring blooms. All around campus the cherry trees are in full bloom; the dandelions have been out for a few weeks (to the bunnies' pleasure. I always bring them a handful when I'm sure there haven't been any pesticides on them); and the sky is finally blue with puffy little clouds. It's maddeningly beautiful - especially since cherry blossoms and dandelions are my favourite flowers. It's about this time that I desperately being to wish I had a yard - or at least a balcony - where I could catch some sun and read a book.

Yesterday, I went down to campus to hang out on the benches in the largest grassy area. There were trees, and grass, and dandelions and I got attacked by bugs flying down my boobs and twigs throwing themselves at my knees. It was wonderful.

I also decided to wear my new dress. This is the second dress I've made that is wearable! I've come to think of it as "my valentine dress," probably because it's red. I'm so fucking creative.

It's not you, blog, it's me

My dearest blog,

I know I've been neglecting you lately, and I'm sorry. There haven't been any late nights with soda and cookies and moral outrage. There haven't been any "I'm almost done!"s while T waits impatiently for us to eat supper. I haven't obsessively polished and coded and tweaked your beautiful face for some time. I haven't excitedly jotted down interesting topics or played with paragraph wording in my head.

I don't know what the problem is. I have things to say, but I don't have the words to say it. I could easily resort to listing "the things I did today" - T graduated, I made a dress, I saw his aunts stoned and drunk, I gave the rabbits a giant box... on and on - but it feels too hollow to write about. I've been sort of floating about, aimlessly. Blogging is a grounding activity for me, and it's hard to get in the right mindset when I'm floating upside-down above the clouds.


I will make a conscious effort to work on our relationship, blog. If you're willing to be patient and forgive me for my neglect, I think we can get back what we once had. Are you with me?

I'm glad to hear it.

xoxoxox <3 <3 <3

And now for something completely different


The title says it all folks.
Here I am, all dressed up just waiting for summer. Do you know how long it's been drizzling? I'm about ready to hunt down Mother Nature and give her a kick in the nads. Look, I have my little hat and a long, comfy dress all ready for summer... and I have to wear a sweater and jacket over it. Totally ruins the effect.

I love how using the camera flash makes me look like I have an IRL dropshadow. Way to made me look photoshopped in my own home, camera.

On a related note, to stave off the boredom and the all-encompassing unproductive feeling, I made a dress. It is the first dress I've made that has a chance at being suitable for daily wear (and the associated tear).

It's made out of a double-layer of quilting cotton, because that's the only fucking interesting fabric my goddamn fabric store will carry. Seriously, everything else is ugly, unpleasant feeling, or a solid fucking colour.

I messed up the bodice a bit. As it turns out, making clothing that fits boobs is hard. But it's not so bad as to be unwearable, and I've certainly seen clothing in stores that fits just as awkwardly. So, I'm proud of the fact that I took a square of cheap, thin fabrics and then cut, pinned and stitched it into something that would cover and mostly flatter my ladybits.

Gogo awkward boob gathers!

I've also been pleased with how my hair is behaving recently. I can wash it and let it air dry and it turns out with these subtle loose curls. Absolutely zero effort. Thank you, hair.

I suppose this is it finally forgiving me for straightening it every day in high school. I'm really, really sorry about all that. Straight hair was popular, you know? The slightest bit of poof made me feel like I was stalking out of the eighties. I also dried it every day, so I suppose that didn't help the poofiness. It's all okay now; I promise never to heat damage you (much) again. xoxox.

Dr. Pepper and baby pictures

"No offence, my love, but you really weren't a bright kid," he says after I tell my friends about how I refused to drink Dr. Pepper as a child because I thought it would be... well... pepper-y.

In all seriousness, someone should tell the Dr. pepper people what's up. I wasn't the only person in that room who at one time absolutely refused to drink pop named "Dr. Pepper" that was "made with 23 flavours." That's way too may flavours, and I would have sworn that one of those flavours was pepper. It's cute when it's magical jelly beans; not so much when it's a beverage.


He's said that a few times before, such as when I recounted the epic battles I used to have with my dog over her dog food, how as a child I developed a craving for soap, and how I once purposefully stepped on a rake in the name of science.

I was much older than I should have been. I was playing in the front yard while my step father did yard work, idly chatting with the neighbourlady. There was a rake laying on the ground. I pondered its rake-y form for a while, donning a scholarly air. After some time of applying what little physics and logic I knew, I evidently concluded that the whole cartoon imagery of stepping on a rake and having it fling up and hit your face was undeniably false. To test my conclusion I tested the rake.

I had a bruised face for a week and a bruised ego for a year.

OM NOM NOM nom nom nom

Looking back, I have to agree. As a child I was a loner, introspective, talkative, curious, and exceedingly dense. I mean, I know children are all kinds of dumb, but it seems that my own level of childhood stupidity surpassed the average. I did the usual dumb kid things - hurt myself climbing and falling and performing poorly at arithmetic. But I also had a gleam of ingenious stupidity, leading to beautifully subtle conclusions such as "The water is blue because it reflects the sky, and the sky is blue because it reflects the water; therefore God."

You rock that drawer, your drawer rocker you.

Once the seeds are planted, it appears there's nothing that can be done to save you. Those hearty seeds of stupidity have flourished in the fertile soil of my day-dreamy mind, and occasionally the fruits bear themselves gloriously. My own stupidity is stunning at times, but that is a story for another day. For many other days, in fact.

Blog Feature | Two Matthews(ers)

Welcome, welcome, gather around. Bear witness to my first ever Blog Feature. I'm warning you in advance, I don't know that I'll ever make these a regular thing, but hey, one is exciting enough right?

Today I'm going to sing high praises about lovely little blog that you've probably seen lurking at the bottom of my Blogroll (providing you aren't a typical visitor who sees the Bloglist widget and temporarily shuts off the visual portion of your brain):

First I must express my shame that I never got the pun in the name until I read the very first post. In my defence, I generally read the title of this blog as something similar to "Matthews-ers-ers-is" which reduced my chances at getting the wordplay to "hopeless." Alright. Moving on:

The Author

...is April, who is a 24-year-old American architect who lived in Sweden for part of her blogging career.. (We'll forgive the "American" part because it's not something she can help.) You can tell she's an architect by the header image and the fact that immediately after moving into her temporary quarters in Sweden she drew a sketch of the apartment layout. She also has a(n adorably curly-headed) husband, Jason, who is a physicist.

I just heard the words "cutting their penises off and looking at them under a microscope" from T's computer speakers. Sorry April. We're not off to a good start. I'll try to recover but now my attention is divided.

They're smart cookies. One of the things that attracted me to this blog is that you get that vibe of intelligence. You know how sometimes when you look into someone's eyes there's a startling amount of wit staring back at you? And how you'll look at other people and there's no one home? I can read blogs like that. It's a combination of the layout, the content and the writing style. April provides a breath of fresh, quirky and beautiful intelligence in an Internet full of pseudo-intellectual exhalations and durpy attempts at stand-up-style comedy.
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"Whenever you find that you are on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect."