Gift Ideas for the plant lovers and green thumbs in your life (from a variety of price points)!Plant Care Journal | $12A journal for tracking plant care tactics and characteristics of each little botanical child. From CarlyCreationsStudio on Etsy. Vintage Inspired Glass Water Mister | $18These misters offer a cute vintage look for a gardening/plant care essential. From GardenOutsideTheBox on Etsy. Nostalgic Botanical Art Prints | $20-30 Art by Chamoru artist Art By Ciara! These beautiful pieces are perfect for lovers of plants and food. Botanica Tarot Deck | $40An absolutely stunning tarot deck featuring art from independent artist Kevin Jay Stanton. Matte Black Iron Watering Can | $65REMEMBER: Shop small whenever you can! -L
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Here’s an odd confession: my first time trying Korean food was at a nice Korean BBQ place with my friend Katherine. In Kochi, India. I know what you’re thinking: “Who? What? Why? How? The answers: My friend Katherine, whom I studied abroad with, and I were overwhelmed by the wealth of food options that were available to us and thought, why wait until we can visit Korea to enjoy Korean cuisine? That was back in 2017 and though I initially thought it to be strange, I have now come to think of this as just a really cool fact and testament to the ways in which food and food trends travel and expand around the globe. So, when visiting family in Orlando this weekend, I decided to spend some time with my older sister and check out one of the many restaurants on our never-ending list of local food spots. Together, we decided on Shin Jung Korean Restaurant. For those of you familiar with neighborhoods in Central Florida, Shin Jung is located on the outskirts of the Mills 50 District, an area known for a wealth of small retailers and restaurants, as well as a lot of AAPI-owned businesses. It’s one of my favorite spots in the city to shop local, spend the day with friends, and enjoy some of the absolutely phenomenal murals done by Orlando artists. The Mills 50 District tends to be a pretty popular spot, especially on weekends, so I definitely recommend planning accordingly. My sister, Kris, and I decided to go for lunch around 2:30 PM in an attempt to beat the lunch and dinner rush and I think our planning was spot on. There were a decent number of parties in the main dining area, but plenty of outdoor seating for those who weren’t interested in using the grill for the full BBQ experience. Shin Jung boasts a dining room that appears very modern, with lots of white, those boujee flower and plant walls, and minimalistic decoration.They recently went through an extensive re-model and just started offering dine-in options again. Don’t let the fresh atmosphere fool you, this restaurant is one of the original Korean restaurants in the city and has been serving a full menu of traditional food longer than I have been breathing (they first opened their doors in 1993). Ok, consider the scene set; I have appeased the lifestyle blogging deities with my little background story and introduction. Let’s get into the menu. Overall, Shin Jung hosts a pretty extensive menu, including soups, rice dishes, a very nice assortment of soju, and (of course) barbecue. While 2:30 PM on a Saturday is a perfectly acceptable time to be under 30 and day drunk, Kris and I decided to skip the soju menu and try some less “adult” beverages. She went for the classic rice nectar while I sipped on the ginger cinnamon punch. While the rice nectar was good, it definitely took a little getting used to. We both gave the ginger cinnamon punch a refreshingly spicy 5-stars. A lot of the menu items caught our eyes, especially since there were vegan and vegetarian options available as well. Though neither of us are vegetarians, I’m allergic to shellfish and neither of us really eat red meat. Still, there was so much for us to choose from (including vegetarian/vegan kimchi options, which I was excited about)! We decided to go pretty simple and ordered the spicy chicken and assorted vegetables for the grill. All of the grill items come with your usual array of side dishes and we were able to sample both cabbage and daikon kimchi, pickled red onions (personally, I can eat spoonfuls of this stuff), potatoes, white rice, a few other pickled veggies, and side salads. There’s something about the way that I present myself in restaurants that just screams out to staff that I need help at all times. I have yet to figure out exactly what part of my demeanor betrays me (my bet is on the perpetual social awkwardness), so I usually just roll with it. In this case, “rolling with it” meant accepting the assistance of our lovely server, who insisted on helping us place everything on the grill and consistently checking to make sure that we didn’t burn our spicy chicken to a crisp. In the end, Kris and I took turns successfully manning the grill and did a pretty good job of it. The result was one of the best meals I’ve had in a very long time. The assortment of vegetables was great, and really complemented the chicken, which was advertised as “spicy chicken” but was more like a really nicely spiced chicken. If you’re looking for heat, definitely make sure to be liberal with sauces. A few specifics before I get carried away:
Here's the bottom line: Shin Jung Korean BBQ is an incredible local restaurant that has been serving up authentic and reimagined Korean fare for almost three decades. It’s a true Central Florida gem; They know what they’re doing, I wish them the best in doing it, and I’ll be back... 👀 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Gwyn whispered, "I am the rock against which the surf crashes.” Nesta straightened at the words, as if they were a prayer and a summons. Gwyn lifted the blade. “Nothing can break me.”
A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas
My rating: 3 of 5 stars This review contains HEAVY SPOILERS and also addresses mental health and PTSD. If you are here for smut, you're gonna have an okay time. If you are here to see an author discuss the intricacies of PTSD that are often left out in novels with heavy themes of war and violence, you're gonna have the worst day ever. Great Things: 1. Nesta : Nesta is an AMAZING character. She is way more complex and relatable than Feyre. So I was beyond upset that SJM took this amazing character and made her out to be the devil, the evil queen, the one to hate. At the start of this book, I had hope that the author was going to dig into the idea of women's mental health and how it is often not taken seriously. When I say I was so excited that Nesta was getting her own book, I genuinely was excited because it was obvious that homegirl was struggling throughout the last two books and that there was a complex and harrowing tale to be told with her at the center. Anyways-- #NestaDeserved Better 2. Thanks for the smut. 3. I know it's corny, but I love a female friendship aspect in books like this. I actually enjoyed seeing three girls have a spa night in the middle of this book. It was refreshing to see healthy bonds between women. Alexa, play "Girl Power" by the Cheetah Girls Terrible Things 1. I'm not done with my Nesta rant. It was so painful, disheartening, frustrating to watch literally every character, other than Gwen or Emerie, hound on Nesta and tell her how terrible she was for HAVING STEADILY DETERIORATING MENTAL HEALTH. FOR HAVING PTSD. You're telling me these schlong slanging, pointy-eared fairy a-holes are mad at her for not being immune to the traumatizing nature of war? I'm not even exaggerating when I say that every time Nesta walked into a room, at least one person in the Night Courts little found-family of jerks had to tell her what an utter waste of space she was. They claimed to care about Nesta (except Rhys who was like "nah, i hate Nesta cuz she's an inconvenience to me and calls me out on my bullsh*t) and then they blame her for being depressed and anxious and traumatized. This is my biggest disappointment of this entire book: that we are, right now as a society and in our various communities, starting to talk about mental health and address its intricacies and yet SJM writes this book. This book about a young woman who has gone through so much trauma and yet the only people who are able to talk to her like she is a human and explain to her (truly push her towards acceptance) are other women who have been broken and scarred as well. Even Ryhsand (who we all know invented feminism)-- you know what. He gets his own section. 2. Rhysand is the actual worst. I hate that SJM tries to pass him off as a strong, cunning, beautiful, passionate man because he is emotionally manipulative and abusive not only to Feyre but to everyone in his life who prevents him from doing what he wants at all times. He threatens to kill Nesta for telling Feyre the truth about her own body. He keeps the "you have the power to literally make godly objects" thing from her. He hates that Nesta makes him look bad more than he hates that she is struggling. I hate him with a passion because I've had Rhysands in my life and I know that no matter what, people will continue to see him as a good guy even though every action he makes is a selfish one. The fact that Nesta had to give up her power to save him because he and her sister have fairy dust for brains enrages me. 3. I hate the "male" "female" thing. It makes my skin crawl. 4. Nesta literally changing her physical anatomy so she can push out Cassian's winged babies one day made me want to vomit. 5.The ending battle with homegirl the crone queen was the most anti-climactic thing. I forgot about her so many times while reading this book. I was like "oh, hey" when she popped up. The battle lasted two minutes. Snore. Anyway. I'm giving it 3 stars because Sarah J. Maas owns my a** and deep down, I love a good trainwreck. (also, smut) View all my reviews
Bonus: My thoughts on the fact that Mor's family is homophobic af:
or "one day I won't be too afraid to search for my shadow" They taught me how to seize the Day before they taught me how to greet it and now waking up in the morning feels like preparing for battle. In kickboxing class I learned to never turn your back on your opponent. My future and I faced each other, locked gazes, under-eye baggage and all-- All bruised knuckles and dodged punches. I didn't expect easy loving or longingly lovely Jane Austen gazes from across the room but I really hope we can grow to be one of those angsty YA enemies-to-lovers stories I pretend to hate. I refuse to believe that my only options are risking a fat lip or running away and hoping time won't catch up to me. I want to breathe deep without the bitter taste of wasted potential. I want to watch the sunrise and not think I'm wasting my time. I want to walk peacefully between who I am and who I was and who I hope I get the chance to be. The other day I woke and thought, plainly to myself: I'm glad I got to meet Today. I have a feeling the two of us could get along quite nicely. I turned 23 the other day and it was strange. I have never been big on birthdays because they always felt kind of...vain? Anyways, a few years ago, I had a friend tell me that I should always celebrate things like birthdays and anniversaries and that they love any opportunity to celebrate the fact that I just exist. It's weird to have someone tell you that they're glad you're here and are excited about your general existence. I guess, I've never been one to celebrate anything about myself, unless others expect it of me. I've also never been good at goals and stuff. Possibly because every time I made a goal I lived in constant and debilitating fear of never reaching it. Possibly because I'm lazy.
When I was in high school, I started planning these things called "little futures." They were really just planned activities, not really complicated or anything. It could be that on Friday night, I'm gonna take a really hot shower and watch half a season of Merlin. And, whenever life got hectic or I got unsure or fell into a seemingly endless hole of anxiety about how my presence on Earth means very little and probably will always mean very little to pretty much everyone, I would stop and think: yeah, but at least on Friday I get to lay in bed for four hours and watch Arthur Pendragon be an asshole. And that's what did it for me; that's what got me through. I kinda stopped doing this in college but, especially in these desperate and seemingly endless days of plague, I think I'm gonna pick this thing up again. I mean, I've written tons about my complicated relationship to the idea of "the future" but I have rarely talked about how I cope with that fear of the endless nothing and void of possibility that exists in all things at all times. 23 is not a glamorous year but at this point, I don't particularly give a shit. Imma roll with 23. I'm gonna re-watch Merlin and take hot baths on Friday nights. It's not like there are more exciting things to do in ~these unprecedented times~ or anything. We have so few hours on this earth (literally! The whole place is actually going up in flames! Revolutions are knocking every five to six hours and the devil shows his face regularly on the TV screen!) so why not cut some of that big picture crap and make a few little futures for yourself. I have absolutely no fucking clue if or when our government will listen to the screams of its people and I'll continue to do my part to put some stress on the heartless motherfuckers but at least on Friday I get to take a shower so hot the spirits of everyone who died in blazing agony in Pompei all those years ago start to sweat, and I get to watch some absolutely spectacular and under-appreciated 2010s fantasy TV. Parking Lot Palm Reading This is your life line. It is long, though you can’t seem to picture it. From a young age, you were convinced you would die at a young age. The thought of fragile bones and silver hair turns your stomach sour. You have always been a seeker of wisdom but never willing to give it your years. Always the grandson and never grandfather—old soul, chasing youth. This is your love line. It’s there, I promise. Starting strong at your mother’s cord. Thinner now but growing later. This branch here is your first lover. You still feel the pain of the breaking, the retreat back to trunk and roots and ever-firm ground. Can you recall the exact moment you convinced yourself that tears didn’t complement the shape of your cheekbones? If only you knew how many of our hands are scarred with broken branches that just couldn’t hold up the weight of our hearts. This here is your head line. You seem to have a million good ideas that you’ve convinced yourself aren’t worth the ten bucks you paid for last night’s 12-pack . To be quite honest, most of them aren’t. But there’s that one that lives near your nape on the right side that could be the one if you’d just risk it. Shit, that one is worth a lot more than the hot air of your father’s appraisal. You lie awake at night as its potential cuts deep into your flesh. Do not let it whittle away at you. And this one is your fate line. Why do you run from this life you have made for yourself? Why can’t you acknowledge the worth to be found in its humble imperfection. The ceiling of your studio apartment leaks when the rains get rough. You tell your mother about it on the phone. She asks why you don’t get it fixed or tell the landlord and you are ashamed to tell her that fixing it would bring you somewhere too close to too-good-to-be-true and what the fuck did you do to deserve that? So you put out a bucket and let the dripping be your lullaby. You’ve written lyrics. They go: “Trading your good for the chance to be better Is more of a gamble than I think it should be. But there’s got to be something else other than this thing Cuz that’s what they all say on morning TV…” -L.V.Morton
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LorinaI just want to write poetry and make pretty things. Archives
November 2022
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