Quick do we all feel about this post title? The only excuse I have for calling it "Black Magic" is that my outfit here is (almost) all black. If you take away the jacket. Is that reason enough? Or did I just make a complete fool of myself? What comes to mind when


hear the words "Black Magic?"

In my humble opinion, this outfit is pretty magical. And it's (almost) all black. Very fitting, then, that this post it entitled "Black Magic." Not going to lie - this might be the worst thesis I've ever presented...

Last week, I took a major step by finally checking out 

Graffiti Sublime

, a West LA coffee shop infamous for its litany of strictly enforced rules (read more about them


). After reading several low-rated Yelp reviews written by angry customers complaining about everything from rude baristas to the 90-minute wifi limit, I was absolutely terrified.

What if I decided to go there and ended up getting yelled at for bringing my reusable water bottle (no outside food/drink allowed)? What if I stuttered whilst trying to place my drink order? Would I be met with a judgmental side-eye from the barista? What if???

All of these concerns were completely unnecessary. I honestly don't understand why people give this place so much shit on social media! The barista was friendly enough, I had a wonderful time catching up with my friend,


, without getting reprimanded for being too loud or anything, and the interior was absolutely stunning! This coffee shop is really more of an art gallery. Two floors of all-white floors, walls and ceilings. It even has a fire place?!?! I mean, how cool is that?

The lesson to be learned here is that you shouldn't believe everything you see/read online. Don't knock something till you've tried it. I'm sure that at some point or another, we've all been scared off by over-zealous Yelp reviewers expressing their hatred for a coffee shop whose rules have been put in place merely to achieve a certain (perfect for conversation and/or getting some work done) ambience. Ignore the haterz and just check that place out for yourself. If you end up siding with the angry biggie! But you might just end up finding your new favorite spot.

Moving on to the look...

Can I just say that I always feel so weird talking about what I'm wearing?


 I be discussing the benefits of wearing jeans and a t-shirt, or my preference for all-black outfits? You tell me.

My wardrobe is in desperate need of an update. I have owned all of the items featured in this post for at least six months. I feel like I've tried almost every possible combination of the items I own, but after an hour of trying to figure out what to wear on this particular day, I finally found


. Why had this ensemble never occurred to me? It's got the best of all worlds. Double denim (black high-rise denim shorts + denim jacket) + distressed black tee + cool shoes + RayBan's = happy me.

This outfit's a winner winner chicken dinner for sure.


Romper - Urban Outfitters

Why is it that 19 seems like a younger age than 18? I feel like 19 is such an in-between age...

I know I'll probably regret saying (blogging?) these words in about 10 years, but...CAN I JUST BE IN MY 20'S ALREADY??

Yesterday, I celebrated my 19th birthday. And by "celebrated," I mean that I basically just ate a lot of delicious food that I usually don't allow myself to eat. Things got a lil wild.

I started the day in Echo Park, where I enjoyed the delicious French toast served at


. If you guys have been following along with the blog for a while, you may have seen my previous rave reviews about Sqirl. I'm still infatuated with this place. Seriously...once you've traded out your basic Aunt Jemima syrup and butter, for a dollop of mascarpone and scoop of homemade strawberry jam, your life will be changed - there's no better way to eat French toast.

Top - Urban Outfitters


Jeans - Madewell

After indulging in our delicious breakfasts (I forgot to mention that my mom ordered the Sorrel Pesto Rice bowl...sorry about that. I was too preoccupied with the memory of the French toast to be bothered to include my mom's order), we headed over to Old Town Pasadena to pick up some flowers at

Gilly Flowers


It's pretty amazing what a bouquet of fresh flowers can do for your mood. I think I need to start buying myself flowers on a monthly, or bimonthly, basis because it just feels so damn good carrying around a beautiful arrangement of seasonal blooms all bundled together with ribbon and butcher paper. Flower power is real.

Are you even surprised that the next thing we did was get MORE food? You shouldn't be. You should have seen this coming.

And what better way to celebrate a birthday than with an 8x8 donut???? Yes. These are real. They exist. And they're incredible. I'm pretty sure this donut tasted 1000x better than a regular-sized donut, simply due to its enormous size.

And that's pretty much all I did - French toast, flowers, ginormous donut, and a lot of Instagramming/picture-taking throughout. And I'm fine with that. So many people asked me if I was going to do anything "special" - even the guy at the flower shop!! The thing is, I'm not a huge party person. In my first semester of college, I had a completely different view on the subject. My birthday last year was...  ... ... . .. ..... I don't think I can properly recount it, or even share any positive/factual anecdotes about it. I've since moved on (read: become a recluse) and have learned to enjoy the simpler joys of life.

18 was a pretty tumultuous age for me. There were a lot of not-so-great experiences I associate with being 18, and I'm happy to have put many of those struggles behind me. I still have no idea what I'm doing with my life, I continue to live at home with my parents and two siblings, and I have yet to start the transfer process. And yet, I feel happier and more "at peace" than I have in a long time.

So cheers to huge donuts and flower power, because this year's going to be a good one. 

CONEHEADS - sweet rose creamery

For some, "comfort food" means mac and cheese, fried chicken and waffles, or mom's homemade lasagna. Not for me.

Despite its frozen nature, ice cream is one of my favorite foods, which I guess would make it a comfort food. I don't even know if I can categorize ice cream as food, though. You know those pesky surveys/ice breakers that always ask the question, "what's your favorite food?" I feel like the the expectation is to name a one with meat and veggies or something.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE food, and all kinds, too! I try to eat healthily the majority of the time, but

Sweet Rose Creamery

definitely makes it a struggle to stick to that. I feel so strongly about Sweet Rose's delicious scoops that I've decided to dedicate an entire post to them. Here goes.

The picture you see above is from my most recent trip. I was so excited to have ice cream that day; from the moment I woke up, I vowed to drive the 30-40 minutes to Sweet Rose and eat light meals for breakfast and lunch so I would be able to eat a deliciously large (2-scoop) cone while staying within a healthy caloric intake for the day. From the moment we parked the car, I practically pranced to the store. I was like a kid in a candy store, except I'm actually a grown ass adult.

I'm the kind of person who likes to sample as many flavors as possible to the point where I'm verging on being really obnoxious, but I have just enough self control so as to not annoy the employees. This time, I limited myself to two flavors. I also shared some of my mom's samples, too, I guess that brings the sample count closer to four.

After careful sampling, I chose a made-in-house waffle cone with one scoop each of chocolate ice cream and white nectarine frozen yogurt. With that, I left my mom to pay and rushed outside to the closest white wall I had staked out on my way to the shop, where I tried desperately to get an IG-worthy shot before the entire thing melted in the 95-degree heat. By the time I got a good shot, half of the chocolate ice cream had dripped onto my hand. I had to stand, alone, by the white wall, shying away from passers-by in the hopes that they wouldn't see my drippy, sticky, ice cream hand. My mom came and saved the day with wet wipes, though, so it all worked out.

I'm becoming increasingly aware of the fact that I'm making my actions, and thus my character, seem scarily close to what a seven-year-old would exhibit...

Working backwards, this picture is from my second trip to Sweet Rose. My mom got an affogato (ice cream + espresso), while I got another double-scoop - a chocolate sorbet and vanilla wafer-candied orange peel (See the self-control I exhibited this time with my decision to get it in a cup instead of a cone?).

Now, finally - the scoop that started it all. My first-ever trip to Sweet Rose. The one that started my obsession. I have my best friend to thank for the introduction. (We've been friends since third grade. we're kind of cute.)

This was obviously a time when I was a bit more meek. You can see here that I was once a single-scoop kind of gal. It was black cherry, and it was delicious. But thank God that ship has sailed, because I much prefer multiple scoops.