Recipe for Disappointment
The pleasure of these videos comes from the small frame. Everything is contained, orderly, and clean. All of the mixing bowls—so many!—are matching. All of the ingredients and utensils are always there—without price tags.
The pleasure of these videos comes from the small frame. Everything is contained, orderly, and clean. All of the mixing bowls—so many!—are matching. All of the ingredients and utensils are always there—without price tags.
So on back. Back to the music video. Back to the lyrics that make the video all worthwhile. It’s not that I’m expecting everyone to get this.
This was my mistake. I tried to tell a story without knowing the lives behind it, without caring. I did not publish that story, however remarkable I still find it. It was not mine to share.
I forgot that figuring out life does not always mean getting a job or going to grad school.
There comes a point in Tinder messaging where you’ve proven yourselves worthy of exchanging actual text messages.
I hope you find these entry updates linguistically accurate and culturally abhorrent.
So often we tell ourselves to live in the moment, or seize the day, or be present, or rest in the now. But what does that all mean?
I attribute my low maintenance, self-motivation, amiable attitude, and ability to work eighty-hour workweeks to my philosophy of not minding anything.
I feel sort of like Cinderella using every available moment to frantically clean up my life so that I might finally get what I want, except I have no animals, no magic, and no shoes made of glass (thank god).