Saturday I'm in Love...with The Pierces.

Yesterday I was a very busy bee.
You'd think that having listened to that song all week, making a post about it wouldn't have slipped my mind.
Well it did.

Even though The Cure never sang about Saturday I'm in Love, which kind of cancels the musical reference of this post's title (Look at me!I'm a cool rock chick!I love Robert Smith!) I decided to go ahead anyway and write the post one day later.
I wouldn't want to disappoint my fans out there, waiting impatiently to be told what to listen to.
Ha !

So, before I get to the song, I have to make a shameful confession.
I'm a closeted Gossip Girl fan.
The city, the beautiful clothes, the shiny hair, the drama...I love it.
Actually, I loved it long before it was a successful TV show.
Yup, to add insult to injury, I also read the books.
I remember how excited I would get as a teen whenever a new one would come out.
For about 200 pages, I could identify with the characters (well, maybe not too much either.They ARE pretty slutty) and transport myself to The Upper East Side.
Hell, I day dreamt so much about the place that I could prolly find my way there blindfolded.

But anyways.
The only reason I get Mr K. to watch it with me is because the soundtrack is actually quite good.
It's actually pretty funny to imagine the music connoisseur putting together each episode's playlist.
I guess it's safe to say that he/she probably doesn't care much about wether Chuck and Blair are FINALLY gonna get back together or not and more about who's playing next at the Glasslands Gallery.
Never mind that person's opinions on us losers who get caught up in the (fake) drama though, the music on the show is pretty cool and eclectic.
Come to think of it, the only thing that made last episode better for me (REALLY?Aren't you tired of playing cat and mouse B.?) was the great song at the end.
A little bit of searching and I found it : We Are Stars by The Pierces.

To me, the song didn't really belong on a CW show though.
It's more the kind of song that you imagine playing in a dark bar, as the waitress gently sways behind the bar in a cloud of cigarette smoke.
It's the song that's playing on your record player as you make out with your tattooed boyfriend.
Hell, it's even the song that's playing as your boyfriend is getting tattooed on a hot, lazy afternoon.

In other words, it's awesome.

Watch out though.
If you're anything like me, you might find yourself listening to it over and over again until you know the lyrics by heart.

x, K.

19 going on 10.

Yesterday was my little brother's birthday.
There were presents, key lime pie, hugs and (a lot of) sushis.

It seems like just yesterday that he was that nerdy kid, taking his gameboy everywhere but somehow, he turned into that giant doing backflips in the pool.
We got to spend his birthday together which meant the world to me, especially since we now live in different cities and are both very busy with school.

As he blew his candles, I realized that he might be one year short of being in his twenties, but to me, he'll always be my 10 year old P.I.C.

I don't know how he liked his presents and I don't know if key lime pie is supposed to look like the one we made him, but I do know thatI personally consider him my best present ever and couldn't dream of having a cooler, wittier, smarter baby brother.

Joyeux anniversaire Nounou !
Moi plus INFINI !

x, K.

It's hard to tell at first glance, but we really are siamese twins.


All Alright.

For the best part of this year, I've been busy with a ginormous school project.
We first had to write a newspaper than come up with a communication strategy about AIDS in Southern countries.

I fought to have this subject.
While I don't have the science abilities or resistance to blood necessary to attend med school (props to you Dad and baby brother!)that doesn't stop me from being fascinated with medicine related stuff.
I grew up listening to my dad's (who is a GP) stories at the dinner table and was always rather interested.
And no, by that, I don't only mean that I'm obsessed with Grey's Anatomy.
I mean that I actually grew up sneaking around with my dad's books and that one of my favorite reads as a kid was "100 extremely weird medical cases".

As you imagine, I was pretty pumped when I knew I was going to be looking for info about AIDS for 8 months.
Here I was with my subject of choice, on my way to academical success.
As soon as I met the members of my group, I knew it wasn't going to be the walk in the park I thought it would.

See, I like to see myself as a very driven person.
I know what I want and while I h-a-t-e sitting at my table for hours on end, cramming theory inside my head, I know what I have to do to get it and maybe I'm not a study bunny, but I do love to write.
I love searching for sources, illustrating my papers, interviewing fascinating people...and I don't count my time while doing so.

I quickly discovered that not everyone was like me.
Stuck with a ditzy boy always playing with his hair and two non native speakers among others (we were 7) I came to the bitter realization that I was pretty much on my own.

Except that i wasn't and that's maybe the worst.
See, the problem wasn't really the work amount it was the fact that I never knew what to expect from those jackasses.
I'm not going to launch myself into a bitter catty tirade but let's just say that I had my fair share of knotted stomachs, never knowing if they would respect their deadlines and if not, if I would have enough time to do their work for them.

Thank God though, instead of having the sucky ending that I was expecting until today, this story ends good.
They studied the text I wrote them and our presentation went pretty smoothly.
Our grades will probably not be mind blowing but hey, at least, they didn't manage to sink my boat.

Now to be perfectly honest, I don't really know how to end this post.
I didn't learn anything new from that experiment, except maybe that really, you can only count on yourself.
There's not really a morale, or if there's one, it is that if you're a bunch of slackers stuck with 3 hardworking girls (I wasn't really the only one working, that would have been the death of me), fear not because they will single-handedly make sure that you get good grades.

What I did learn though was a very valuable lesson : when all else fails and you have to work for 6, there's always Diet Coke and pretzels.

x, K.

Thanks to my awesome cheerleaders, I managed not to go all Lizzie Borden on my teammates. Pfiew.


LIszt #2

A list of 10 cute music videos for students who are drowning in work and could use some cheeriness.

Lenka * Heart Skips A Beat

The Smashing Pumpkins * Tonight Tonight

Regina Spektor * Us

Devendra Banhart * Carmensita

Weezer * Island In The Sun

Florence + The Machine * Rabbit Heart ( Raise It Up )

The Knife * Heartbeats

Emiliana Torrini * Jungle Drum

Keane * Somewhere Only We Know

Moby * Slipping Away

x, K.

If the music videos don't cheer you up, this picture of Bonnie B. is guaranteed to do the job.

Days like these.

There are days like these, when despite your valiant alarm clock's best efforts, you still wake up 20 minutes before your class is due to start.
Come to think of it, even that is too early because all you want to do is stay in bed and cuddle.

Days like these when, just when you're catching up on the warm weather and going out in a t-shirt, it's suddenly grey and cold(ish).

Days like these when your dog greets you back home with a puddle of vomit.

Your feet are aching, your friend smoke close to you and you smell like ashtray and you can't even pop an Easter egg because they're kind of molten.

On days like these though, if you're lucky enough to have a Mr K., you might just find yourself the delighted owner of a pot of sunshine.

Thank God for the Mr Ks of this world, and thank God for daffodils brightening my living room, my day and my mood.

x, K.


O Boyfriend, Where Art Thou ?

As I'm writing this, I am sitting alone on the lawn of uni, not daring to move one meter in case Mr K. shows up.
We were supposed to meet up on the front lawn, but here I am, sitting alone.
Since I did not take my cellphone, I find myself in a tricky situation where I'm starting to feel as if I got our meeting point wrong, but don't dare move just in case I did get it right and he's late.
Who knew that at 22, I could still feel as confused as I did when I was 8 and my mom would be late to pick me up after ballet class...

I can't really blame anyone but myself though.
See, I've been quite rebellious lately.
Unlike all my peers, flaunting their smart phones at every occasion, I am proud to say that (despite having a shiny, efficient one) I function without a cellphone.
Apart from the damage I'm NOT doing to my brain (bad, bad cellphone micro waves), I can't see many advantages though.

Ever since I decided to go all Christopher Mccandless, I've upset my fair share of friends, waiting for me in places I had no idea that they were at.
(No matter how much you repeat it, this generation doesn't grasp the concept of not being able to reach someone by mobile phone)
I have lost count of how many times I woke up at the crack of dawn, only to find out inside en empty classroom that my earliest class had been cancelled and that the same friends that have to wait for me all the time had tried unsuccessfully to warn me about it.
I had to explain to my Dad that no, really, I wasn't filtering his calls at all and that yes, I was still his little girl, happy to talk to him whenever I got the chance.
All in all, being unreachable has proved to be pretty sucky.

Lately though, the situation has been getting out of control.
Ever since we broke one of our keys to the building, our every move out of the apartment requires military organization.
We sneak around campus like spies, meeting only long enough to drop the key before running off to our classes.
Despite that, I'm pretty sure that I'm know in the building as "the b*tch who forgot her key AGAIN".
Not a good thing when you often need your neighbors to pick up your mail.

Not a good thing either to have to hide from your friends because you just said goodbye to meet up with your boyfriend but really, you're sitting alone 10 meters aways from them.
So here I am, faced with no choice but to give in.
As I wait on the lawn, my jeans getting more dirty by the second (really spring lawn?all that sunshine and you're not even dry?), all I can think is "please, let Mr K. find me before the shops closes, I have to buy a prepaid phone card".

x, K.

At least, now that I'll have my cellphone back, I won't risk dying alone in the Alaskan wilderness anymore.


Tiny Dancer.


There was a time when I could legitimately call N. my baby brother.
Not that I don't do it anymore (ah!) but it sounded more accurate when he was actually smaller than me and wasn't drinking his weight in coffee every day.
Back then, he would mostly give me a hug or a drawing for my birthday.
I cherish those.

Now that he towers above me and that his knack for amassing money makes me look like a hobo, he has upped his game though.
Not a day goes by that I don't go out with some lovely bauble that he's gifted me, but this year, he wanted to go another road.

I will admit it, I was a bit surprised when he said that he had picked a pair of shoes for my birthday.
I'm not gonna lie, a bit scared too.
Did he know that I didn't really have a need for pink fluffy slippers ? Was he aware that while I love Dr. Martens on skinny girls in frilly dresses, they were likely to make my legs look like tree trunks ?

Nothing could have prepared me for the stunt he pulled.

Turns out, my brother might not talk much, but he listens.
A lot.

And so, for my birthday, he gave me the most beautiful pumps ever, a pair of natural leather Noë pumps.

See Noë shoes are my dream come true.
Their heel is high enough that you look like a vixen when you wear them, but not so high that you can't wear them when you have to walk more than around your apartment.
Their tip is pointy enough that you look like a rock chick, but not so pointy that you look like Paris Hilton.

The best thing about them though, is that they come in 50 colors, all of them prettier than the other.
A great shoe that comes in virtually every color ? HELL YEAH !

Sunday, there was a family event for Mr K.'s grandma.
I couldn't resist wearing my new Noë pumps there for the first time, excited to show them off to everyone, but also ready for the excruciating pain that would come with wearing new shoes for a long period of time.

That pain never came and I spent the day feeling like a million bucks.

Merci bébé frère !

x, K.

If you want your own pair, here's where N. found them : Vitrines Parisiennes


Happy Tuesday !

I usually never bother much with Tuesdays.
Mondays mark the beginning of the week, Wednesdays its middle and Fridays its end.
Tuesdays are like Thursdays, lost in the middle, stepping stones to more important days.

This Tuesday was really great though.
The sun was shining bright and I was able to multitask, tanning a bit (read : I look like a lobster) while working for Uni.
My mum bought me my poison of choice and I was able to sip on ice cold Diet Coke to keep cool.
My bread came out perfect out of the toaster, my Mister K. looked gorgeous in his cutoffs and my baby brother was affectionate without me having to go all Jewish mom on him.
Our dogs seemed to be even cuter and more kind than usual and they even managed to be somewhat quiet while we worked.
It really was a great day.

This post might not be interesting to an outside person, but really, it's quiet, blissful days like these that make me love my life.
I once read that it's better to treasure little pleasures than to only get excited about big things and boy, do I agree.

x, K.

Watching the sunset out of our bedroom window is definitely something that I treasure.


Hair Dy(e)ing.

A few years back, I was into the Rockabilly scene.
I would listen to The Horrorpops, singing "Baby Lou Tattoo" at the top of my lungs and yearning for the 50s, when real women had curves and real music made you dance.
Some great things came out of that period, amongst them being my newfound love for high heels and frilly dresses and getting to see Wanda Jackson perform live.
Let's not even talk about my everlasting love for Elvis.

Sadly, that period left a permanent mark on me : hair dye.
See, paired with my tea dresses and my lacquered red heels, my dirty blond hair just wasn't cutting it.
Soon, I was dreaming of hair dye, fancying myself a pin up version of Debbie Harry.

I shouldn't have.

On bad hair days, when my roots seemed to be as tall as me and my hair had a life of its own (read : looks like a curly mop), I still hear the voice of my colorist.
"Are you sure you want to dye it ?" she asked."It's very high maintenance you know."
Yes I was sure, and frankly how high maintenance could it be compared to painting my lips bright red and drawing a cat's eye every day, right ?


At first, me and my platinum locks had a good thing going.
I loved it and it loved me back.
Sadly though, the honeymoon period didn't last that long.
Shampoo after shampoo, my dyed hair started to show its true colors (pun intended).

Soon, instead of looking like some Rock'n'Roll vixen who would have belonged at the CBGB, my dark roots and yellowish hair made me look like the washed up waitress behind the bar.
Not a good look.

To make matters worse, I soon discovered that my hair was addicted.
Give it its dye fix and it would look and feel amazing, but as soon as the effects started to wear down; my sad scalp needed another fix.

I just couldn't handle living with an ammonia addict on top of my head.

Don't think I'm cruel though, I did try to help it, but no amount of protective shampoo or hair product could cure it.
It simply had to go.

Funnily enough, while I remember in great detail the excitement of getting my hair dyed platinum, I don't even remember when exactly I went back to the dark side.
My hair might be less vixen-ish now, but hey, at least I can never be mistaken for Dolly Parton's long lost cousin now.

x, K.

Back when I was an Anonymous Ammonia Addict.


With Sprinkles On Top.

Next to my parent's place, there is an ice cream parlor.
It is close enough that you can walk there, but far enough that you feel like you deserved your ice cream cone once you get there.

For years, me and my brother have had a tradition.
As soon as it's warm enough to ditch our coats, we walk to Vittorio's and savour the first ice cream of the year on our way back.

Over the years, many things have changed.
I went from being a chocolate kinda girl to enjoying weirder flavors like violet.
My brother grew (way) taller than me and we're now accompanied by his dog, my Mister K. and our dog.

Thankfully, some things never change.
Me and my brother are still like two peas in a pod.
That first ice cream of the year is still the one that tastes the best.

And more importantly, we still order our cones with rainbow sprinkles on top.

x, K.

My darling brother in full ice cream season.


Friday I'm In Love...with Florence + The Machine.

I discovered Florence + The Machine like many people did , her powerful voice blasting through our car's little radio.
"Dog Days Are Over" just felt like the perfect song to be silly to after a month of exams and rainy weather.
Time for me to discover her cover of "You've Got The Love" and off we were to a festival where she was performing.

Her performance baffled me at first.
Here I was, expecting to dance my ass off while shouting whatever lyrics I knew and instead, I was completely transfixed.
The concert was out of this world, she was very ethereal in a long victorian dress and the audience was completely mystified, vibrating to the tune of the accompanying harp.
It so happened that she was performing at sunset, giving it even more of a magic feel.
The hour that the show lasted was enough for me to become a fan.

This winter, we tagged along my parents for a snowboarding trip.
My brother having a tiny crush on her, we ended up listening to Lungs for most of the 8 hour trip.
Before I knew it, I knew the lyrics to all her songs and the album was forever linked in my mind to the exhilarating journey to the mountains.

"Cosmic Love" is one of my favorite songs off Lungs.
It has all the elements of a typical Florence + The Machine song : the mystical beginning slowly building up to a powerful chorus, the beautiful melody, her amazing voice....
Enjoy !

x, K.

Florence + The Machine - Cosmic Love


The Joy of Giving Up.

The calendar of a University student in Europe is a very weird one.
Every winter, you find yourself dreading Christmas because that means that your exams are right at the door.
You absentmindedly pick at the feast that your mom spent hours cooking as your mind is racing, not letting you forget that really, you should be studying.

Easter is another holiday that falls victim to exams.
While I haven't chased chocolate eggs in the garden for quite a while now (bummer), I used to always love spring break for the two peaceful weeks of (usually) clement weather that it offered.
Now ? not so much...
There are books to read, lessons to learn, exercises to do, ... and all the while you know that it's just prep work and that the real work hasn't started yet, that one whole month of studying and exams still awaits you.
It's kind of like getting a root canal but knowing that you'll have to come back soon to have your wisdom teeth taken out.

The fact that me and Mr K. both are at uni certainly helps, I mean, who doesn't like knowing that they're not in it alone?
Those past days, we woke up and went on with our day with the painful precision of well trained robots : breakfast-study-lunch-study-dinner-sleep-start again.

But not today.
Today, we opened our eyes and saw a grey sky out the window.
Today, the little place between his shoulder and his neck where I like to hide when I sleep seemed that much more warm and comfortable.
Today, we said screw it, and as I was drinking a cup of fresh orange juice nestled in my pillows, I realized that working hard might make you feel good about yourself, but boy, does giving up every once in a while feel heavenly...

x, K.

Mr K., happily giving up on the world last summer.


Two letters and one recipe.

Dear Kiwis,

I'm really sorry that I abandonned you on the kitchen counter, at the mercy of the April sun pouring out of our window.
Before I knew it your fuzzy skin was not that different from an elderly woman's one : not so firm, not so yummy.
What to do when faced with such a situation ?
Throw away 4 perfectly fine kiwis because they didn't match my taste for young firm flesh ? ( yup, I mean yours Mr K.)
That would have been so unworthy of a gal who prides herself on whatever little effort she makes for the environment.
Those kiwis had come to my kitchen top by means of a very long, very polluting flight and they deserved to be thoroughly enjoyed !

You'd be surprised at how many people find themselves in my situation, the search results for "overripe kiwi fruit" are quite mind boggling...That is, until you remove all the one that need proper baking tools ( student budget, mind you) and the ones that require butter (we finally got rid of the old butter that was slowly but surely getting attached to our fridge drawer.tuff decision.).
So, what does a determined baker whose boyfriend has a major sweet tooth do when faced with such adversity ?
Why, make her own recipe of course !

So, for those of you who are still reading ( note to self, make a post about my logorrhea), here's a yummy way to recycle overripe kiwis.

You'll need : * 3 kiwis
* 3 tablespoons of Marmalade
* 2 tablespoons of raisins
* 50 grams of sugar
* 50 grams of flour
* 2 tablespoons of olive oil
* 4 tablespoons of brown sugar (depends on the side of the dish you use)

1) Preheat the oven to 180°C
2) Sprinkle the brown sugar evenly at the bottom of your dish
3) Peel the kiwis and slice them in tiny pieces.Off they go to meet the brown sugar in your dish !
(this recipe is purely platonic.The kiwis only cover the sugar, no mixing involved)
4) Mix together the raisins and the Marmalade and cover your kiwis with it.
5) In a bowl, mix the sugar, the flour and the olive oil together.
6) Cover your dish evenly with this mixture.
7) Cook for approximately 20 minutes.

Dear Kiwi crumble,
I'm ashamed at the prejudice I had against you.
How could a dessert that was whipped in 5 minutes and that was made of overripe fruit and old Marmalade taste yummy I asked myself ?
well, you answered in the form of an indulgent spoonful of caramelized fruit and glorious crust...
Mr K. has already fallen in love with you, basically calling dibs on the whole plate.
As for me ?
Well kiwi crumble, I sense that you and I are going to become great friends.

x, K.

Yup, it tastes as good as it looks.



Spring has Sprung.

It all started with a big yawn.
Without anyone noticing, the big trees in our street started stretching their branches, still a little groggy from their long sleepy winter.
Before I knew it, their naked arms had been covered in leaves, making them look like big lush green pompoms from our 7th floor terrace.

Overnight, my beloved coat & boots combo became too warm and my scarf loosened itself, switching from a protection against the cold to a simple accessory.

Now it seems that everywhere I look all I see are my favorite flowers : tulips, dafodils, and above all, my precious cherry blossoms.
Soon, those too will be gone and it will be time for ice cream cravings and home made cocktails on our terrace.
Better log out and enjoy them while they're still here.
x, K. The glorious cherry blossoms next to our place.


Friday I'm in Love...with Angus & Julia Stone.

This post might be the first one on my blog (blah) but it also marks a way more eventful event : the first installment of the "Friday I'm in Love" posts.

As a student, I have quite a bit of time on my hands to satisfy my cravings for music and to look for new tunes.
Nothing sounds as good as the raw sexiness of a vinyl slowly turning, but hopefully, the little youtube snippets that i'll post here will hook some people up to whatever my obsession is that week.

You can expect to see on this blog a content as eclectic as my wardrobe's one : music, book and film reviews, hotspots in Europe and mainly in my current HQ (Brussels) and also probably a lot of rambling and over-sharing...can't say you won't have been warned !

So anyways, today I find that this beautiful rendition of the Grease classic matches perfectly the summery weather we had and the beautiful sunset light that's coming through my window right now.
I find that her raspy voice makes it very haunting, like something straight out of a Sophia Coppola movie - can't you see Lux & her sisters dancing absent-mindedly to this at their prom ?

x, K.

See what I'm talking about ? They're SO listening to that song there !