February Favorites

So for February, my favorite month--my birthday month!--I thought I'd list a few of my five favorite things.

{Golden Harley Swarovski crystal earrings I splurged on at the Day-After-Christmas-sale. They go with everything and they're so darn sparkly!}

{Purple wild flowers in my favorite purple antique vase from a thrift store in Eureka, Ca}

{Home made coffee concentrate for iced coffee! In a Straus Family Creamery milk jug}

{Q-Tips in a funky wine goblet my mother gave to me}

{Re-reading the Book Thief by Markus Zusak. I think I'll go cry quietly by myself for the rest of the day, because OH MY LOD....this book is so good.}

Champagne Cake Recipe!

I love birthdays, and baking, and frosting, and pink things, and sparkly gold stuff, and everything yellow.

So every year when I get to make my own birthday cake and put all of those things into one big fluffy, sugary creation....I get a little excited. 

Behold. My master piece. 

{Pink Champagne cake (you can't really go wrong when you add alcohol to cake...), with raspberries and white chocolate-champagne butter cream.}

{ I loved how the colors came out. }

The only down side to having moved around so much the last couple of years is that my friends are spread out all over the world, and I couldn't have all the people i love in one room for my birthday. I DID get tons of wonderful emails and phone calls (And even a text message sent from Cuba!) wishing me a happy birthday, and that made me beyond happy.  And big thank you to all my friends who DID make it to my house to celebrate I appreciate you guys so much and am so lucky! Now come back... there's still half a cake and about 20 beers in my fridge!

So the thing that drove me absolutely crazy about this cake was finding a recipe I liked. For some crazy ridiculous  cheating, reason all of the recipes I found online called for a boxed cake mix. Um excuse me? That's not....we don't....I can't.....so many feelings. Boxed cake mixes are fine and all....if you're not trying to make a cake from scratch.  So I kind of created my own recipe with help from here for my own take on a classic-American cake. 

{the cake}

{ 4 cups all purpose flour

2 1/4 cup white sugar

1 cup butter

1 tbl spoon and 1-1/2 tsp baking powder

1- 1/2 tsp salt

1-1/2 cup champagne. 

9 egg whites }

This make 3, 10 in cake rounds. But it doesn't rise much, so if you're making a layer cake and you don't want three layers, you can fit all the batter in 2 rounds.  This also makes a LOT of cake.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Cream together butter and sugar.  Mix in dry indigence and champagne alternately. At this point add in food coloring.  In a separate bowl whip egg whites until they peak. Fold peaked egg whites and batter together.

Butter and flour pans and pour in batter.

Bake for about 30 minutes.

That easy.

After it bakes let it cool, then completely wrap the layers in plastic and put in the freezer for about 10 minutes. This will make it easier to frost or shape without crumbling.

{the frosting}

{2 cups butter

9 cups powdered sugar

1/3 cup champagne

1/2 cup white chocolate chips, melted

food coloring of choice}

Mix it all together. It the texture isn't how you like it, add more powdered sugar. The amount of frosting you'll need will vary depending on how you frost your cake, how many layer you want, and if you 'dirty ice' it.

{assembly}

For my cake I actually cut the layers down from 10 in rounds to 8 in rounds by stacking them on top of each other and just cutting out the middle. The left over cake can be used for cake pops if you're feeling ambitious.

Put the first layer of cake on your stand and generously ice the top, adding raspberries. Set the next layer on top and gently press down. Repeat for the next layer(s), then put the cake in the fridge again for a few minutes.

Next 'dirty ice' your cake, and follow this guide for how to do the petal effect on the outer icing. I just used the back of a spoon instead of an spatula. Add some home made cute cake toppers and, voila!!!

 

Enjoy! 

You know that feeling when you can’t stand anyone or anything around you. When you’re sitting at home, alone, scrolling through hours on the internet because the thought of doing anything else just seems too benign to consider.  When you think you should call someone and do something; but you realize you wouldn't know who to call or what to do. And you’re not depressed about it. It’s not a depressing thought. It’s just the truth. What would you do? And who would you do it with? And what, really, is better than laughing at memes and drinking coffee, and sitting in a cozy sweater?  Besides maybe doing all of that in bed…with cookies.

You know that feeling when you've decided you like who you are, but you’re not sure if anyone else noticed. Not that they didn't notice you, physically, but they didn't notice your decision to like yourself.  I guess it would be weird if they did. But I never thought that deciding I don’t need to fit in would get kind of lonely.  Not lonely, like, I’m sitting in blankets and crying because I have no friends lonely. And not lonely like kid from Perks of Being a Wallflower, lonely. But Lonely like, damn I wish that one person I spent that large amount of my life with were here to sit and do nothing with me. Lonely for just the presence of your kindred spirits, who also have decided to like who they are—and like who you are. And maybe they noticed that you like eating cookies in bed, and being yourself.

Sometimes when I look at some of the people I used to spend exorbitant  amounts of time with—they just made me feel left out all the time, like I wasn't getting the inside joke even though I was there for it—I think why was I wasting my time with this? With feeling like I was small and irrelevant, when I could have been sitting at home and drinking coffee, laughing at memes in a cozy sweater.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still like all these people. But they never noticed I decided to like who I am, probably because they never noticed who I am. They’ good people, but they’re the people I call up because I feel like I should call someone, and do something, but they don’t understand why I would want to do any of the things I want to do. 

So you know the feeling after a few of those conversations where you call someone to do something, and they don’t like your answers, so you stop calling them? And you’re sitting at home on the internet in your favorite sweater, and thinking about how much you can’t stand anyone or anything…probably because you’re just kind of lonely for someone you love to be sitting across the table from you and using your coffee to dunk their cookies in while neither of you talk.

Because Today the Monkeys are Breaking out of the Zoo

So my mom called me this Monday morning, which happened to be a holiday, and woke me up by telling me she and my dad were on their way to get me, and that we were going to the zoo.

Oh no worries Mom, not like I had plans....





Ok I did not have plans.


I also love the zoo.

I feel like this Polar Bear likes the zoo too. Here he is having a nice picnic lunch while enjoying the view of Balboa park from his rock.

 

I love the flamingos.  They smell terrible, but the colors are kind of amazing.

I was really excited to see the gorillas.  They're so huge, and furry, and wonderful.  I don't understand how anyone can look into their eyes and not see something beautiful. Unfortunately the glass wasn't really a great medium to take pictures through, but I kind of like how these turned out. It kind of feels like they're from inside of the enclosure looking out at the people.

 I thought this one turned out really neat too. The little girl in the bottom had her hand on the glass like she was trying to give him a high five.  It was really adorable.

Last but obviously not least, is the Orangutan. A combination of two of my least favorite things-- jowls and red hair. But for some reason, I just want to take him home with me....even though I'm pretty sure he would crush my skull. 

Lessons From Dad

My Dad likes to remind me that not everyone is lucky enough to have best friends.

When I was little and would get picked on by my class mates (because I have always been little, and never been great at confrontation) he would remind me that life is long, and sometimes the people we think are important at one moment will be inconsequential in the scheme of things. He didn't try and tell me "a reason, a season, a life time" because my Dad doesn't bull shit around like that. He simply told me sometimes people aren't what you think they are, but if you are lucky you will meet people who will not only understand you, but they will make you happy that you are yourself.

Then he bought a punch bag and tried to teach me how to deal with confrontation.

Sometimes when I'm having a terrible day I remember the things like this that my Dad taught me in order to get through it.

Ultimately I am lucky to have amazing people in my life; amazing friends who love me for who I am. And instead of just having one or two people like this, I have managed to accumulate them around me as I get older.

But also it is good to remember that sometimes punching things really does make you feel better.

Thanks Dad!

MTS moves me!

So I sold my car when I left for Copenhagen, and for the following year relied whole heatedly on bicycle power and public transportation-- only to move back to San Diego in June, still car-less, and realize the absolute horror of California's public transportation system.  But, to be fair, not every day of riding the bus and trolley is an absolute horror....and not every day of riding public transit in CPH was gumdrops and sunshine.

So below are a few short stories of things that have happened to me on public transit since I sold my car. But can you guess what happened where?

1. I was sitting on the bus and the homeless man at the front dropped his coffee on the floor. I didn't notice until I smelled it and looked over for source of synthetic vanilla and fragrant coffee. The passengers on one side of the bus had their feet drawn up to the seats, avoiding the stream of hot liquid splashed across the floor. The homeless man sat with his elbows on his knees, looking down emptily as his paper cup that rolled from between his feet into the quickly spreading brown puddle. I wanted to help, but I just sat there. And so did everyone else.
   
2. It was standing room only, except for the lone, gangling  black man, who danced with the freedom and fluidity of a underground rave, singing loudly out of tune with the human ear. He wore ratty jeans, and new shoes.
   
3. The teenager swayed drunkenly, eyes half closed and face slack. He reached into his pocket producing a pack of cigarettes. He stuck on into his mouth, missing at first, then finally managing. A lighter struck from no where and he was suddenly smoking in the confined, moving vehicle. Everyone staring in a momentary stunned horror.
   
4. The bus driver hit the horn hard, three quick, sequential honks; as if he was waving at the two girls waiting for him at the stop, which he blew passed without a second thought. Leaving them yelling and waving their arms.
   
5. There was no room to sit, every bench filled with sports fans adorned in their bright team colors. I stood awkwardly, balancing a heavy purse and travel bag between my knees and tried to reach in vain for the handle strap above my head. Teasing me by being centimeters away from my out stretched  fingers. Oh the trials of being short. A tap on my shoulder and a man was offering me his seat, trading places with me and easily holding on to the strap as we move with a jolt.
   
6. I got on the bus and smiled a hello to the driver, before I could walk past and take my place he stopped me and professed 'You just know exactly how to wait for the bus. You waited for the bus so well.' I awkwardly thanked him, and sat down-- awash in absolute confusion, but an underlining sense of preschool-esque pride. Yeah, I do know how to wait for the bus. That's right I do.
   
7. I stood just out side the bus doors and leaned in far enough to ask the driver, do you stop at....He replied 'I am not a taxi' and shut the doors in my face. Splashing me with gutter water as he pulled away from the stop.

So What happened where?!

Welll....7. Copenhagen 6. Copenhagen 5. San Diego 4. San Diego 3. Copenhagen 2. Copenhagen 1. San Diego

Granted, those are four of the only stories I can remember from the 10 months I lived in Denmark (and ones that wouldn't give away that it was a different country), and three of the many stories I have from riding San Diego transportation for about three months. Oh the joys of being car-less.  Anyone else have any wonderfully memorable stories of public transit? I'm sure you can one-up me easily.

Some Favorite Things

I just moved into a new town house (well, a room in a town house shared with three other students). It's really nice to have some of my things around me again-- old and new. While obviously things are not what is most important in life, it's hard to deny the fact that sometimes its these things are what make us feel comfortable and cozy (hygge!). Like drinking out of your favorite coffee cup, or the memories behind a random idem that makes you smile, or laugh, or shake your head. Or your favorite pair of shoes, favorite earrings. A framed post card.

So I thought I'd share with you a few of the things that make me feel cozy, and happy.

Like iced Illy coffee in black in Pernille Vea mugs. Typical Scandinavian design, they (in combination with caffeine) help me welcome the morning with a lot more pep than I can usually muster. I bought them on sale in Copenhagen, and they definitely weighted like a brick in my suitcase. Totally worth it.

When Kai and I first moved into an apartment in San Diego we some how started collecting religious candles and other icons. As far as collections go, at least these are only about 99 cents at the grocery store. Traditionally they are lit as a prayer to the Saint depicted on them, or as a tribute to dead relatives. I light mine and remember how Kai and I used to confuse people with our massive collection, along with several large crucifixes and a Buddha statue (thrown in for good measure). Personally, I love how bright and colorful they are, even if it's really random.

When I moved, we split up the collection. I drew the short straw and ended up with Pope John Paul II. He wont stop staring at me.

 This is Pierre. I bought him for three dollars at the Danish equivalent of the dollar tree, Tiger, and he serves me well. Note the high lighter stains near his tighty white-ies. I especially love his untamed armpit hair and his hung-over creepy-uncle five-o-clock shadow.

Last but not least, photos of my Grandma and Grandpa from around the age they met. They celebrated their 51st anniversary this year, and I can only hope some day I will find someone who will want to put up with me for that long without a committing murder/suicide.


So those are some of the things that make me happy. What are some of the things around your house or room that give you warm fuzzy feelings?


xoxo

Leanderthal

A little of this and that

So I've been meaning to update since I got back to the US.

That was two months ago (almost....)

Many some of you are probably wondering....what on earth have you been doing in all that time?

Did you get a job?

A car?

Start school?

Watch season two of Game of Thrones yet?!

Write ground breaking blog updates and finally finishing your travel posts?!



Nope.

No, see while I could have been doing all of these life-improving things and bettering myself, or at least being productive, I have found a myrid of other-- more relaxing things--to waste my time on.

For example:


I did this.

Which included this....

this...

And this...

(10000x points to Huffelpuff if you can name who all of those people are...)

(actually...an additional 10000x to all houses because I love people cosplay.)

I also drank a few of these...

And ate some of these...

spent some quality time here....

And here....

And stared at this.

Oh! and this!

I did also move into a new apartment, which I will eventually post about soon too, because its quite lovely to have my own place. School starts in about a week, so until then I'll be working on all those important like things I haven't gotten to yet laying at the pool!

Love you all my little butternut muffin cakes!

Leanderthal

Back in America

Well boys and girls, I'm back home in sunny San Diego (or...Oceanside/Vista area if you're going to be particular).

And it is sunny. And really hot. And really lovely as well.

Don't get me wrong, I'm ready to hop back on a plane for however many hours it takes, and be back in Copenhagen. Tomorrow.Or right now? I don't have to pack...I could be ready to go in three seconds if you want to buy me a ticket. Please? Anyone? Sigh. Some day my real parents, the King and Queen of a vast and very rich empire, will come back and tell me that I have a huge inheritance to collect on.

But really, it is nice to be back. It's fabulous to see all of my friends down here, hang out in my old haunts, and spend quality time with the family. It feels a lot like I never left.

Except that the toilets here are weird.

And the light switches are upside down....

and I keep trying to get my plug adapter every time I want to charge my laptop battery.

Oh and then on the 4th of July everyone drank beer and wore American flags and there were fireworks. I love this country. I feel like having a 4th of July party right after I got home was an excellent way to welcome myself back to the US of A.  There was also the giant marshmallow fight on Ocean Beach that was so typical San Diego I could have died of happiness. And I spent the time with such great friends, and great booze, and great sunshine!

As much as I whine and moan (or will wine and moan in the coming months) about not being in Europe right now, I have a ridiculous amount of things to look forward to in the next few weeks. Apartment hunting, job hunting, transfer student counselling hunting, the perfect California Burrito hunting, all these lovely things are going on in my life, and it is really exhausting exciting to be diving back into it all.

I will eventually finish posting about my Italy trip. I have lots of pictures that I would love to share.

For now I guess that's all, but I wanted to drop a little something here to let everyone know I'm alive, and will continue attempting to update this blog.

I miss all my friends and family in Copenhagen, and think of you everyday!


Until next time,
Leanderthal

Firenze

So my second stop in Italy wasss.....

Also known as Florence!

Yeah, I know, I didn't know if I would ever get around to finish talking about my trip either.  But listen, I've been distracted by the many big things going on in my life....my impending move from Denmark, packing, working, watching Daily Grace youtube videos, writing other, more interesting blog posts, and finding any excuse I can not to be consistent.

But I'm back to hitting they keys for this sorry excuse at rather half assed, almost, but not really, travel blogging.  I was once motivate...what happened to that?

We (see Rome post about my lovely Canadian travel companions) arrived in Florence at 11:00 at night to find...our hostel was closed. Yup. Apparently someone (who was that??) didn't read the booking information as clearly as she should have (yeah it was me) and didn't realize that the hostel check in hours were between 9:00am and Noon. What kind of place only has a three hour time slot for check in? Italian places, that's where.

View from Piazzale Michelangelo

Luckily one of the other guests heard us frantically buzzing at the door and came down to let us up. Thank you kind stranger! The hostel itself was actually nice, it was more like a big apartment. It even had a washer and dryer, toilets that flushed most the time, and slightly more shower pressure. It also had a nice little balcony where you could dry your clothes, or be crushed by falling roof tiles. 

We spent our first full day in Florence seeing everything the city had to offer. Which honestly, took about four hours, and then we couldn't quiet figure out what to do with ourselves (um...drink).

We started out walk off at the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, which was absolutely stunning and ginormous.  Made out of green and pink marble it was totally unlike any of the other churches we'd seen thus far, and the murals on the inside were incredible.
After walking around the Basilica for a while, we walked through the tiny little Florence streets and passed all the crowded expensive museums and copies of the statue of David. I have a confession to make again. We didn't see the statue of David. I know, it's probably worse than the fact that I didn't go inside the collisuium.  But we only had so much time, and the lines were so long, and there were replicas of the stature right out side....so that makes it ok. And the picture at the top of this entry of David, belongs to M, who I hope doesn't get too mad at me for collageing it. You took it 'illegally' anyway! I mean...I love you, thank you!

We then walked across the sparkly-jewelry-store-lined Ponte Vecchio, and walked up the 702,854,599,546,568 steps to the Piazzale Michelangelo.  The  702,854,599,546,568 (this might be an exaggeration...) were  absolutely worth the stunning view we receive a few hours before sunset. It was really a wonderful day, which unfortunately, I didn't photograph very well. One of my favorite things about the city were the tiny winding streets, who's name's changed half way through, and the alters that popped up every very blocks, built into the side of buildings. Little chubby baby Jesus and flowers decorated random corner, with the holy mother, candles, and absolute quaintness. 


Naturally, we concluded our evening at a wine bar.
Which is how I think every great day should, really, end.

Amen,
Leanderthal.