1) Chocolate bundt cake
So you know how I was complaining that I gained a bunch of weight this weekend and needed to lose it, stat? Well I did and I do, so this week was supposed to be Diet and Exercise Lockdown for me. Um, small problem: my brother's seventeenth birthday was this weekend (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BUD!) and my mother made him a cake. My mother makes fucking amazing cake. My mother made a whole cake and for some reason my family decided to pick at it like little birds so there is still a ton left over. That was Saturday, this is Wednesday. Guess who has been not-so-sneakily cutting themselves little slivers (okay, big slivers) all week? Yeah, you got it right. But it's not my fault! The cake is still so moist and perfect and if I don't eat it, it'll go stale, right?
For my birthday, I asked for mostly books and movies. I've been (trying to) write short stories lately, so I've been trying to read short stories, too, for inspiration. The only thing is, I'm usually a novel girl. I like to sink my teeth into a whole books. Kind of like how I like to sink my teeth into an entire chocolate cake? But I digress.
I got The Collected Stories of Colette for my birthday (thanks, Mom and Dad!) and didn't know what to expect. Honestly, I didn't know much about Colette but I knew that she was French and owned Russian Blue cats and that made her okay in my book. This shit is bananas, which is good because the volume is like 650+ pages long. I'm not really sure if I can make any kind of writerly judgements as befit my English major yet, but she spends one whole section in the beginning writing out one-sided conversations with her hairdresser, the lady who makes her corsets, and masseuse. She also talks about clothes a lot. I was sold.
Seriously, though. I've heard that Colette translations in the 70's, when my mother went to college, were so notoriously bad that no one read her. I'm not sure if the situation has changed or if this is all just silly talk, but her language is very exact and she makes very astute and satirical observations which kind of serve to define the era and place (Paris Paris Parissssss) in which she was writing. And I've always admired authors who can give you a good feel of setting without just going on and describing it for eighteen straight pages (*cough*CHEKOV*cough*).
Also, check that haircut.
2) Flat boots
I love me some flat boots. Love, love, love. But, alas, I have really weirdly shaped feet and it's hard for me to indulge this love. As a result, my only pair of flat black boots right now are black and from Target and were very cheap at the time (cheap boots will fit my feet, nice ones won't. Go figure.) but they are also starting to look like they cost $39.95. Thus, I am in the market for new black boots. Piperlime to the rescue. These are all under $100. If that is not fucking fabulous, I do not know what is.