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I, like many other 21st century, iPhone owning half-hipsters, am in love with Instagram. While it will never replace the photos taken on my SLR camera, it is certainly a welcome improvement to the sometimes bland and poorly lit images that my iPhone’s regular camera takes.

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I’m not really big into using a lot more of the dramatic filters (I mean, has anyone in the history of Instagram EVER used the Kelvin filter?!). Answer:

Photo 2013-04-18 10 44 10 AM

Sorry, just needed to get that out of my system.

Anyways, few months ago I discovered the website Prinstagram. It’s a simple concept: you log-in to your Instagram account through the site and then you can print your photos in a variety of forms, from posters to photo books to stickers.

A number of times I would log onto Prinstagram, carefully filling up my digital cart with photo goods, only to forget about the screen, and mindlessly press “Command Q” on my Mac, flushing my progress into an online dumpster. I finally decided I would get serious about my order, mostly because I had been inspired as to two ways I could put the final prints to actual use. They are as follows:

1. Print photos of Norbert.
You know Norb. He’s that adorable ball of non-allergenic fluff (thank goodness) that shows up on every blog post and social media site I have. My Instagram feed was barely tolerable before I moved in with Jen, Ian, and Norb, what with all the food photography I posted. But then I added cats. And the Internet sang and the prophecy guiding me towards the destiny of “worst online person ever” was fullfilled. Now, Norbert has become the primary subject of my Instagram photos. It’s Norbert crouching next to our orchid plant this and Norbert cuddling beneath blankets that, and Norbert giving the camera a look that balances both cuteness and mischief.

So when I saw that Printsagram could create stickers out of my Instagram photos, I knew it must be done. My original intent was to print a bunch of them (I believe there’s 250 in a pack for $10) and stick them in random places around the house for Jen and Ian to find and subsequently “oooohhh” and “awwww” over. That changed as soon as I got the stickers in the mail. I’m bad at containing my excitement for things, and immediately ran across the newsroom to show Jen what I had done. Like a kid handing out  high fives, I went around and gave cute Norbert stickers to a number of my other cat-loving co-workers, thereby convincing one of them that she wanted to print her own stickers of her cat, Murphy. See what I’ve done?

And, since 250 stickers is a lot to have made of just one little feline, I also sticker-ized some other images… from scenes of my outdoor explorations, to cute photos of my family, to a shot of the massive snowbank that once threatened to take over the front door of CBC.

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Since printing, these stickers have been sent across Canada (to Jen and Ian’s families in B.C.) and across the world (where Ariel and Natalie now have a good collection of cat stickers to hang up around their London flat). While the edges of the stickers cut off a bit of the image, I couldn’t be happier with the result of a $10 purchase. I’ve already started to brainstorm a whole series of ways these could be used for future projects.

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Stickers!

2. Print photo cards of my two-years-ago European travels
One of the things I hate about iPhone photos (or any digital photos for that matter) is my tendency to never ever print them. So they sit on my computer (or even worse, on a gigantic external hard drive packed away in my closet), only to be scrolled through on occasion, rather than admired in a frame or photo album. I had a bunch of Instagram shots I had taken while travelling across Europe with my friend Gord two summers ago. These were photos I loved – ones of all those key destinations: the Eiffel Tower as shot from Sacré Couer, a night market on the bank of the Tiber River in Rome, looking down on the mismatched roofs of Florence, à la Assassin’s Creed. Printstagram printed 24 for me for $12. They are now strung up on some photo wire on the last spare wall space I have in my bedroom.

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Annnnd here's an Instagram photo of those prints...just for good measure.

Annnnd here’s an Instagram photo of those prints…just for good measure.

Yikes, is it time to move out when you have too much art to fit in your bedroom? One day my apartment will be filled with well-placed do-dads, framed prints, and my ever-expanding art postcard collection. Also: I’ve stopped hanging things up with tacks – that means I’m a grown up, right?

If there’s one thing my dad dislikes, it’s leftover holiday turkey. In fact, there is an infamous Duff family story involving my exasperated dad and a plate of turkey pot pie…but we won’t go there.

This context in mind, it was totally logical that I make him turkey burgers for father’s day, the one day of the year that is supposed to be all about him. Before you start crying injustice and boycotting my blog, let me explain. Because I love my dad, I want to expand his horizons. I intend to do that by presenting him with things – turkey burgers, say – of which he may be a little wary. By making dinner delicious and thus somewhat reversing his hatred of all things turkey-related, I’ve helped him out in my own special way. BAM – the gift of enlightenment. What did you guys get your dad..golf clubs? Pfft, whatever!

Even if these were turkey, they were still burgers which I thought fit into the theme of “dads” quite well. Plus, my dad taught me to barbeque a few weeks ago, so I thought he might appreciate me showing off this newfound ability.

When I saw the recipe for these burgers, it automatically reminded me of my dad, just because of the Dijon mustard use. Back story: there was a stint in grade seven or eight when I would make my dad a sandwich every night to bring to work the next day. This sandwich would always have the same innards – margarine, sliced ham and a generous spoonful of Dijon mustard. The smell, texture and taste of said condiment now reminds me of him. Go figure.

Oh right, and I also decided to make homemade sesame seed hamburger buns after seeing this beautiful recipe on the interwebs. We have a breadmaker at home, but I wanted to get all Betty Crocker and knead everything by hand. Plus I get to eat more dough that way…

Anyways, these ended up being a hit and I loved the avocado and roasted red pepper as toppings.

PS: if you haven’t already, go read this stellar personal essay by the Globe and Mail’s Ian Brown. It is father-themed, and therefore appropriate for this post. It made me cry like a baby and write an emotional letter to my dad, which I inappropriately called “The First Draft of your Eulogy.”

Oh god, I suck at father’s day, don’t I?

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This was a very grown-up meal.

When it comes to cooking, making dinner with one component is usually enough for me. You know - just pasta or just chicken or just a kooky vegetarian burger. The side dishes that are normally associated with a well-balanced, three-part meal normally come in terms of me eating a tiny piece of chocolate while dinner is being prepared. Or a fresh pita. Or whatever else is on my countertop.

I’m rambling now, but basically what I’m saying is that a dinner hat trick is something I feel I can humbly boast about.

My good friend and old roommate Ariel came over for dinner a few nights ago, and I decided to spoil us. Though I spent the afternoon drooling over Internet images of pumpkin-stuffed perogies, I remembered at the last minute that I had two chicken breasts that needed to be used (don’t worry, the pumpkin perogies will be made and blogged about someday soon). Thus, this dinner came to be.

Here is what old (pre-learning to cook, circa 2010) Hilary and new (cooking, yay!) Hilary think of chicken:

Old Hilary: Okay, so I have this piece of chicken. Even though I’ve had plain chicken for the past three nights, I think I’ll duplicate those “successes” and again fry this on our George Foreman grill until all the delicious juices are oozed out of it. I’ll also slather it in BBQ for good measures and will probably eat it with lots of extra salt. Side dish: plain rice.

New Hilary: Okay, so I have this piece of chicken. Obviously no piece of chicken is complete unless it is stuffed with smooth goat cheese and oven roasted in its own juices with fresh sprigs of rosemary. Oh right, and I have this prosciutto here – sure, that can be a sweater for the chicken in the oven. Four hundred degrees is a little chilly anyways. Let me consult my beautiful, Things Organized Neatly-style cookbook for ideas. Side dishes: hmm, might as well make a fresh arugula salad and potatoes fried in duck fat while we’re at it. (okay, I get it, this sounds super indulgent and gluttonous, but it doesn’t happen often. Mom, I love duck fat. Accept this. Let it be my vice.)

Wouldn't that be better? Me with nothing to say and you in your prosciutto sweater (song lyrics, updated)

Conclusion: New Hilary is slightly more OCD, and is conscious of how judgmental she is of the girl she once was. New Hilary is also more satisfied with dinner and life on a daily basis.

The roasted tomato juices were delicious with the chicken, and it took all my will power to not tackle Ariel and eat her plateful too. A good, balanced meal, exactly what you want before you spend the rest of your night pigging out on Mayfair Theatre popcorn (whilst crushing on George Clooney), licorice nibs and a really yummy gelato-espresso drink. #girlsnight

Chicken, before and after oven

Arugula = the best

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I bought a bunch of new packs for my iPhone Hipstamatic app.  This is the result.

1: Britt playing “Here Comes the Sun.”  Me singing along horribly.  Let Friday night begin.

2: The first of many creepy iPhone shots I took at the new Shoppers Drug Mart in my neighbourhood.  The lighting in the fragrance aisle was too great to resist.  I am 100 per cent sure the sales lady thought I was an extremely shady shopper.

3: Likely my future kitchen furniture.  Very 1980′s, especially as seen through my new Hipstamatic lens.  You can’t fully appreciate it from this picture, but the chairs are the most fantastic pastel easter egg colour.  The table centre piece is a tiny giraffe family peering out the window.

 

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