Happy things with which to end the week (2)

Remember that post last week where I talked about my amazing poutine? Turned out I was back at the mall on Sunday, shopping with a friend who needed an interview outfit, and managed to get it again. Yum. But that has definitely satisfied my poutine craving for the next couple months I think. Unless I happen to be nearby to it again...

I feel like this photo captures its deliciousness even better than last time.

What else do I have to be happy about? Well there are these gluten-free brownies I made last Saturday, and have since eaten. But I definitely enjoyed them while they lasted. Yum. 

Not the best photo, but the taste was worth it.

While I was at the mall, when I wasn't eating poutine, I picked up a few boring things at the dollar store like a potato masher. But I also treated myself to a perfume I've been lusting over for a couple months now. I got the body cream, shimmer cream, and scrub in the scent for Christmas, but I really wanted something stronger and longer lasting. Unfortunately the only size is pretty small, but for $12 I picked up Victoria Secret's Love Spell. It's described as cherry blossom and peach. All I can say is that it smells amazing. As cheesy as the names are, I have fallen in love with it. Definitely worn it a few times already, which you can tell by the slight use of the bottle. Luckily it's a really popular scent because I'm sure I'll be going back for more in the future.

Looking at this picture just makes me want to spray more on. Yum.

I actually also got quite a few goodies in the mail this week of the bookish nature, so I figured I'd share them as well.

Books, books, books!

A pre-order, along with a spontaneous purchase both arrived for me this week, along with two signed books I won on Twitter. Yay Twitter.

I bought Pivot Point by Kasie West when the author was running a pre-order contest with an awesome prize (one option was a manuscript critique) but unfortunately I didn't win. Regardless, I was looking forward to this book, because it reminds me a bit of the movie Sliding Doors and sounds really interesting. In this case the main character spends six weeks in two different realities, which alternate back and forth by chapter, but eventually she has to decide where she really belongs.

The second novel is The Reese Malcolm List by Amy Spalding. I'd been hearing good things about this one for awhile, especially since it was blurbed by one of my favourite YA authors, Courtney Summers. Then I was reading this post on quitting she wrote on Nova Ren Suma's blog, and it just me so much more impressed with her and excited to read her book. Plus, I have only heard amazing things about the publisher, Entangled, and since Book Depository had it for only $6.58 I decided to just order and see for myself. Right now that novel's up a few dollars, but worth keeping an eye because their prices sometimes fluctuate. 

I think she's got such a gorgeous signature actually, really lovely.

Two wonderful signed books courtesy of author Jessica Martinez, who I follow on Twitter, to celebrate the cover reveal of her third novel, The Vow. I only recently read Martinez's first book, Virtuosity, but I really enjoyed her honest contemporary YA and insight into the world of classical violin, so I'm excited to own a copy. She also sent along her second novel, The Space Between Us which is a story about sisters and secrets, and apparently the second half takes place in Canada, which makes it automatically awesome. Now that I own it, I'll definitely have to read it soon. Can't wait! Thanks so much Jessica! 

Combine these goodies with the fact that I finished a draft of my novel, and managed to get a beta back on it in the same week– which didn't totally tear it to shreds– and that's a pretty happy way to end the week. 

Happy reading, happy writing, happy weekend, everyone. 

Friends and French Fries

Maybe using "friends" in the title of this post is over-stating it. I'm actually not a cat person at all, although the hives they give me make me think the feeling's mutual. But this was definitely one of the most adorable sights I saw while traveling, right after arriving at my hostel in Istanbul on the morning of January 6th. Asides from my view from the shuttle on the way from the airport, it was basically my first sight in Turkey and it instantly felt like I was being welcomed. Of course, it wasn't long before the two matching sweethearts ran off together.

I don't celebrate Valentine's Day and I didn't start this year. I won't bother explaining why I think it's silly, but I had a great February 14th all the same. I got the poutine I'd been craving for months– thank you New York Fries for making a gluten-free one– and M bought me a surprise copy of The Hunger Games, and picked up some delicious movie snacks like Smartfood popcorn and Stewart's root beer for me, Old Dutch Baked Ketchup chips and Pepsi for him. We watched the movie together on his still-fairly-new-pretty-impressive TV. It was my third time seeing it, and his second since I dragged him to a premiere showing when it first started. So even though there were no cards and candy and balloon animals, it was a lovely relaxing night. I hope wherever you were, and whatever you were doing, it was a wonderful day. And even thought it's nothing special on the calender, I hope tomorrow is wonderful too.

If this doesn't look delicious to you, I don't think I understand you as a person.

One Hundred

I recently stumbled across fantasy writer Darci Cole's blog, just as she celebrates 100 followers with an awesome flash fiction contest. I'm definitely not experienced with flash fiction, but I thought it would be fun to try a little piece in verse, especially considering the awesome critique prizes! The contest guidelines, found here, require that you use the word one hundred/a hundred/hundredth/etc and that it is 300-500 words, posted on your blog. The prompt is the photo below, followed by my response! Good luck to the other contestants, and I hope you enjoy my entry.

source, author

I’d taken the path

before
on summer days
when sweat tingled
on the backs of my thighs
and popsicles would melt
before even touching
my lips.

Sometimes,
if I was lucky,
he’d come with me.

When he didn’t,
when I walked alone
the cement hills
blurred into each other
like the curves of my hips
where they met
my stomach.

I couldn’t help the acidic wash
that flowed backwards
up my throat
and coated my mouth
with nerves.

But somehow I spoke,
and maybe he would laugh
lean his cheek
against mine
and whisper thoughts
like secrets
into my ear.

I missed you,
he'd say
when his shift at the gas station
gave him time
to walk me to the country club
where I served sandwiches
with perfect corners
to men
with perfectly trimmed beards.

Their facial hair
barely hid their grins
when I bent over to pick up a
lost
fork or spoon.
But they tipped well,
and this job was only a gateway
to college

far away.

He walked me down the path,
and once,
as August crept into being,
he took my hand
and pulled me
from the road
into the grass,
still damp from morning dew.

Careful.

I ran my fingers
over the pressed white fabric
of my uniform,
and he put his hand
over mine.
And I was still.

I’m not
the careful type,
he told me,
and his mouth,
pink as a blush,
pressed itself against mine.

My hand tightened
and then relaxed
as the kiss stretched
the way the sun sets
across the sky
with every inky colour
leaving a goodnight lullaby
for the world.

Once again,
his mouth told me
secrets,
but I didn’t listen
to the way
most of the time
he didn’t have time
for me,
the way his phone
always buzzed
in his pocket
as we kissed.

Afterwards,
I checked my skirt
for grass stains
but I forgot to check
my heart.
Not that I could have
scrubbed away the mark
he’d left.

It was almost,
exactly,
six weeks later–
not that I was counting.
September had come,

and it was less than twelve
more months
until I could leave.

Maybe I didn’t want to.

It must have been
a hundred kisses later,
maybe more.

He walked me to work,
maybe because he knew
I’d have to be the one
who left.

I was wearing white.
Somehow that feels ironic
for how tarnished
I felt
as his mouth left
my lips
only to whisper

goodbye.

When I left work,
as the sunset smeared
across the sky,
I had to remind myself
that I’d taken this path
before.
The bright glare of a car
passed me,
blurred by my tears,
and for a moment
I thought it was him.

It wasn’t.

But the path was familiar,
I’d find my way
home.