Lucky for us, all that has changed now, with the Michelangelo Gravity Stand. Sure, the bikes are still an unavoidable key part of our decor, but at least we can reach the books now! This rack is so fantastic for us as apartment dwellers. It requires no drilling into walls and holds the bikes as close to the wall as a couple cruisers can get. LOVE! Highly recommend.

Dress guards can be very expensive and/or can require drilling one's fenders to accomodate the guard. Lucky for me/us, there is a brilliant etsy shop poised to meet all of our skirt guard needs. Frill Ride offers a variety of simple, fabric dress guards for any ready bike. From bridal rides to basic sport guards, there is probably a dress guard to fit your style and needs, though they skew feminine (in case you couldn't guess as much from the name).

I chose a black fishnet/mesh guard that would blend into my black bicycle, but has a reflective pink bow on the back for fashion and safety purposes. I simply love it. The guard was easy to install, and seems likely to last for years to come. 

Thanks for holding down the replacement cards, Ham. You are ridiculous. 

So I spent hours perusing cooking blogs and compiling recipes I wanted to try. Some of those hours may have been in my cubicle at work in San Jose, but I'm not admitting anything. There were quite a few blogs that struck me, and I printed the recipes that really grabbed me and put them in a big "To Try" binder, along with recipes cut from magazines and carefully glued to paper to fit the binder. A few months later we were settled into our apartment in San Diego and I was ready to dive into cooking.

While there were a few misses, there were quite a few hits, and I started gaining confidence in my cooking abilities. Or at least my ability to follow a recipe and achieve the desired result. I noticed that the recipes from Deb Perelman's Smitten Kitchen blog not only turned out well, but they quickly became staples in our cooking rotation. I kept up with her blog even as my obsession with cooking blogs in general began to dwindle. When I found out she would be releasing a cookbook I was thrilled. I pre-ordered it as soon as I could, even though it wouldn't be released for SO LONG. 6 whole months! 

But the wait is over. Today the beautiful FedEx man delivered a cardboard package to me, and inside was the Smitten Kitchen Cookbook. EEEEEEEEE! I am so excited! I cannot wait to start cooking from it! Tonight we had to finish up some leftovers (this roast chicken with dijon sauce recipe, actually), but I've been flipping through it and it looks fantastic. After reading the introduction and about half of the breakfast recipe, I decided to snap a picture of the book in my poorly-lit kitchen (hence the vignette effect for shadow obscuring) and share my excitement with the Internet!

Please pardon the bad picture. But yay! Don't be afraid to accept a dinner invitation from us this winter--I've got help in the kitchen.

Matt leaves the apartment to write at a coffee shop every weekday. Ham doesn't climb the door every time Matt leaves, but he does it pretty often. Tonight, when Matt ran across the street to the store, for example. Fortunately our security door is sturdy and can stand up to the abuse. Not so much our sliding screen doors on the other side of the room. Hrmph. 

I can't effectively capture the way he cries when we leave in image form, but trust me, it's annoying heartbreaking. 

"Hey, thanks for the 83rd bed."

A few weeks ago we had friends over to play our current favorite board game, Small World. Our tiny vintage dinette table is too small for more than 2 friends at a time, so we splurged on a super chic black vinyl card table. We're first class all the way. Nothing but the best for our tiny hovel castle. Once we'd set it up and put the game down, Hamilton settled right in, assuming that we had thoughtfully procured another flat surface for him to lounge on. 

"You're still here?"

Make yourself at home, Ham! Glad we could accomodate you and your need to put your body on every surface. Thanks for leaving downy kitty fur behind too. Classy move. 

Of course the closed game box was only mildly interesting. While Hamilton was annoyed that we banished him from the table, he perked right up when put the box lid aside...

As the orchards were bulldozed and turned into strip malls, it became fashionable to line new shopping centers with palm trees. I thought it looked stupid, like San Jose was trying to be something that it definitely wasn't--namely, Southern California. 

Fastforward to 2012, and I am a full-time Southern California resident. At first I was sort of oblivious to the palms. I tolerated/ignored them. But I recently discovered that I'm a palm tree convert. At least in this context. When I look out across the city and see the spiky silhouettes against the sky, I feel a little stab of joy. When a friend posts a picture of palms and power lines it feels like we're all part of a tribe. 

 It's no secret that I love my neighborhood. And the power lines, sunshine, hills, and feathery palm trees are part of the landscape. So there you go. Urban palm trees in San Diego are on my metaphorical "awesome stuff" list. 

(Sunday Snippets via tinniegirl)

I use the popular Expedit quad as the prescribed landing strip to corral bags, mail, keys, and whatnot in an attempt to impose some order on our livingroom. Sometimes it's pristine. Other times there is a buildup of 5 months' worth of magazines and to-file and to-shred mail. Right now we're in one of the latter cycles. But even when the mail is in disarray I'm pretty good about putting my bags in the designated cube. 

Unfortunately, that very cube is apparently an extremely comfortable, highly desirable place for kitties to curl up and snooze. 

"Don't worry, I'm totally comfy."

Yep. Ham crawled in and pushed the bags out. Then he took a nap. We have an old "Keep Out" welcome mat stuck behind the shelves. If Hamilton could read, maybe he'd realize that applies very much to him on the shelf as well. But honestly, it isn't as if he'd care. He is a jerk and I love him a million.