viajes en peru de milka: arequipa.

Of all the Plaza de Armas(es) in Peru, this one was our favorite. Pigeons and all.

cabin fever.

Grapefruit, avocado and arugala salad.

Yellow rose headboard.

Bangle.

Pumps you could never match with anything.

The snow days got to me. I may have gone the very definition of stir crazy. 

I looked at a lot of blogs. A lot. Hence the inspiration pictures piled up on my desktop.

And I noticed that a lot of blogging involves coveting things you can't afford and a lifestyle you don't have. (Also a weird obsession with stationary and print making). I literally got to the point where all the pathetic hankering made me nauseous. 

Not that there's anything wrong with dreaming, but...

Don't just blog it. Be it.

p.s. As far as real life inspiration goes, the next time you're at The Wedge on Western, look for Chelsea (server) or Kassidy (hostess), these girls have such great personal style and knock my socks off every time I come into work. Refreshing.

viajes en peru de milka: monastario de santa catalina.

A favorite day.

Discoveries around every corner.

So happy.

And in love.

monastario de santa catalina.

We spent an entire morning wandering around the Monastario de Santa Catalina in Arequipa, so picturesque - I loved the bright colors, the red geraniums everywhere, portraits of dead nuns (apparently they're only allowed to be depicted after death), views of Arequipa's mountains and volcanoes, honeysuckle...

Paintings of Saint Jerome and Saint Christopher became our favorites to see throughout the trip, they almost became like old friends.

I would highly, highly, highly recommend making time to explore it.

Another really good stop in Arequipa is the Museo Santuarios Andinos where you can see the incredibly well-preserved body of "Juanita," the first of fourteen Incan child sacrifices to be found in the mountains of South America.

jugo!

It's high time that I address something very important in my life on this blog: juice.

No lie, I probably go through two gallons of Simply juice a week. It started with grapefruit juice, but I've recently moved on to high pulp orange juice.

(On Sunday we got breakfast at Jimmy's Egg and Walker held up their orange juice as a good example of pulp-to-juice ratio. I scoffed - for me, the perfect glass of juice would be about half pulp, half juice).

This is in addition to the many smoothies I make - which will probably become a full blown addiction once I can afford a blender that doesn't become janked so easily.

So naturally, Peru was juice heaven for me. Cheap, fresh squeezed, divine tasting juice everywhere! Street corners, little shops, every restaurant...I had juice with every meal!

The pictures above are in Arequipa where Walker and I hit the juice gallon gold mine one night.

(Now, imagine me pronouncing jugo de naranja with a hard j and laugh).

When we got back home Walker tried to re-create juice-topia Peru by surprising me with a lathe (turned out it was good for apples and potatoes only - hello apple pie) and a juicer/squeezer thing. We practically went through an entire bag of oranges just for one glass - there's got to be a better fresh squeezed secret! Too much hard work.

Anyway, me gusta much jugo!

arequipa knockers.

Cute door knockers everywhere, one of the many reasons I fell in love with Arequipa, Peru.

state of the union.

This is Walker's story, but I'm re-telling it to further my own political agenda.

He was in between classes in Norman and decided to grab some food at the new Whataburger that just opened (ewww, I know. I try to warn him).

An older lady was sitting in a booth behind him and came over to ask what burger he'd ordered, as she didn't think she'd ordered the right thing.

He told her, she re-ordered and came over to inform him that they still hadn't gotten it quite right.

They both agreed that all the employees were new and still getting used to things.

"So, you've worked," she asked.

When Walker replied yes, she said, "You know whose never worked? Obama's never worked."

When Walker told her that he'd actually voted for Obama and believed he'd worked as a professor the lady told Walker that being a professor wasn't a real job, they don't do anything.

When Walker told her he currently works for professors and is studying to be one, she replied...

"Well, at least you're polite."

Walker felt that she was lonely and just wanted someone to talk to. He felt guilty for not talking to her more.

I, on the other hand, instantly despised the little old lady.

...but I really am trying to be a better person and not let this type of thinking get to me.