the cure to the day after a rough night?

KIRBY'S EPIC YARN. oh yes

Image from this review at the koalition!

I have no idea why I keep resisting silly cuddly kids games, I really don't. I can't pretend I have a seventeen year old male shut in's taste in video games to make sure that people think I'm authentic and cool. This game takes place in a world of fabric and wool. I know I haven't blogged about my crochet and stitching buzz yet, but I'm one of these crafty stereotypes at heart. And this game appeals to every single inch of my crafty heart. It's almost a throwback to Yoshi's Story on the N64, anyone remember that? (My Da got it for me when I was sick one day as a present when I was around 12, I'll never forget the pure surprise of it, sheer lovely little game)
NOT ONLY THIS
But like, it's legitimately a really good platformer. I resist a lot of contemporary games because first person shooters make me travel sick and I'm just not interested in blowing the face off other people in a warfare game like. It's just a fancier version of toy soldiers, it's never rang a bell for me. Also, obviously the most heavily produced contemporary type of game being the adaptation of a movie. I won't start ranting but basically what I'm saying is my patience is pretty thin for contemporary games.

However, here, it's just touching all the bases. We've got really oldschool side-scrolling gameplay that doesn't get boring, because the physics of the universe Kirby and Prince Fluff are making their way through and literally, stitching back together, are incredible. Kirby's traditional move of sucking people into his belly and robbing their powers is gone, and replaced by a really unique and adaptable (and more often than not, adorable) process of literally, stringing himself around. He's made of a piece of wool. If he's in the water, he's a submarine. If he's in the air, he's a parachute. Savage.

If you don't believe me, just watch the trailer. It's pure love, all of it. The level Ceri's playing while I type is on a beach and involves BECOMING A YARN DOLPHIN. Here's the trailer!

Also, as IMDB just told me and Ceri, the dude who narrates the UTTERLY ADORABLE story parts of it, is  Paul Vaughn, who did the voice-over for BBC's Horizon for the guts of 17 years! (Horizon is how I learn things about the world now that I'm in a creating type course not a learning type one) The narrative sections are gorgeous. Real sweet.

IGN

(THIS boss is called Hotwings and I milled the face off him and it was deadly)

We haven't tried out the two-player just yet, but doubtlessly that's going to be deadly too. We're on world 4 already after only having bought it this afternoon. Shockin, that's what being knackered after a night of legging it around an event which facilitated the partying of around 450 people does for you. Hope the rest of our team are resting up too.

Also, lasagna is an incredible cure for a rough night. Communally made lasagna. Lasagna hint of the year: cheese sauce made with Dubliner, and sneak in some grated carrots and peas into the beef as well as onions and mushrooms. Now. You can have that one for free, lucky you.


So that's kind of it really just checking in, barely alive, spent all of AD2 sober as a judge and I still feel like I've been hit by a car! It was probably all the running up and down the queue outside with cookies to keep everyone waiting to get in happy that knocked me out a bit, it was pretty chilly and I was dressed up as Sloth (pyjamas). The theme was the 7 Deadly Sins, remember? But it seems like all the guests had a deadly time, and we had a good time bringing it to them. Hopefully the feedback'll roll in over the coming week: sure this was the biggest thing Milk & Cookies have done yet so with a bit of luck we'll learn a lot from it, and there'll be something even more epic next time!



so party on lads
talktyis in the week



s


P.S
Tomorrow I'll write up my review of the talk/session Warren Ellis gave up in NUIG last Thursday night! It was real interesting!

well i know what i'm doing this coming friday...

I always rant on about how volunteering with Milk & Cookie stories was one of the most formative moves of my career, and we've a massive shindig going down this Friday coming that I sincerely wholeheartedly recommend everyone attends. Not only do these guys really care about contemporary storytelling and great great baking, they seriously know how to throw a party. Not a tea-party for your granny. The kind of messed up in the dark hot basement of an office building burlesque poetry stories funk jazz bring your own booze parties that I'd kind of forgotten could even happen. And all from the providers of such a wholesome cuddly event as Milk & Cookies? Oh yes, oh yes. After Dark 1 was legitimately pure rock and roll with a queue down the road until 3am, but this time we've a bigger venue to facilitate EVERYONE'S mayhem. It's still BYOB, it's still depraved... in fact, probably even more so. Ladies and Gentlemen I give you, Milk & Cookies AFTER DARK 2

DANCE! We're back. We were back last month. But now we're back with the other thing. It's that time again. The lights go down, the curtains come up, and we reveal what goes on in our minds After Dark... Six months ago some of you queued around the block from the Clarendon Basement for 7 hours of music, spoken word, dance and balloon animals. And stories, obviously. While cleaning up the mess of all those minds we blew at the first After Dark, Milk & Cookies had a thought: BIGGER. Magazines may say different, but we at M&C know that Bigger is Better. Share with your friends, post on your wall; this is going to be the biggest thing Dublin has seen since the Pope, and this is inside and it doesn’t even involve the Pope. On Friday March 11th, Milk & Cookie Stories is taking over The Complex, Smithfield, and dragging it straight to hell for After Dark 2 - Seven Deadly Sins. Yes it's back again, quite possibly the best party EVER (and so soon it's sinful), with two stages of the most amazing bands, poets, storytellers, dancers, comedian and general performerie that Ireland has to offer. And some weirder stuff too, but you'll have to come on down and get rowdy with us to find out about that (that's the surprise of the thing). Doors are at 6pm, show at 7pm, we all go home as damned masses at 2 minutes past midnight. It's €7 in AND it's BYOB. We suggest you bring your dancing shoes and your Amazo-Goggles, to stop your eyes from falling out. Line it Up! Jazzberries (the funky soulstepping jazz minxes who wowed with their renditions of some classic Jamiroquai and N*E*R*D tunes at the first After Dark) Roger Gregg's Crazy Dog Audio Theatre (known for their live radio theatre, you may have caught them at After Dark 1 - they have an extra sinful surprise in store for you this time around!) The Brownbread Players (Dublin's wittiest sketch comedy troupe of the famed Brownbread mixtape) Noise Machine (an eclectic bunch of madmen known for their extremely energetic live shows and bizarre sense of lyrical humour) Three-o-Troupe (darling burlesque act who titillated with their show at After Dark 1) CAH-44 and Ambiencellist (one of Dublin's finest performance poets paired with one of Dublin's most innovative musicians... magic) The Giraffes (a folky, piano-driven, soulful pop band whose music will make you feel like you're trapped on a tropical island. possibly the island from Lost) Colm Keegan (award winning performance poet and organiser of Nighthawks, one of Dublin's best arts nights) Gareth Stack (quite possibly Dublin's most controversial comedian and organiser of comedy night, Marshmallow Ladyboy Jesus) Inklude Collective (hot and happening artist's collective known for their mad live illustration skills) Stephen James Smith (performance poet, organiser of the awesome Glor sessions) Valerie Lynch (young happening comedienne) Andrew Hozier Byrne (wonderful solo musician) DJ Pipboy (of Live or Dead Promotions - www.facebook.com/djpipboy /www.facebook.com/liveordeadpresents) ... and a whole bunch of both TBC and completely different super secret stuff (think sinful) to keep yourself occupied if for whatever reason you’re not into music, stories, poems or sexy, sexy dancing. Our standards are still stupidly high. Believe us when we say that this is going to be special, because we have no interest in throwing a party if it’s not any use. If you haven’t heard of someone on this bill, it’s because you are about to, soon. Still need more info, check our Facebook page! IMPORTANT BITS – We will not be selling alcohol at this event, however it is BYOB, so please be responsible. Between that and some of the acts; we reluctantly have to make this 18+. If beer is your poison, please try and make it cans instead of bottles. We will have some open mic slots available, so if you have a story or a particular insane talent – especially if they’re a little outré for our regular show – bring them along. No music or stand-up comedy rehearsals though please – as sins go we’re particularly fond of WRATH. And of course, we’re still bringing the COOKIES. (GLUTTONY!) Greed, Gluttony, Sloth, Lust, Wrath, Envy + Pride - these are a few of our favourite things... ...and yours too. You know how we know? Because Milk & Cookies 's ♥'s you! Could use a party? We know you could. Come get damned with us.

sneaky peek at the cover of FOLLIES yo

Even back when Helena Egri and I met and basically instantaneously became connected at the brain, around ten years ago in the blue and soul-draining corridors of Manor House, she always promised she'd design the cover of my first book.

And she did.

Here's a peek:

A lot of the poems are set in and around beds, hence the bed. The fairylights that frame the piece are adorned with bits and pieces that re-occur in a lot of my writing, like umbrellas and ladybirds. The background is squared because, as she well knows after our long creative partnership, I'm more than slightly ocd about writing on squared paper. All my notebooks and moleskines are of the squared variety. Not too sure why, I just can't really focus as well when I'm writing on lines. So the squared background is basically an image of the background that all my poetry would be written on. 

The title of the book, obviously enough, Follies, basically means that I'm well aware that everything I do at the age I am at will, at some point later in my life, seem absurd to me. I've heard  many other poets mourn their earlier publications, mortified at how terrible they were. I've even been told it's more appropriate to hold off until you're older to publish a collection. So my response to this is in the title: this is a book of poetry about love and youth and being drunk and sleepy and silly, with a small collection of surreal flash fictions as a coda. It's a tower built that might serve no purpose who's to tell yet, but for me, it's an achievement, even if all it'll ever be is a monument to my early twenties. I finished my acknowledgements, finally, today, and wrote my dedication line. These were extremely hard, getting them right. I have an extended 'thanks' written which I'll read out at the launches of it and put up here for people to read as well. Dennis from Lapwing has been an utter joy to correspond with about the process, and I'm really excited to see the finished product.

The lovely Mia Gallagher, who gave me some advice that I would seriously be a different writer without, read a draft of it and wrote me a quote for the back that honestly nearly drew tears out of me. And now the cover: Hels texted me when I was on the bus to Galway to tell me it was in my inbox. I think it's gorgeous and I feel like the book's a real thing now. 

Helena's an animation final year student and a life-long collaborator of mine. When I was fifteen I used to ring her up and read her what I'd been writing and she'd paint or draw a sketch of what I was reading her. I still have the pictures, and they're still stunning. I won't gush about her, she's just pure heroic. Her twitter name is nee_nar if anyone fancies following her. She's also the co-creator of Narcolepsy/Sleep Skips my Heart, but that's a whole different epic tale (again, it's amazing what an oppressive convent school will do for two creative young minds)

That's it for now, I'd a really amazing few gigs over the weekend which I'll write about tomorrow or the next day,

til then

party on

feet feet feet

So I have like four pairs of shoes. Docs, River Island going out half- flat shoes, grey Cons, and Toms. Oh, and a pair of heels I've had for three years from Penneys which are, oddly enough, signed by Amanda Palmer.  I moved out of home and legitimately donated, sold, swapped, evacuated, every stupid pointless pair of wear once to match a frock, uncomfortable, ill-fitting shoes I had. There were about thirty. (I was basically a hoarder.) Don't get me wrong now, I think shoes can be incredibly beautiful. But if they impair my motor-skills in any way, shape or form, I am not wearing them. I never wanted to be Carrie Bradshaw when I grew up anyway, bet her feet were real sore all the time.

So basically now I have four. I'm happy with my four. Especially my Toms. Well actually, now I have five, because yesterday I bought a second pair of Toms. These little dudes are really big in the states, like proper big. They're something of a hipster-shoe, admittedly, but I read about them and they looked soft and comfortable, so I went out on a limb and bought a pair. They sell them in Scuch, not in as many awesome colours and patterns and fabrics as you can get them online, but it's better than having to sweet talk a credit card out of a parent/boyfriend. I also like plain things because I am fundamentally very dull, so I got the grey ones. Now, keep in mind, I live in Galway approximately half the time, so it rains a lot. And these are espadrille-esque little canvas dudes. But now that the weather has gotten warmer, I literally don't feel comfortable in anything else. The way the sole is built on the inside gives really subtle support, and the fabric is some mad mix of soft and stiff that doesn't actually cut the flesh on my foot the way every other pair of shoes I've ever bought in my life has. Not even when they were new. They don't take any breaking in. 

www.toms.com

When I was in the shop I asked the girl who was working there did they have a specific colour (this one actually, it's herringbone and I'm sort of in love with it) and we got talking about the brand. She was half kind of laughing because one of the other staff members there was mad into his Toms as well, and had never worn them herself so didn't really understand exactly how comfortable they were. I don't normally vouch for products, ever, it's not my bag, labels aren't my thing, but these shoes are literally the only pair I've ever owned that hasn't made it difficult for me to walk around. My feet are real delicate, despite the massive tattoos on them, and the bones in my heels are slightly displaced (something to do with tendons? a med student explained this to me at a party once) so it's quite hard to get shoes, especially pumps, that fit. As mentioned above, never a moment hassle with these lads. But the girl in the shop was a bit like, oh, another Toms head. I was like, here, you wear them around the shop for an eight hour shift and tell me if your feet hurt afterwards. They're only forty euro as well, actually, 36 with a student discount. Realistically, I've worn mine well over 36 times, so in terms of a euro a wear? Winner.

(these are the ones I'm pure in love with)

Not only this, in terms of comfort and all, these dudes have a 'one for one' policy, which means for every pair of shoes you buy, a pair goes to a child in a 3rd world country who otherwise wouldn't have any. Now, there is some debate on this issue, because 'handouts' and whatnot are somewhat frowned upon by international charities etc, but I think the heart of this idea is definitely in the right place. A bit like a hippier Nike, Toms are kind of selling you a lifestyle. They have wedding styles, which look pure awesome as far as I'm concerned. Maybe Galway has just turned me into too much of a hippie, but I really like all this. 

Also, when you get your shoes in the box, they give you a little flag with the Toms logo on it, and a sticker too. Free things? I love free things. Especially stickers. It feels a little strange to do a review of an item of clothing, or even a brand like, but having bought my second pair yesterday (in a lovely chocolate brown colour) and with summer sweeping in on us, I just felt like I had to recommend them. They're unisex as well. They haven't really become popular here yet, but I feel like they're kind of just on the cusp of it. They've been around for years like, and I kind of sense that perhaps there might be an Ugg-boot like uptake on them, purely for their comfort and plain design. Luckily these little duds are max going to cost you around 40 blips, instead of 200.

So there's been loads going on, but I'm learning how to blog properly and specifically. I'll whip up a post about some awesome news I've been getting lately in the next day or so. Also, expect a retrospective of Boardwalk Empire, which me and Ceri finished watching the other day. It was savage. 

party on

more later in the week

s

eh boardwalk empire? yes? every day. every DAY.

So I'm a television snob. But not your regular, excuse me I only watch Sopranos, Madmen and The Wire type of high-class viewing television snob. I only watch what I like, nay, what I love, as opposed to what's deemed classic or groundbreaking, the usual. So I'm a little out of the loop because I'm still snuggling over repeats of early X-Files and House because they're easy to watch, really repetitive like, and when I get the time to watch television (mostly late at night before I go asleep) because I lead a stupidly busy life, I want to know I'm going to be gently entertained in a way that I understand. Cuddled. Familiar, attractive characters. Nice easy storylines that resolve themselves quickly. Mild drama.

I reserve challenges for books and games normally. Being a viewer is really hard for me post taking a degree that was founded mostly in critical theory, because you sit there with your big feminist sledgehammer or your twelve-point story arc guide going 'WRONG WRONG WRONG' about everything. Poor dialogue makes me want to get sick. I was just carved into a nasty little critic over four years, and my tastes have been really closely refined. Mind neatly narrowed. Spare time, diced. So when I choose to invest in a new series, say the way I briefly did in Madmen (which slapped me with an ugly distaste because everyone in it is so, so malicious and not even in an interesting Battlestar Galactica type way), I have seriously high standards. Like proper high standards. As in if you take me halfway through a season one, have a handsome protagonist, compelling drama, then you dim the lights and say something that jars with me in any, way shape or form or even begin to bore me in the slightest I am so out of there like a bat out of hell you should just consider your number deleted and the DVDs loaned to someone I know will never give them back. That's how high.

So people have been preaching Boardwalk Empire to me for a while. I'll level with you. I don't watch things based on who directed them or who's in them, because that's what people kept on at me about. Martin Scorsese? Don't care for his films particularly, not going to rant and rave like a film-nerd about how important they are, whatever. Steve Bruscemi? Totally thought he was someone else until I saw him in the title sequence, hadn't a clue who he was. I'm not a pop-culture nerd, I'm a life nerd, the specifics of actors and directors concerned me when I was fifteen, and maybe when I was in my undergrad, now not so much. IMDB was designed for people like me who have chronic celebrity name/face/general remembering issues.

Needle Design & Illustration

I gave in to it last night when I was kind of reaching a state of relative normality and ability to maybe engage with something that was slightly more stimulating than Ace of Cakes or Jamie's 30 Minute Meals. It's good. It's really, really good. Visually remarkable, like particularly the pilot episode, so maybe all this talk about Scorsese might be true. The setting of it is in Atlantic City, 1920, and Christ does it cover the glamour and the squalour all at once. The party scenes revel in decadence and then go straight to scenes in the humble tiny homes of small Irish immigrant families by the sea. Some atmosphere on it.

Speaking of Irish, the lass from Intermission, Kelly Mac Donald (who, IMDB tells me, is apparently going to play Helena Ravenclaw in the last Harry Potter movie, lucky her) plays this misfortunate youngone who's story I can sort of predict, and has one of those godawful turn of the century Sean O'Casey Irish accents. I know she's meant to and that's probably what Irish people talked like but it's kind of making me angry. She's very compelling aside from that and the two children who play her kids are pure adorable.

As a central protagonist, Bruscemi is spot on. He has a great face. So unlikely looking. His character. Enuch 'Nucky' Thompson has some really terrific moments (one or two are a little obvious but most of them are great) where you can legitimately see in his face that he understands that there's a lot of fucked up things going on in the society of the 1920s. He wants women to vote. He seems uncomfortable with slaves. Now I'm only two episodes in, so this might change, don't know yet. But we really are shown his discomfort at a lot of the things in his society - despite him being a blatant total gangster, he's kind of supposed to be a hooker with a heart of gold type. I think I'm with him for the long haul.

There are some terrific historical landmarks in it, in terms of characters, I won't drop any names but Jesus there's one point in the pilot when a driver introduces himself and you nearly leap off your seat with excitement because that was a real person in the real world! Very effectively done, the script is excellent. I mean there are moments where as Ceri pointed out, I was having Black Swan-esque frustration fits, because there were a couple of really blatantly over-drawn THIS IS A METAPHOR, DO YOU UNDERSTAND METAPHORS? moments but, dare I say it, I forgave them quite quickly. There are some moments in the plot where I'm like yeaaahhh x or y is blatantly going to happen here but I hope I'm surprised nicely. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of my recovery lying in a ball and watching the next ten hours of the series. However, if it puts one foot out of line it's getting deleted then it's on to Sons of Anarchy or back to Carnivale for me, hype may precede it and it has done well so far, but if it makes me want a second series... it's sound in my book.
I'll keep yis posted. I'm off to watch another two episodes then apply for a job (ugh being an adult ugh)



party
on

you know you might be getting better when you regain your sense of humour

Hello all. I'd legitimately planned to blog like three times since last Sunday, but alas, awoke Friday morning with no post-show-party hangover (Narcolepsy went brilliantly), but a fever and my left ear, tonsil and neck inflamed. The manly half was pretty much the same.
As far as I am concerned, Friday the 25th of February did not exist, because I spent all of it lying on my face, trying to avoid eye contact with my parka hanging on my door, because it was actually a moving skull. And my owl bag which contains my Lomo camera, also a skull. So if I didn't look at them they wouldn't eat me. Day faded into night punctuated only by visits from my most loyal friend: Neurofen Cold & Flu, purchased by Ceri, in literally the hour before he got struck with the same thing. This is what it looks like, in case any of you are unaware.

So the day somehow rolls on into Saturday, at which point he and I are so ill that we make an elaborate plan to get to the Gobus, which is miraculously intervened with by my father (better known as the single greatest man alive) who goes into 'MUSTKEEPMYCHILDALIVE' mode and no less than drives across the country to rescue me and Ceri. And drives back - as we listen intently, in our sick-comas, to the election results. Sure didn't we all full well know it'd be Fine Gael and Labour - hopefully Labour'll knock some cop on into them. But shush with the politics aren't we all up to our eyeballs with it anyways.

The worst thing by far, worse than puke and delirium and sweat was having to cancel a gig for the first time. The Block T Fundraiser - I'd been really sweetly invited to come contribute some of my poetry to the night but was only barely able to write an apology e-mail. Heartbroken. Hopefully they'll have me back another time. Also, worse than this, having to cancel a gig for the second time. A new spoken word night in The Roisin Dubh of all places, Testify Nights, where my name was even on the poster (I have a copy in my bedroom), I'd to hand over my sword on that one too. Two gigs down. I'm determined to be up on my feet for the Speakeasy in Greystones and The Good Room in The Mercantile on Saturday. It's always the important weeks that the wrecking ball hits you, isn't it? 

Yesterday, another lost soldier and today I am going to a second doctor for more being poked and prodded and hopefully fixed. One thing I will say, is that my mood has increased. I suppose that's what happens really isn't it, you cheer up a little then your body follows. I'm trying to write a poem about me and Ceri both having the same dream last night, but that isn't working yet. Maybe my poetic gears are still infected and gross. What made me realise my brain was back to normal was this:

Regretsy, where DIY meets FML

Two hours this morning spent on Regretsy, where the lovably hateful webmistress scours Etsy.com (online vintage/handmade marketplace) for the most hideous creations known to man. Sometimes however, they are pure genius, like this AMAZING cross stitch. I'll leave it to you to read through the pages and laugh for yourself, but any sex-toy that features Eva Peron engraved in copper on it... well I just feel the world has to know. 

So long story short, I'm only dyin leave me here in my sweatbed with my equally ill boyfriend to feel sorry for myself and watch Boardwalk Empire until we recover 

party

on

my my my monday

GOOD MORNING WORLD. The play is up on it's very lovely legs, last night's rehearsal was one of those experiences where you feel like the project, cast director words you name it, has done itself justice. If we can do that again when we go into the world on Wednesday for our two shows, then keep up the energy for Thursday, we'll be champions of the small stage.

This morning I made an application for Galway's Town Hall Theatre's 'Studio THT' project, which is for new shows. Not sure if  we're applicable just yet, however, I figured I'd whip in an application just in case. Keep yer fingers crossed for us. Ben Folds hasn't been in touch since the tweet I got back, which was obviously very exciting, but I'm just pleased he knows what's happening. We'll get the show video'd and see where it goes from there (Youtube is a wonderful platform for sharing art you know).

Did you know I had my first go on a motorbike last night? It was amazing. My lead actor in Sleep Skips My Heart NATURALLY drives a motorbike and gave me a lift home. It was so exciting that I wrote a poem about it, which I would post here only that counts as self publishing. Ugh, rules.

In other news, I've reached the very difficult stage with the book where I've to write my acknowledgements, and my dedication. There have been so many incredible people who've helped me along my writing journey and given me time that they really didn't have to: hopefully I won't forget anyone. Feels like we're really making progress with it. It might be a real live thing in no time at all.

The cover is something else I'm really looking forward to figuring out, but the less I say about that at the moment the better.

I also thought I'd list some of my upcoming gigs, just in case anybody'd be interested in stalling the ball along.

Saturday 26th February:         Block T Fundraiser
Tuesday 1st March:               Testify Nights at the Roisin Dubh
Friday 4th March:                  The Speakeasy, Bray
                                             (headlined by Elaine Feeney! So excited!)


I'll also be playing the Caca Milis Cabaret in Wexford in the coming months, The Brownbread Mixtape in May, and The Mutant Cabaret in Cork in June. And competing in the Cuirt Grand Slam in April. How super exciting is all this? And by the time Summer comes I'll have a book under my arm too.

On a foodier note: Marks & Spencer ready meals are something I've a bit of a love/hate relationship with, considering I'm kind of obsessed with Jamie Oliver and home cooking and all that shite. However, on Saturday night when I was in Dublin in a state of emotional turmoil over tweeting Ben Folds and looking like a madwoman, myself and the man treated ourselves to what is basically the MEGA ready meal. It's called THE BIG PLATTER. A big massive box full of chicken wings, ribs, battered mushrooms, potato skins: lardfest 2011. Perfect sit in a ball watching X-Files when you're real knackered at the end of a long week food. I mean I know I'm normally one for sticking to reviews of chocolate, but this meal deserves an honourable mention. It was an experience to say the very least. I mean, in some cases the food was quite dry, but the sheer quantity of pretty decent nibbles for a tenner was not half bad. The box it came in was pretty savage too and I'm pretty much a massive sucker for good packaging in general, so it gets mega points for being visually attractive.

NOW in saying all this, I prefer home cooking. I'm getting really good, might whip up a recipe for my EPIC GET ALL YOUR VEG MEAL in the next few days, because it pure does make a difference to how good you feel from one end of the day to the other. 

(this from the woman who has just eaten an entire packet of maryland cookies for breakfast...head hung in shame)

SO YES

WRITING AND FOOD

ULTRA COMBO

ALL YOU NEED TO EVER STAY ALIVE

party on

sarah