Cake, cake, cake

The last week has been…intense. There have been some low lows (and, let’s be real, quite a few crying jags), but some damn good moments too.

Yesterday was my birthday, and while the days leading up to it were hard — and I didn’t feel much like celebrating, which is really saying something since I usually love birthdays — but my family and friends rallied like the champions they are and pulled me out of my funk. Oh, and much of this involved gluten-free angel food cake (with strawberry icing, because hell yes) for breakfast.

My mom got sprinkles on the sides through sheer force of will, as well as straight-up sorcery.

Basically, my goal these days is to keep myself busy, entertained, and as far from the Sneaky Downward Spiral of Depression and Doom (which I’m hereby declaring both a thing and a proper noun) as possible. My most heavily-relied upon tactics? Reading and Netflix, and trying to stay the hell off my phone, which it turns out is a lot like trying to run uphill while wearing roller skates and carrying Mr. Snuffleupagus on your back.

What? I never exaggerate. And I’m totally not exaggerating now.

Anyways, rediscovering engrossing forms of entertainment helps me keep my Facebook screen time to a marginally (and I do mean marginally) more reasonable level. What does this entail, you ask? Well, lately…

I’ve been binge-watching Grace and Frankie, which is totally a national treasure. I’ve always loved Lily Tomlin, and she and Jane Fonda are a riot together — and I have to admit, I kinda have a crush on Bud.

I’ve been reading:


A Wind in the Door, by Madeleine L’Engel. A Wrinkle in Time is my favorite book — and holy shitsnacks, I can’t wait until the movie comes out — but for whatever reason, I’ve never read the rest of the Time Quintet. I figure that there’s no time like the present (see what I did there?) to rectify this problem, so I’m diving right in.


Sacred Contracts, by Carolyn Myss. I’d read Anatomy of the Spirit almost ten years ago, and I thought it was fascinating — but man, applying Jungian principles to the whole thing takes this to a new level. (I, um, happen to think that Carl Jung was The Man. All that and a bag of chips. The bomb diggity. The cat’s pajamas. I don’t know why cats would ever have pajamas. But whatever, I just really love Carl Jung.)

Option B, by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant. I loved Sheryl Sandberg’s original Facebook post about kicking the shit out of option B — she wrote it around the time that my endometrial cancer came back, so it’s been an incredibly helpful concept in the years since. I haven’t gotten very far, and I’m trying to keep from reading 80,000 books at the same time and never finishing any of them (this is one of my worst habits), so this one may take me a while.


Why Is This Flu Season So Deadly? (The Science of Us) Okay, so it’s not exactly uplifting, but please heed this public service announcement to get your flu shots and wash your hands, like, as often as humanly possible. (Please! For the love of god!)

Why Everybody’s Obsessed With Skincare Now (The Cut) I happen to be utterly on board this cultural juggernaut du jour, and this quote summed up exactly why:

“[Skin care makes me] feel like I’m somewhat in control of my own destiny,” Alison Roman, author of what might be Instagram’s favorite cookbook, explained to me. “Every time I put on my Vintner’s Daughter serum I feel like I’m going to sleep extra well and when I wake up I’m going to look really beautiful and my skin’s going to look super glowy. Whether or not that’s true, I have convinced myself that that is a part of me having my shit together.”

Girl, preach.

The 6 Steps of Turning Setbacks into Advantages (New York Times) I want to print this article and hang it over my desk. And get it tattooed on my forehead. Well, okay, not on my face. But maybe on my arm or something. And y’all, that book is so getting added to my reading list! (Which is already, like, miles long. I have a problem.)

Nutella ‘Riots’ Spread Across French Supermarkets (BBC, with a clever pun in the title) The old adage says that everyone has a price, and just so we’re all clear, mine absolutely involves Nutella and I would 100% participate in a riot over this.

But also: cake. Caaaaaaake.

Creepily photobombing the cake. 

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