Beauty abounds all around,

so I do hope you encounter heaps of it in manifold forms this weekend. Happy Friday, convivial comrades!

The confuddling thang

His ceaseless mercies abound by the day though I am incalculably unworthy. I deeply desire to love God above all things but 'tis so incredibly difficult.

But that is why there exists ultimate comfort and surpassing joy in grace via the gospel from a God who forsakes me not and spurs me on towards Christ the ever worthy goal. Thank you, Lord. You are too good for me. You are too good to me.Jeebies, I love lovely La La Land in pinprick-lit duskand time-honored chums of the dearest sort who never fail to be buckets of encouragement to my soul.Greater things are yet to come. Greater things are still to be done. For with God, nothing is impossible.

Nuts about Nutella

Is there a lad or lady in the land who doesn't fancy the irresistible hazelnut spread?'Cause if there is, golly molly, I shall cordially assume your portion of Nutella-assimilated concoctions, anyday. Er, make that on weekends, 'cause I am earnestly endeavoring to moderate my sugar intake by limiting desserty decadence consumption to weekends (yet another reason I anticipate them so). But 'tis a formidable doozy whence you've homecrafted Nutella cookies in your midst per above. Acquire the recipe on my craft blog here!

An honoree of twenty-three

Though we prowled darkness-deluged Westside thoroughfares with a determined destination in mind,we got ephemerally sidetracked by gleaming grub-granting trucksbefore proceeding to a local lair for Parsa's dignified birthday bash,which emerged abona fide blast for all the lovely ladies and gallant gents.Happiest of birthdays to you, Parsa, you pleasant fellow! Cheers to 23. I do hope you have a most marvelous one!

We observed literary brilliance

at the fondly regarded alma mater this resplendent Saturday pastfor the annually huzzahed literary affair of utmost prestige on North American turf, the LA Times Festival of Books, where many a titillating tale,revered wordsmith,and anecdote-divulging man made an appearance. Whether the storytelling chap was well-received is another story.'Twas a bookish gala brimming with 130,000+ bookworms hailed from all over in bouyant remembrance of the written word, which serves as a concrete detail that though the forms evolve, the appetite for top-notch stories doesn't subside.Ravishing sunbeam abounding day.Weekends are the grandest.

Finally, a finale

to the week. My heart's been a wee bit weary, so I am rather eager to herald in the weekend to play. And sample scores of sweet treats, of course.It shall be brilliant, indeed. Happy Friday, merry mates!

Greenifying to benefit our greenery

'cause our homey globe is just so magnificent with all of its natural creation, thanks to God's breath-stealing creativity and mercy as Creator and Sustainer. And oh my, we've the grand privilege as caretakers of it all.I'm quite partial to greenifying, and one practical earth-friendly (not to mention, more charming, methinks) way to tote munchies on the go is to stuff 'em into old jars rather than in plastic sandwich baggies. Do give it a try sometime!Greenifying is an indubitably beneficial trend, which coalesced with the omniscient LA food truck fad to conceive the solar-powered vegan-parading Green Truck, whose Mother Trucker vegan burger was a savory epicurean delight!Happy Earth Day, genial guys and gals. Enjoy our homey globe today and everyday!

Memorializing minionhood

As an executive assistant, a crucial facet of the daily duties is to act as a deliverer. Deliver him from a cancelled flight before he gets stranded in the likes of Baton Rouge and cannot make evening cocktails with another head honcho back in La La Land. Deliver to him lunch: tuna salad on toasted rye - don't forget the dijon mustard, and iced Evian. Deliver him from incipient business relationship calamities by deterring him from heedlessly divulging his ill-willed feelings to a contact via email lest they use the typed correspondence against him in futurity. Deliver him to a bougie automobile dealership adjacent to a prolific beach community so he can pick up his snazzy ride from meticulous matintenanace (whilst I clutch my steering wheel in fervent prayer that I do not expose him to my predisposed maniacal driving antics for which I am reluctantly infamous). Deliver him from his wife's not-to-be-reckoned-with fury by chucking him out of the office in time for him to catch his daughter's ballet recital. Deliver to him the swag (Vino galore! Prime tickets to awards shows! Weekend golfing getaways!) he receives per diem merely for possessing such clout in the industry.

So 'twas a deviation from the norm when Pete the delivery guy swung by bearing a parcel, and rather than approaching me per usual to sign for it so that I can subsequently deliver it to either Boss 1 or 2, he made a beeline for Boss 1's office instead. "Oh!" I heard Boss 1 remark. "Is that for me?"
A few seconds of tissue paper shuffling later, Boss 1 emerges from his office, stops by my cubicle, and, brandishing the gift bag, says sheepishly, "This is actually for you. Congratulations."Apparently, it slipped Boss 1's noggin that today is the annual Executive Assistants Day. But it's quite all right. After all, he tends to forget a plethora of things. Which is all exceedingly endearing, really. And, fortuitously, each assistant was bestowed a portly parcel as a token of appreciation on behalf of HR. It isn't wine, exclusive Tinseltownian invites, or weekend golfing intermissions (not that I'd fancy 48 hours to swing haphazardly at balls with a metal club anyhow), but 'twas quite benevolent of them to memorialize minionhood.

All of which I felt to a deeper degree upon receiving an e-mail this week from a former internship boss. I'd done a handful of internships in the entertainment industry during the college phase of life, but no internship overseer induces in me an involuntary shudder whence my musings happen to flit on them than when they do with her, the one I deem Tinseltown's Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) from "The Devil Wears Prada." 'Twas at this internship where I promptly learned how to be a legit assistant to an unrelenting terror of an executive, except 'twas all done for free at the expense of my recurrently teary emotional turmoil, concurrent courseload, and other commitments. I wholeheartedly related to Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway), except I acquired neither swoon-worthy frocks nor a Parisian jaunt. But that is a cinematic story, and this is life. Now that I reminisce upon it, I truly see how God worked it all together for good. 'Twas a much-needed lesson in humility, patience, and servanthood. Furthermore, I am so very thankful for the bosses I'm blessed with now (even if they're a tad goofy at times), and that I am at that entertainment establishment no longer.

But my aforementioned Miranda Priestly-esque boss isn't either. The reason for her e-mail this week was to disclose to all of her contacts that she's ascended a rung on Hollywood's corporate ladder in procuring a new and improved gig as a senior level executive. At the studio where I currently work.

I had gawked at the e-mail in utter disbelief. I knew not whether to burst into laughter or tears (I suppose I'll find out if ever I bump into her on the lot). God is SO hilarious.

Golly molly, I am so thankful entertainment assistantship is but one season of my life, Lord-willing, and that my identity is grounded in Christ, not an occupation (or anythang else of the world, for that matter). God has good and perfect plans, and though 'tis been one kookily marvelous adventure thus far, I am all ajitter with excitement at what is forthcoming.

Lo, I am covering for another assistant's bossman, and he just gave me a jingle 'cause attaching a document to an email is too enigmatic of a task. I must jet to impart my know-how.

Happy Executive Assistants Day!!!

Some doggone good-ies

I've a colossal sweet tooth, so 'tis a no-brainer to oft succumb to a bout of baking. This weekend past was no different. Except this time I dabbled in baking for nonhuman creatures. Specifically, I endeavored to craft homemade pawprinted dog biscuits, which resulted in some doggone good-ies!I utilized ingredients already handy in my cookery stash:whole wheat flour, all natural peanut butter, skim milk, and baking powder. Obtain the recipe on my craft blog here. (I stumbled upon alternative dog biscuit recipes that called for canola oil, cornmeal, and the likes of psuedo pooch poison, so I'm pleased to have chanced upon a healthified and dog-esteemed option).Homemade treats fare better whence settled in handcrafted packaging - a humble brown paper bag sewn shut and tied with a jaunty feedsack repro fabric bow atop a scrawled manila tag.Though the biscuits are primarily for canine chums, they're people-friendly, too. However, I must confess that after tentatively sampling a bite (after all, they're all-natural!), I'm so very thankful I'm a human speciman who can indulge in sugar-injected confections. Like cupcakes.

'Tis always a chipper weekend

when I'm availed the fortuity to frequent the flea.You know you're deemed a faithful patronwhence an affable vendor remarks in his dashing French accent,"Why, hi! You're early this time!"Oh my!But 'twas a jackpot juncture per usual,as I exuberantly lugged away a score of time-honored treasuresto further spiffify the LAbode (perhaps to be showcased in a forthcoming time). I do hope your weekend was replete with pleasantries, too!

Doesn't glimpsing variegated forestry

tempt you to halt and entertain notions of stretching out beneath leafy branches for an idyllic whimsy-saturated picnicking interlude?'Cause that's exactly what flits and flutters about in my noggin.

Buckets of thanks for the all too lovely comments about this monoblog's refurbishment! I've given my crafty blog, Sheer Whimsy, a teeny face-lift, too, so mosey on over to gander, if you please. Happy weekending, guys and dolls!

'Cause we probably can't do this

when we're seasoned middle-aged womenfolk:Current early 20s-hood is pretty peachy to us. Sure, this'd be considerably more fitting if we were, say, prepubescent 11 year young'ns, but it isn't everyday that a bona fide princess genially defers her royal duties to call on the roommate and me!

Oh, and yes, sirs and madams, I've revamped this monoblog. Hopefully navigation proves more effortless and the aesthetic factor's up a few notches. Feedback much appreciated!

A most pleasant springtime perk

is donning frothy frocks and vivid hued shoes in which to prance and play beneath iridescent sunbeams.Wouldn't you agree?

Sunday fun days

of the sober sort commenced with wee canapés - delicate smoked salmon and cream cheesiness on thin crackers, and dainty caprese skewers. I'm moved to thank the Campanian prodigy who contrived the irresistibly fresh and tasty insalata caprese concoction of sugar plum tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella, and fresh basil. I'd the notion they'd be more tantalizing on skewers per below (before they were deftly drizzled with balsamic vinegar, extra virgin olive oil, sea salt, and black pepper). Thence we indulged in white 5-cheese chicken lasagna heartiness, and concluded the homemade cookery headliners with multi-layered tiramisu, which I exultantly ascertained is not as daunting of an epicurean feat as I had presumed! Yum-oh.Bushels of thanks to all the dear damsels and gallant gents who popped in for Sober Sunday!!!Following snapshot courtesy of Steph.Though it gladdens the dear roommate's and my hearts exponentially to have friendly folks over in such a manner on a biweekly basis, especially whence they allocate time to come from lands near and far, I'm disheartened to disclose that the forecast for subsequent Sober Sundays is looking a smidgen dire. Mass dinner partying shall be on hiatus for a spell, partly 'cause though 'twas ne'er my intention, I've thoroughly vexed our neighbor with our communal revelry o'er the months. More than thrice. To the point where he gave the LAPD a jingle to file a formal complaint. Twice. And our landlord foreshadowed our eviction if such ruckus were to persevere. I ought to just beckon them to attend the following Sober Sunday so y'all can win 'em over with your winsome charm.

But really, we don't want to exacerbate our tenant standing to teetering precariously off the brink of getting booted out. I must learn to love my neighbors (literally). Lord, please help. Good thing all things work together for good.

Sigh. There goes practicing hospitality.

At least for the time being.