the amazing art of liz climo

Sometimes you find something so great, that you sit at your desk and giggle…and then you send it to every single person who happens to be signed in to Google Hangout in that moment (sorry everyone actually trying to work). Today, it is the amazing illustrations/comics of Liz Climo. And I’m obsessed. Add to that, I think I have identified a few people’s spirit comics.

Can we guess which one belongs to which of the #squad? (Also, a lot of the prints are for sale, danger)

weekend recap.


This weekend brought me my five year college reunion. On Friday, I wasn’t that excited about it but I guess that could be because I never really left.

But it was an awesome time filled with parties, bbqs (dear Georgetown University Grilling Society…I miss you) and friends. Most importantly of course was the fact that the University wanted to remind us of what we’ve been missing for the past five years. The education, the community, the beer pong…strike that last one, oh wait, never mind they did in fact roll out three beer pong tables for the Saturday night party. Keeping it classy, Georgetown, keeping it classy.

a piece of my heart.


We got to know each other because a lot of things: our shared connection to undergrad, mutual friends, the love of certain restaurants, etc. She was the person who would sit in line with me for hours, just waiting with me, so that I could meet the Pioneer Women. She was the person, that when I needed to drive home (2 hours each way) to vote, came along as long as lunch was involved. She was the person that I could call on whim to go on a random drive, meet at the farmers market, eat an unplanned meal, or get coffee with me after physical therapy. All in all, she was, and will always remain, an amazing friend.

What kept us together however, especially most recently, was a bit of a different bond. Both of us bonded over caring about boys that we, in fact, aren’t dating and the neverending prodding of people with the question “so why aren’t you dating?” In the beginning, we would laugh over how much people tried to get involved with something that clearly wasn’t their business. By the end, our long talks were about everything under the sun, but a reoccuring one was if it was okay for her to love someone, who well, probably didn’t care in the same way. But in what some people would deem the ubber serious, we found laughter because, well, that is who she was. We laughed over our own absurdities, poked fun at ourselves. We were always there to provide a listening ear and a bit of encouragement and to point-blank tell each other when they had crossed into a crazy line of thought. I will never forget those moments. The constant support. The unceasing laughter. That joy.

I love you and miss you my dear, dear friend. You take with you a piece of my heart.

Kathleen Benz
aka the British Friend
September 22, 1984 – May 29, 2010

epic college fail.

Tonight my roommate and I ventured out of our area of DC and went across town to my alma mater for the 37th annual Cherry Tree Massacre. And it was there that we realized my biggest college failure…

…I didn’t snag myself an acapella guy.

This is a serious problem. One that I am going to need to figure out how to remedy fairly quickly. Hmm, we’ll see how this goes.

blueberry crumb bars = heaven in a bar

There are days were you are all sunshine and roses. And then there are days when every sentence ends with self-censoring and you have taken so many pills of ibprofen that you wonder if it’s healthy.

I’m just going to let you guess what day today is.

But instead of a lament, let me instead present, the blueberry crumb bar, otherwise known as “the dessert that will totally get me a spouse, maybe,”:

So this may not be the best picture of the beautiful photo of them. It may be because it’s a grainy photo, or because of the flash/lack of flash. or it could just be my horrific point-and-shoot camera. Can we tell I feel disdain for it?

But back to the beauty of these little beauties. So, it was March and I was going out of town. To be completely honest, I was running away from a lot of things: repeated fights with people, my dwindling bank account, the need to move, and my health throwing week long migraines at me. When a friend gave me the opportunity to escape the city for the weekend, you can bet that I did a little cheer, a dance, a squeal and then promptly had a panic attack (never should be said that I am a simple girl). I had just committed myself to go out of town with a coed group, and I really only knew one of the other seven well, and one other moderately well…pretty much, I have just committed to running away for a weekend with a group or almost strangers. Begin, panic attack.

The Thursday before we left, the world of my mother came to me in a dream sequence (actually, that is totally a lie). But I did kind of channel her, cause she always said that if I wanted people to like me I should bake for them, and you bet your socks that’s what I did (you can also bet I went overboard, which I did). On a Thursday night, in between cleaning, showering and a new episode of 30 Rock, I made margarita cookies, hamantaschen and blueberry bars. Those last ones were an impulse cause I had blueberries going bad, and oh what a tasty impulse it was. And friday morning, running on very little sleep, I packed up these gems (and enough goodies to add a second tote bag to my stack of bags) and was on my way to work, and then to the lovliness of Western Maryland. And oh, were they loved.

Needless to say, I became the bane of several waistlines, and one of my favorite comments of the weekend ensued on Saturday when after getting up from a nap I couldn’t find the hamantaschen container. When I finally vocalized this outloud, I’m pretty sure the response came, “the what?” folllowed by, “oh the jam cookies…we took them downstairs when we watched the movie.” Pretty much, they, like there blueberry crumb bar siblings, were enjoyed.

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