victor shakapopulis

Vegan Cupcakes for All! (or Whatever)

Brewing Grounds for Change, a volunteer-run coffee shop that has been a staple for me ever since i moved to MKE, is teaming up with the amazing and talented Jess of Compassionate Cakes to bring gorgeous
vegan cupcakes to Milwaukee's Eastside!
Please donate to help them buy a commercial oven and help start up a new bakery! Backing can get
you stickers, patches, free drinks/cupcakes, t-shirts, artwork, and bike stuff!

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/brewinggrounds/vegan-bakery-finds-a-home-in-milwaukee

There are ten days left to donate money, and as people are wont to say, every little bit helps!

I know there are only a few MKE denizens on my LJ friend's page, but if you're willing to contribute to this cause, I'm more than willing to make it worth your while. Your support would be immensely appreciated.
In conjunction with Brewing Grounds' awesome prizes, I will personally
bake a dozen vegan goods for every person I've invited who donates $25 or more to
this Kickstart project. Just private message me after you donate.

Will they look as amazing as Jess's cupcakes (which you need to see to
believe!)? Nah, but they will be made with my love and gratitude for
your support of my friends and this great goal.

Don't worry if you're not in Milwaukee, I am more than willing to ship to people out of state!

Check out Jess's cupcakes and the incredible storefront of Milwaukee's
only 100% fair-trade coffee shop at 2008 North Farwell Avenue,
Milwaukee, WI 53202


Here's some links of interest if you want to learn more about Jess, Compassionate Cakes, and Brewing Grounds for Change.
Compassionate Cakes Facebook
Compassionate Cakes website
My friend Kelly Peloza's awesome blog entry about Jess from Compassionate Cakes
Brewing Grounds for Change Facebook

aaaaaand the fic that coincidentally gave me an appropriate title for this entry Vegan Cupcakes for All (or Whatever) by medea_fic


victor shakapopulis

And I wrote my name into the fresh painted yellow line...

Baking Badass Molasses Cookies to the sounds of Hostel.
in my new blue winter toque and new stripy orange and blue apron.

the picture is a funny one in my head.

The cookies are for the family I dog-sit for. They're coming home tomorrow from Texas, and I've meant to bake for them the last couple of times I've watched their dog, but never got around to it. I figured x-mas time is as good as any... except who wants cookies after x-mas? sighhhh. it's the best I can do to show my appreciation for their generosity.

the hat and the apron were both handmade by a dear friend.

Hostel was just what I came home to.


In other news-- I've finally reached the peak to appropriately use the term "anxious" in regard to waiting for my friend, and prospective girl-flesh, to return from FL
Liiiikkkkkkkeeeee, seriously. We've been working up towards a fairly acknowledge mutual attraction, had two very wonderful dates, talk about how we need to "talk about" what's going on or could go on between us, then never get a chance to because I go away to Seattle. Come back, dilly-dally with a lost-cause fella one last time and then see her once before she goes on a two-week trip to some little island in FL, where she gets to run and the beach and just generally be awesome and I am here in MKE, working retail, getting stressed and feeling anxious and gross. ffffffffffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuu.
run-on sentence appropriate dilemma.



And once she actually gets back i bet ya a cookie we'll both free
victor shakapopulis

(no subject)

I'm wracked with unfounded anxiety and giddiness (well, that's not entirely unfounded). I know it's just a mix of caffeine, the impending blood bath (aka PMDD), and just overall... uncertainty about everything going on in my life. Will I get the job at Captel? Will I get any job, period? (I'm ready to give up on that possibility) Will I have to move back home at the end of August (a possibility/reality I'm not ready for) If I do, then it means I'm completely leaving Ben in the lurch, but my mom can't keep paying rent, and what the fuck sort of jobs are actually going to be in Rapids? What the hell will I do once I go back there?? Pretty  much the same thing I'm doing here--only with less friends, no emotional support, less things to actually motivate me to use my free time, and no decent means of independent transportation.
My stomach has been fluttering and my hands have been jittery all this afternoon, and it's just being exacerbated by the fact that I'm tits over teakettle twitterpated with someone who's just too perfectly pleasantly strange. Infatuation is nothing new, I comfortably drift in and out of flash infatuations(2:12) as I feel out the moods, the chemistry, and the intentions; what throws me for a loop is the possibility of mutual smittenness. I don't trust that. And I certainly don't trust my own loopy feelings--it's hard to enjoy anything that makes me feel this giddy, crush-stupid, and unsettled.
I have more hang ups then a coat rack.

I shudder from this anxiety--it leaves me tense, needing to clutch to something-anything, to anchor me, and right now, there's really nothing for me to grasp.
victor shakapopulis

Christmas in July!

I neglect to check updates on pinto_fic for one day, and suddenly, when I go on this afternoon(yesterday), there's a PILE of stories to read. Nay, not just any pile of stories, four of my favorite authors have posted little package of scrumtious smut--ALL AT THE SAME TIME!! oh sweet, sweet joy.  
In other news, I have a date to watch a meteor shower in August. I'm excited, I haven't looked at the sky in what feels like ages.
  • Current Mood
    giggly giggly
victor shakapopulis

if it's magic... if it's magic..., or the :48 second

Addicted. to.
dance videos. can. not.
stop.

This the beautiful introduction from the show Love Stories, a collaborative piece from Judith Jamison, Rennie Harris, and Robert Battle for the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre.
Set to Steve Wonder's "If it's Magic", choreographed by Jamison, and performed by Clifton Brown.The whole piece is captivating; the grace and physicality of the Clifton Brown, the performer, is quite arresting. Especially, especially at the :48 second.
all I can say is shit. goddamn.


victor shakapopulis

Eden superimposed over Guernica -- an L.A. metaphor

I've been thinking about L.A. a lot lately. Not really 'due consideration' thinking, more like 'passing fancy' thinking. I've been thinking about L.A. and L.A. literature and L.A.'s purpose and zeitgeist and worth. I've been hankering for Ellis L.A., having recently read an article about him in Interview, and that hankering led to wanting to re-read Less Than Zero, his debut novel about rich L.A. kids 'who do lots of drugs and never learn to be human'. And when I was thinking about about that book and L.A. and the smattering of thoughts I've been having about that Otherworld I remembered this scene from the book between the main character and a girl. And the more I thought about this vaguely remembered scene, in all its surreal partiality, the more I began to see it as my metaphor L.A.. The way that scene reads and how I feel is what I think it must be like to live in L.A.; no, not just live there, but what it must be like to live for L.A., and subsequently Hollywood. What I think about L.A. and how I feel about L.A., as a Midwest nobody who's never seen that coast or known those people but knows the idea of those people and the concept of that place, is wrapped up in that awkward, anonymous scene.

I re-read it yesterday, having "coerced" my roommate into checking it out from the library for me, and it's just as I remember. Finer in detail now, but the notion and emotion are the same.
This is L.A.

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victor shakapopulis

Waka waka (waka)

So, World Cup 2010 ends this weekend, and Germany won't be playing in the final-final game, but I do intend to watch both Saturday and Sunday; Sunday if only because a local pub is holding an eleven-hour block party.
On a mostly related note, I find myself completely captivated by the "Waka Waka (This Time for Africa)" music video, because
a) I'm a tool for (inspiring) montages
b) I'm a tool for Shakira's thighs, hips... well, everything
c) I'm a TOTAL tool for dancing
and d) I'm just a tool.
Who would have guessed that active involvement in an internationally revered sports event would result in total toolage?