Posting on a Saturday? You’re damn right I am! Why? Because I’m Alle, mothertruckers, and I do what I WANT!
Gorgeous, amazing photo by Janoid.
I know he thinks you’re fine and stuff,
But does he know how to wind you up?
Do you wanna know what’s been turning my key this week? Extra, extra, read all about it.
Big-ass hair accessories.
I wore this giant flower to my brother’s graduation, along with a 3/4 sleeved black minidress and double-strap Mary Janes. I got lots of gaping stares, probably I was the only person there not dressed for a Nascar rally. Sigh. The suburbs are hard sometimes.
Also, my neon pink lipgloss? LE CRUSH. I haven’t been this obsessed with a hot pink lip since the Fafi for MAC collection (Fun n Sexy, I love you). It’s by Jemima Kidd for Target, and the colour is Poseur. Hells yes!
I love this time of year, because it means that I can get my favorite food ever! Mooncakes are a seasonal Chinese sweet pastry, and if you’ve never had them before, please stop what you’re doing and call me because you must try one. They are so effing delicious. You won’t be sorry.
My favourite mooncakes are mini ones with red bean paste filling. They’re not sugary sweet, and the filling is very dense but smooth. The smell always reminds me of dates, and I can basically eat them from now until the end of time. Though I probably shouldn’t. I looked up the recipe and there’s a lot of butter in them.
This is the place to go for mooncakes on the North side. It took me an hour to get to Uptown from Logan Square on Thursday and I considered it time well spent. Chiu Quon Bakery is right off the Argyle redline stop and totally deserves your business. It’s cash only, so bring some dollaz with you if (when!) you go.
Love them. We kinda missed spring this year and went straight into summer, but I still like feeling springlike. These pink ones are some of my favourite cut flowers to buy because they last forEVER and come in every colour you can think of.
These guys are from Fleur on Logan Square Boulevard. That place is heaven on earth for me, and I’d move my shit in there right here and now if I didn’t think I’d be arrested. Their flowers are amazing and survive longer than any flowers from any other florist I’ve ever bought from. Even the fleshy-stemmed ones. I’ll prove it: this was taken a week after I brought this bunch home. Not bad.
The Pitchfork bins.
Hey musicians! Ever wonder what happens to the CDs you send to Pitchfork, feverishly hoping and praying for a favorable review? They end up in giant bins on the floor in my apartment. Just sayin’.
Oh my god, so apparently nobody else knows what I’m talking about when I make Triffid jokes. Even my Mac wants to change the spelling to “Tariffed” like an asshole. Check out a summary of the book, The Day of the Triffids, which my Dad gave me to read when I was eleven, right after I was done with ‘1984’. I know what you’re thinking: neither of these books are appropriate reading material for children with already vivid imaginations. That’s a whole other story.
Anyway. My Triffids are still growing at a rate of knots and will soon require a re-potting if they don’t kill and eat me first. These things are insane. I am in awe of how fast they’re growing and also a little terrified. The best combination of feelings inspired by plants? I think so!
. . .
Friday night was bitchin’. I didn’t quite make it to all the places I needed to be due to some unscheduled hiccups, but it was a fun night nonetheless. Alicia explained that only a small segment of the population gets her beauty, Linds had a mysterious white substance on the back of her shirt and I told the world that I wasn’t a hamster, “I’m a RACECAR!”
It was all well and good until I woke up this morning sniffling and feeling like I’d swallowed a cactus. I should have known I’d get sick again; I’ve been feeling good for what, three whole weeks now? Do I even have an immune system? I’m going to go dose myself with Sudafed and drink lots of water. Fingers crossed I can kill this before I’m bedridden for a month like last time.