Last night was one of those nights; the kind of night that makes you question your decision to get out of bed.

It started with a lasagna, or what was supposed to be lasagna, but ended with me having one massive clump of noodles.  Seconds after I screeched into my mass o’pasta a bottle of olive oil spilled all over my favorite yoga top, as I filled the sink with water and detergent (all while being topless and really pissed off) my toilet over-flowed filling my bathroom and living room with dirty potty water and used clumps of toilet paper.

I’m not sure who I was in my past life but I’m pretty sure I stole Gandhi’s lunch money or something.

Needless to say I had a few choice words for the universe as I mopped my apartment (three times), diced my lasagna noodles into cubes for some sort of lasagna/zitti hybrid, and hand washed my top–but, needless to say I got through it.

Today as I walked to the subway coming up with lists of things I was never going to do again (cook wearing clothes, date, and urinate topped that list) the little voice that lives in the back of my head, the sweet and logical voice that always sees the bright side but is oft ignored chimed in and said, “You can’t stop living just because you don’t like the way things are going right now.”

Damn if that biznatch isn’t right. My slightly shellshocked-by-life self has been a wee bit paranoid that any action would lead to greater and more frustrating reactions and has thusly been quarantining myself to a life of yoga and Netflix.

Important elements to a life?  Sure, but not what one might call fulfilling.

My lasagnitti is not perfect but it is edible; my shirt lived a good life; and my apartment no longer smells like…well you know.  (Although, I called a cleaning service today to schedule a professional scubadubdub just to be thorough).  The world is not easy or perfect but you can’t stop living just because it’s not working out according to plan–might as well make the most of it, salvage what you can, call in backup when you need it, and buy a new yoga top.


Oatmeal made with almond milk, brown sugar, banana, and almond butter
Coffee with almond milk


The infamous vegan lasagnitti

More roughage




I didn’t eat her for dinner, but I could have.  She’s just that cute.  I spent the night with two of my favorite ladies.  One is much taller than the other (unpictured).  The other (pictured) is undergoing crib training and is none too happy with it…but man, can she rock a tutu.

I failed on my vegetarian month resolution, but sometimes a rotisserie chicken, pita, and orzo salad call your name.  Or maybe that was the delivery guy.