Breaking up is hard to do

So about four times a month (or, you know, once a week…) I contemplate deleting my Facebook.

I always swore that when I was done with school, I would be done with the ‘Book, but then again, this was during a simpler time. A time before crappy FB chatting. A time before “liking.” A time when if a friend was posting wedding/baby pictures, you were FREAKED.

Now, it’s less weird for grown-ups to have an account. (Ahem.)

But you know what? Facebook is still kind of weird.

I still get a little eeked out at the idea of my info online. (Which, yeah, I know, I’m not exactly wearing a bag over my head on this here blog, but anything I say here I say with the INTENTION of everyone seeing it. I have a semblance of control.)

Plus, you know, Facebook is getting lame. There’s a new privacy scare every week. They’ve added too many things. It’s overwhelming, and whenever I do check my account (an occurrence that is becoming less and less frequent), I’m usually thoroughly annoyed at least 3% of the time.

I know what you’re thinking: Well, Justine (if that IS your real name), why don’t you just get off your high horse and delete your account then? Huh? HUH?!

First, calm down. Second, well, there’s always something that holds me back.

Firstly, I like posting pictures for my family/friends to see. (Though this happens a fraction of the amount it used to, amiright?) Of course, I always have this blog for that. But you know what this blog DOESN’T give me?

I’m just going to say it: I can’t stalk anyone on this blog. I would be TOTALLY out of the loop of everything my friends were doing. Because (surprise!) I’m horrible at keeping up with people sans technology. That doesn’t make me a bad person (it doesn’t!), it just means that I need a little help. And I get that help from Facebook.

Plus I would miss this.

So, what I’m saying is, I’ll stay. For now. Anyone else think about jumping ship?

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Everyone loves a kitchen adventure

Ok, so this may be the lamest Kitchen Adventure post ever, but you KNOW I couldn’t not blog about my first cooking expedition in the new apartment.

So anyway, here goes. I made tortellini (store-bought) with marinara (store-bought). And commence photo sequence:

{ingredients}
{Emma always makes fun of the boiling water picture, but in this case, this was the cooking}
{combine tortellini and sauce, sprinkle with cheese, and you're done!}

Maybe not the height of my culinary skill, but I did manage to make dinner in about eight minutes. So, win some, lose some.

New Apartment Pictures!

You guys! I did it! I FINALLY got my apartment to a state where I don’t mind sharing it. Actually, I’m thrilled to share it. The place is spotless.

So, without any further ado, I give you my first Long Island apartment. First, the “Before” shots:

{kitchen, before}
{bedroom, before}
{closet, before}

And now, it’s current state:

{kitchen, after}
{kitchen, after}
{bathroom -- it's basically the same}
{bedroom, after}
{bedroom, after}
{living room, after}
{kitchen & closet, after}

Isn’t it cute? I could not love it more (unless it came with a disposal).

I decided to save the “first meal” photo shoot post for tomorrow since this one is already quite long. Plus, you know, I stayed up until midnight doing this. And I’m an 80-year-old woman who needs her rest.

I cook and I clean and I get no rest, ya know?

Awkward day

I overslept this morning and had to get ready in about fifteen minutes to make the bus.

Remembered on the bus to the train that I was wearing green underwear with a white skirt.

You can’t ACTUALLY see the green unless I hold the skirt against my bum, but I still spent the entire day convinced that anyone walking behind me was thinking, “Well, THAT’S kind of skanky.”

Not skanky. Forgetful. And rushed.

This is my life.

A public apology

Oh, heeeeey guys. *Awkward toe dig*

Hey, remember that time I promised to post pictures of my new apartment by the end of the week? Er…last week? So…guess what didn’t happen?

Apparently the natives are getting restless to see the new digs, but all I can say is that I’m a perfectionist, so it’s not going to happen until I think the place is as perfect as it can be. (I have ONE box left to unpack, but I can’t do it until the big strong boyfriend helps me move a piece of furniture. Then, I promise. A post to end all posts.)

Plus, I have photos of the first meal cooked in the new place! (Warning: It was very easy and involved pretty much all pre-made stuff, but what the heck. It involved boiling water and therefor the use of my new pots and my new stove.)

So, I swear, it’s coming. Tomorrow night at the absolute latest.

Still love me? Please?