Sunday, Sunday. so good to me

I'll start out with something of substance.

"When you write, you lay out a line of words....a minder's pick, a woodcarver's gouge, a surgeon's probe. You wield it, and it digs a path you follow. Soon you find yourself deep in new territory...You make the path boldly and follow it fearfully...In your humility, you lay down the words carefully, watching all the angles...Process is nothing; erase your tracks. The path is not the work..." -The Writing Life, Anne Dillard

Basic but concise, Dillard's has been one of my favorite works this quarter, like a Daoist's guide to writing. I recommend this to anyone. Some of the maxims and advice might be redundant, but there are plenty of solid statements and cute, little metaphors in this quick read, so why not?
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One second power outage. At least I wasn't cooking, but it did cause my printer to re-start and we all know how obnoxious that is with the whirring and grinding and awful machine sounds.

Laundry was costly. The dryer, though it ran a 50 minute cycle, still failed to dry my clothes. Thus, they are all laying out on every hanger I own and on every open beam on my bed, making my room look like a sweatshop/meat shop with clothes hanging everywhere instead of meat. This is also contributing to an insanely noticeable temperature increase upon entering my sweatshop.

All the cafes are crowded in Westwood, so I'll just be studying in my apartment as usual. On the bright side, the sky is starting to clear up and turn a lovely shade of blue. Of course, the downside is that I would much rather be outside frolicking around a park somewhere.

My sleep schedule is fan-freakin-tastic!! I'm sticking to the hard and fast rule in trying to wake up around the same time every day regardless of what time I fall asleep. *Pat myself on the back.*

As for some re-caps, Wednesday evening's dineLA experience was pricey and intimidating. I stumbled into Grace restaurant like a giraffe in my boots, sat down and had nowhere to place my strapless bag. Can I just say that clutches suck. They only work if you are famously fancy and participating in awards season with Charlize Theron. I was impressed with the Dungeness crab salad appetizer, but unfortunately, my smiles ended there. I doubt my pallette is sophisticated enough to appreciate the seasoning of the other dishes, but sometimes fancy = bland. The dessert was most disappointing. Supposed to be:

Choice 1 -	Sticky Toffee Pudding - hazelnut gelato, bruleed bananas
Choice 2 -	Salted Caramel Mascarpone Panna Cotta - rum soaked cake, passionfruit, pomegranate

Suffice to say that all the sauces tasted like salted warheads (EW!), passionfruit my a**. I'll take a peanut butter nutella sandwich anyday. The butter knife also amused me throughout the whole dinner. It had a tiny groove on one side, which captivated me because I still cannot figure out why that exists. I even hacked at the butter with the grooved side down as if it were a pickaxe, but to no avail. Accomplishment of the evening: consuming two consecutive dinners. Did I mention that I ate a full dinner with my dad at Acapulco right before the 3-course evening at Grace with Danny? Must satisfy the food god that is my appetite.

On Friday I locked myself out of the apartment, which was great. I called everyone I knew nearby and was taken in by my down-the-hallmates. Both of them went out to parties, leaving me awkward and grateful on their couch watching Seinfeld until I headed out to a birthday dinner. I'd like to think that incidents like these just add character and enrich my life, while providing entertainment for others.

Saturday morning, we checked out the TOMS sample sale, located in a shady but artsy alley at the local HQ. We bought ten pairs total with high hopes that Mr. TOM stands true to his word and donates ten pairs. The shoes themselves don't last too long, but I plan on being cool and wearing them with socks (that don't show of course, I don't want to be a total dork) to prolong wear.

Now, I must tackle WWI poems and Feminism in Our Time: WWII to the Present. Hopefully I can squeeze in The Visitor and The Red Balloon, or I might have to temporarily freeze my Netflix account so as not to waste more money.