Holy shit, Sundays. You just keep coming hard and fast. I tried so desperately hard to finish Beauty Tips From Moose Jaw yesterday so I could SAY SO, but alas. And now I have the final three episodes of last season's Project Runway to get through today (not All Stars, but the one before it with Anya, who I'm convinced is going to win. I will cut a bitch who spoilers me, though), so.
It's been a busy week. Eleanor came with me to my Forever YA book club, where she comported herself placidly.
You'd think she never pitches screaming, murderous fits with a Buddha face like that. I'd like to thank my book club members for holding her and not really minding (or not giving away that you minded) when she inevitably spit up on you, and for making eye contact with me while I was breastfeeding. Talking to someone who is being suckled is awkward, I know.
We'd read The Scorpio Races, so all of our snacks were Scorpio-themed, from cinnamon twists and shepherd's pie to NOVEMBER CAKES.
As recipe'd by The Stiefvater herself. I'd make two amendations to the recipe, though: firstly, not to bother with the orange extract or to put hella more in, because in its current iteration it can't be tasted, and secondly, to let the caramel cool a bit before spooning it over the buns so that it STAYS ON instead of pooling on the counter (alternately, spoon over right away, wait ten minutes, scrape off of counter and spoon over again).
In other news, we saw Mission: Impossible 5 (right? Or 4? I'm not sure I saw 2 or 3, so) and it was Bad Ass.
In conclusion, baby feets.