"Save our souls, we're splitting atoms."

Because of some lamentable and tragic moments in my past that involved tequila and what could only be described as a large hadron collider somewhere in my general stomach area, right under and behind the sternum and radiating upward and stopping around my inner ear, I have turned into a cautious bunny who has been living the quiet life of the ginger beer drinkers. We are a quiet bunch who enjoy long walks on the beach, normal sleep patterns and not being tickled. We also still enjoy wine, but shhh, don't tell my liver that ;)

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I'm gonna paint you a picture: it's morning, so early that the trams are the only things making noise on the street, I'm curled up in my nook in the kitchen, the one right between the fruit bowl and the fridge with the chocolate to satisfy both sides of the nutritional coin; and I'm sitting there clutching the coffee cup and whispering sweet nothings to it, the usual 'Our babies would be smart and cheeky and beautiful so why does the world not get the depth and aroma and sting and insert-coffee-related-adjective-here of our love?' and my mother walks in with the words to describe the week:

Darling, you look truly and genuily horrible, like some truck ran you over! Why don't you take a break from uni today?

And when I reminded her I have an exam in 3 hours, she petted my head lightly, passed me a Kinder egg and promptly kicked me out of the kitchen to go and read about neurodegenerative diseases and low-grade diffuse astrocytomas.

Because it has been that kind of week. I did get to see the most amazing surgery where I stared at a brain just an arm's length away (and brains are amazing and powerful even when pushed and pulled apart by horrible diseases and under those light in the OR it looks like it's got the most beautiful red and pink marble pattern and just how amazing is that guys, you're carrying that miracle organ around with you and it blows your mind - ha ha ha - when you realize how awe-inspiring it can be) and that was all-shades-of-the-rainbow great but...

But 8am to 9pm days kill me faster than I killed ants with a magnifying glass when I was young (I was a cute kid with a sharp and jagged sadistic streak) and I fell asleep twice this week in fetal position on the couch with my mother's politically related rambles in the background.

And that's all because of my Public Health and Marketing course which I hate. I hate it so much that I will refrain from putting it into too many words for fear I might run out of synonyms for hate. And it has nothing to do with me almost failing Econ 101 in high school because I am not a bitter person at all. Cough cough.

So this is me sleepy and beat up and yet still in awe after a week of neurosurgery so here we go: come on next week, let's see what you've got.

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But at least it was a good Sunday before all that. Sundays are generally good, because on Sunday, The Boy and I watched countless episodes of The West Wing, aka the best show ever made in the world of everything, and enjoyed good food and sunshine in an almost visceral need to balance the week out.

I was also lucky again to get to model a piece from the spring-summer Tina R. collection. This time I chose the beautiful shirt because it reminded me of pastel watercolors and how summer looks in the rain and of crazy beautiful graffiti, hence the photoshoot location.

You can also check the Tina R blog here for some more inspiration :)

The weather was that weird combination of cold seeping into your bones while the sun gives you sunburns on the tip of your nose, which let to a lot of teeth clattering and a few snowballs thrown around for good measure.

I was excited here because this guy on the wall was new. We had a connection, we really did.

Wearing: Zara skirt, shirt courtesy of Tina R., Kotton sweater, Adesgo tights, Nine West boots.

And this is the moment when I was probably waiting to break into a The Muppets song as a serenade to the little guy. Because that's how cool I am. Man or Muppet anyone? :))

And now excuse me while I bury myself in The West Wing episodes of awesome and daydream of being C.J. Cregg when I grow up while also pondering how Rob Lowe's face ever got that chiseled and if I find that attractive or just plain creepy.

And, as always, revert to my number one coping mechanism: chocolate. Mmmmm.

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Song of the Day: Take That - SOS

"Oh, sinnerman, where you gonna run to?"

I would like to take this opportunity to thank the person who invented ibuprofen because it is a gift in the shape of pretty little pill in those Saturday mornings when the alarm clock rings too early for whatever godforsaken reason and you're a bit hungover because of a night of one too many glasses of wine and staying up late watching violent movies that make one feel grateful for being alive and ordinary. (Lucky Number Slevin and Se7en because it was that kind of night.)

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Guys, guys, here's the thing: the reason for my lack of posting is really just that my life has not been that interesting in this bleary cold month of Fuck-All-It's-Cold-Uary.

Besides a brush with the Plague of the Century during my only holiday until the summer (a.n: and by 'plague' I actually mean 'the sniffles' but it was my only holiday and I spent it coughing in a pillow, watching a mind numbing Vampire Diaries marathon it sucks and I am a horrible little drama queen prone to histrionics) and I've been bouncing around between hospital rounds and making sure I squeeze in all the Oscar movies before this Sunday's (rather underwhelming) festivity and. Well. And that is really more or less the gist of it.

I've also been trying to wrap my mind around neurology (unfunny and not witty pun intended) and I've been failing miserably and I am looking back on my surgery rotation and missing the liver so hard when I try and read my neurology books that I am this close to composing The Ode of the Total Bilirubin. (Except that neurology is also amazing so you can see how things are confusing now, yeah?)

Next week, neurosurgery! And that should be a barrel of laughs and a truckload of pain. But, I try to keep positive by ingesting huge amounts of chocolate, adding wine to every dinner and

remembering one of my favorite quotes from Monroe, one of the best tv shows the Brits have gifted us poor, needy medical students:

"You’re taking your knife to someone’s head. The only difference between you

and a psychopath is good A-levels."

And things just be fine in the end, or else I deem this the worst start of the year ever. So, toes crossed and onward we go lest we go bonkers.

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And now here's to the fun parts!

Some time back I got an email from Dayna at Shabby Apple asking me if I'd like to review one of their dresses. I was familiar with their site and after staring at all the beautifully made dresses they had on display, I could not say anything but a loud, resounding yes!

After a short adventure at the post office (if there is Purgatory, its place is at the romanian post office; most people there where halfway between 'normal human being' and 'serial killer' by the time I escaped) I ended up as the proud owner of this delightfully elegant polkadot beauty you see here.

It reminds me of the dresses the ladies on Mad Men wear, all 50s charm and elegance, and it worked perfectly with the little Sunday brunch date and museum visit I had planned for this past weekend.

This is me excited that it was finally time for a leisurely, yet educational, Sunday. The Boy and I visited the National History Museum after we realized that, as a proud little Bucharest girl, I had never been inside and only glanced at the building briefly when walking to the favorite coffee shop of the moment. And have to tell you, it was really worth it.

I also felt like a princess in this dress, so I would recommend the Shabby Apple site to any girl who loves pretty, high-quality dresses like I do. I am honestly so in love with this dress that I am ready to go down on one knee and declare my undying love to it a la Romeo and Juliet minus the ludicrous dying at the end.

Wearing: Polkadot dress courtesy of ShabbyApple, thrifted belt, Mango tights, Nine West boots, Zara cardigan.

I'm also happy to announce that I was also given a coupon to share with you guys: just add the code cinnamon10off and you will get 10% off on any dress just in time for spring :)

Keeping it a bit punk-rock to keep my inner teenager proud unless she has a hissy fit worthy of a Good Charlotte album. Trust me, I've been there.

And because The Boy and I have a combined mental age of 5, we could not pass by this statue in front of the museum without a reenactment of the "It's a butt!" scene made famous by the masterpiece Finding Nemo. Forever young and and all that, you know how it goes ;)

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Song of the Day: Nina Simone - Sinnerman