moving is the dumbest thing ever

There, I said it. I hate moving. It's maybe my least favorite thing. I have been in the process of a very last-minute, high stress move this mid-month, so posting (and the rest of my life) has been put off. I do have things to share with you, pictures even! But just give me a bit to catch my breath with this new place. For about a month my meals have looked like the above pictures- a can of beans, or a pb&j sandwich, or old faithful cereal, nestled among all the stresses and to-do lists surrounding me right now.

Just about everything, including the way I look, is now different than it was pre-August freak-out. I'm trying my best to just roll with it, and it can be kind of great. Hard at times, but maybe just what I needed. Cue the Cars song....

curried chickpea and cauliflower stew

After moving on the first, I didn't have internet until yesterday, so it was all Amish for me for a while. That's absolutely not true. I had lights, I rode in cars, I zipped up my pants, but it all felt very old timey without the magic box. To get recipes I had to look in this thing called a magazine and flip through its pages. My boyfriend actually had to call 411. Yeah, that does still exist. It's cool, I didn't know either.

So I looked through my old Bon Appetits and actually made some of those recipes I dog-ear every month. Turns out they're really good! Last week it was an awesome oil and vingegar potato salad. Unfortunately I only seemed to make it late at night and then finish the left-overs by the time I remember to take a picture of it the next day (this actually happened twice). I'm sure I'll make it again next week, so just cool your jets.

Last night I went with the curried chickpea and cauliflower stew recipe. Oh my! So simple, so tasty, I'm all aflutter. I forgot that cooking is fun when there's good food at the end! Don't call it a comeback, cause I never left.

on blast like TNT so

So I'm moving. That part is decided. The problem is I've been debating between moving into the crummy yet cheap apartment downstairs or finding a place with my friend and business partner Heather. For a normal person this would be a tough decision- they would most likely reflect on it for a while, then choose the right one for them and go with it. For me this is a huge deal. I cannot make a decision to save my life. I hate them. One of my greatest wishes is to have a personal stylist because I can't even figure out which pants to wear in the morning ('does this look dumb or awesome? dumb! no awesome! shit, I'm just going to change'). So this whole process of figuring out what to do involves lots of me bringing the subject up to anyone who will listen, asking them to tell me what to do, hours of fretting, and multiple pros and cons lists.

On my walk to coffee today I was reminded I'd forgotten to put a pro down on the staying side. I live by a high school and walk past it almost daily. When I first moved here I thought this was a con. I had to shove through crowds of rough looking, gel haired teenagers and it felt a lot like junior high again. Lots of me walking with my head down and saying 'excuse me' really quiet, while more often than not getting pushed. Then that whole head down thing started to pay off. I had forgotten that teenagers are that lovely combination of horrible, active poets and incredibly unorganized. This means they drop a lot of their bad poetry (and rap!) on the ground, for introverted girls like myself to find while going to get their happy-time juice.

The small one above is what I found today. The two-page poem (r&b song?) is my favorite that I've picked up there.