Sorry not sorry

It's my birthday...I can have a solo CalTrain happy hour if I want to. 

(in my fave VIP seat, might I add?)

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Ummm...

we went to our fave lil produce stand today to pick up ingredients for my sudden guacamole craving...and while I was selecting the perfect tomato (lycopene, people.  getchu some.), Rob went and found this guy.  In the store. 

Dr Doolittle sprung into action, shooing the little critter into a produce bag, which he then showed off to store employees (reaction: "hey, we've been looking for him!") and a wide-eyed and apprehensive little boy outside before freeing him at a nearby park.  



Oh yeah, and the guac was good too.

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Picture of health.

I blame my boss for making me walk across the street to Walgreens to buy a half-pound of sugar, cuz he is holding my healthy banana hostage in the back office while he is on a conference call.

So there's that.

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Oh, hello Spring.

:D

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yellow

In my recent cleaning binge, I donated nine pairs of shoes I don't love anymore.  New policy: if I don't lovelovelovelovelove a particular item, its not welcome in our teeny tiny home.

So its perfectly justifiable that, in a particularly successful trip to DSW, I snatch up the same Steve Madden pumps that I bought and returned a few months back.   The very same pair.  Seriously.  I recognized a little sludge/color variation that I distinctly recall from my former pair.  This time, they were on sale.  Add a $10 off coupon from the shoe gods and I'm a happy sunshine-y camper today! 

I believe in second chances...and I'm glad Steve does, too.

Reason #74 why I heart the Bay Area

a deconstructed samosa and a chicken tikka masala burrito, courtesy of the Curry Up Now food truck parked on El Camino Real this evening...lurve.

packrat.

The bevy of random foods Rob has in his backpack at any given time ... and yes, a few of them ARE from Mexico. And he has been back in the US for two full months...

Could I possibly love her more?!

 Hyperbole and a Half: The Four Levels of Social Entrapment 

If I knew I could write and/or draw like this girl, I would quit my damn job and write every (other, let's be honest...) day.  I'd charge admission to read my stuff.  Seriously.  I'd grace humanity with my words and drawings.  I would practically be the Martha Stewart of funny (minus that whole incarceration thing).  I'd teach people how to 'smeyes' via my cartoons.

Buuuuuuut I lack a certain set of skills, and therefore will resort to my little one-pic posts and directing my four readers to more stimulating material.  Whatever.  Beggars can't be choosers.

I don't like it.

But wait, he's classy too!

Best wedding surprise ever? Methinks yes.

That's how we roll.

'nuff said.

heart.

Dear Kinders,

We've had a good thing goin' for some time now, since your tasty sauces wooed me way back in high school.  Ditching out at lunch to visit you was a fave pastime, and you charmed my friends and fam along the way. I've always felt that our relationship was a bit lopsided, as though I had little to offer but a measly $9 for a sent-from-above-meat-sandwich.  But this, my dear, takes the cake.

Did you just profess your love for ME, Kinders?!

I will always love the hell outta you.

Yours truly,

Nic

Is this thing on...?!

Did I just find a way to blog from my fancy shmancy cellphone? Testing, testing.