On my Instagram:
On my playlist: I've been listening to the radio lately, and here are a few songs I've noted: "Ho Hey," The Lumineers; "Everybody Talks," Neon Trees; "Little Talks," Of Monsters and Men; and "Starships," Nicki Minaj. That last one is not a typo. I should probably be ashamed of myself, but it's so damn perky. Anything to keep me awake on my morning commute.
On my plate: Grilled sandwiches. Make this one: Sauteed onions and bell peppers, half an avocado, shredded cheese to hold it together. You will want to kiss me.
On my Kindle: "The Paris Wife." I'm halfway through this book and I am a woman obsessed. I've been Googling Hadley and Ernest like I've never heard of them. I need to know more, more, more. I am pulling all my Hemingway books off my shelves. It might be time to do some re-reading (and I don't do that often). The crazy thing is I'm not in love with "The Paris Wife." I feel like Hadley's voice is a little flat. I don't blame Paula McLain; she's writing a fictional account of nonfictional events, which is always going to be tall order. Criticism aside, my interest has been rekindled in The Lost Generation, so the author has done her job.
On my TV: The Olympics. Also, some very bizarre mid-century dramedies on Netflix.
On my wish list: A day ago I might've told you I was on the lookout for some yellow flats. That was before these went on sale at Anthropologie and I snagged them.
On my mind: During Alexa's 18-month checkup, her doctor suggested that she seems ready to start toilet training. I ordered a few potties online and in a few days I will be trying to navigate this very scary thing. We are going to do this leisurely and with no pressure. Advice is welcome and appreciated. Do you have any?