In general, I think I’m relatively practical. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m not going to be President of the United States, a world-renowned actress, a professional athlete, or the greatest mind of the 21st century. I know it’s not in the cards for me to buy an island, drive a Ferrari, or own a unicorn. (Although, truth be told, I still haven’t given up hope that I’ll someday have my own cooking show on Food Network, despite the fact that my idea of cooking currently involves frozen meals and a microwave. A girl’s gotta dream.)

HOWEVER, when it comes to crafting, all bets are off. Innocently perusing the 746.43s at the library, I came across a book with surprisingly good projects.

Fully Woolly may be a kiddie book, but it reignited a flame in the forgotten embers of my heart. It reminded me of my fascination with FELTED BEADS!

Naturally, I began searching the interwebs for a good source for wool roving, the critical component in any bead felting endeavor. Thus begat a series of daydreams that escalated exponentially.

Kiki: I’m going to buy some roving and start making beads!
Kiki: I’m going to love making beads so much that I’m going to start giving handmade necklaces to all of my loved ones!
Kiki: I’m going to need to mix my own colors pretty soon, so I’m going to start dyeing my own roving with Kool-Aid!
Kiki: My hand-dyed roving is going to be so awesome that I’m going to start spinning my own yarn!!!

Mark my words. By 2009’s end, I shall have spent hundreds of dollars on my soon-to-be-forgotten felted-beads-phase.

But can you blame me? FELTED BEADS!!!!!!!

I hope everyone found time this weekend to hit the Sexy Yard Sale. I sure did!

It’s nice picking up an old hobby again.

It’s like finding a twenty you had forgotten was in a birthday card, or noticing a hand-written letter at the bottom of a pile of junk mail. These beads aren’t good, but they’re a start.

Downside to picking up an old hobby again: noticing all of these hobby-related accessories that you suddenly can no longer live without!

I have a tub of leftover strawberry frosting in the fridge.

I also have spoons.

Uh oh.

Public Enemy No. 1

Raisins and yogurt. How much healthier can you get?

One handful begets another handful begets another…

And then you read the ingredients and discover that these healthy little nuggets– vitamins, really– are primarily made of sugar. And you keep eating them, because they are amazing. And soon you feel kind of ICKY because you’re SO FULL of yogurt-covered raisins. But they’re so GOOD. But you feel slightly sickened. So you stop and promise to remember this feeling and never eat them again. The next day, you resist them repeatedly, despite several trips to the kitchen. Until finally you succumb at 9:00 p.m. and find yourself in another yogurt-covered raisin stupor, whining on your blog.

Yogurt-covered raisins. They’ve destroyed LIVES.

But I’m still going to go get just a few more.

Edited to add: Ughhhhhhhhh.

Today was a perfect day!

I saw a historic landmark defaced with googly eyes:

I bought aspiring-goth-girl nail polishes:

My lovely sister cupCAKE gave me the best mini cupcakes EVER, along with a real one!

I ate a grilled brie sandwich for dinner:

And I ended the evening with a cake bedazzled with a plastic ballerina in a metallic silver tutu:

All in all, an excellent day!

Happiness is…

… a UPS delivery of handmade truffles from your personal chocolatier!

If you have a Trader Joe’s within a 50 mile radius, you might not want to read this post.

Because if you do, you will have access to legal crack cocaine, and you may never live a normal life again.

Trader Joe’s Espresso Pillows
Crunchy Toffeed Espresso Bits Covered in Dark Chocolate

This here is some good shiznit. Note:

Toffee
Espresso
Dark Chocolate

This little tin, innocent though it may seem, will lure you in with its siren call. You peel off the plastic, pop the lid, and plan to eat “just a few.” “Just a few” turns to ten, which quickly turns to twenty. Before you know it, the tin is empty and your belly is filled with crunchy toffeed espresso bits covered in dark chocolate. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

They’re so tiny that you don’t get too worried until you realize your “just one more” or “okay, two more” has become a full-fledged sugar rampage.

I finally had to hide the bits that were left under three boxes of green tea, but I don’t think that will really stop me. I might need an intervention.

Generally speaking, I’d say I’m relatively in touch with my hippie side. I recycle religiously. I air dry most of my clothes. I unplug my electronics. I love wheat germ and oat bran. I even tried to eat a hemp dinner roll once, but it was so bad that we threw the whole batch out the window for the birds.*

HOWEVER. There is one hippie thing that fills me with unreasonable RAGE. It’s the kind of anti-hippie fury that makes me wonder if I was a Republican in a former life.

Açaí berries.

Oh, sure, they have a bunch of cool accent marks. And yeah, Oprah pimps them. But to me, they represent all that is unholy about the health food movement. TRENDY FRUITS! Foods should not be trendy! Foods should not need celebrity endorsements! Foods should not be added to other foods for the sole purpose of making health claims!

Between açaí and goji** berries, I’m at my wits’ end. If I ever see a box of Cap’n Crunch’s Crunch Berries proclaim “Now with Açaí!,” I might grab the nearest box cutter and hack up the entire cereal aisle.

* Birds won’t touch hemp rolls, either.
** Heh, heh. Turns out goji berries are really called WOLFBERRIES. Not so cool now, are you, WOLFberries? Actually, I take that back. I’d totally go for something called a wolfberry.