Inspired by Biedermeier

A few weekends ago I took a mini trip to Milwaukee, where I happily spent hours alone in the Milwaukee Art Museum.

It was delightful:

One of the weirdest parts for me was a quick immersion in Biedermeier, which is a particular style of European home furnishing developed in the early 1800's:

I credit my 3 semesters of college German for seeing that word, hearing it perfectly in my head, and transporting me to this episode of SATC:

Now I'm finally able to fully understand this scene: Man, stands from couch, struck with awe - "Is that Biedermeier?"  Woman, perky, intrigued - "Inspired by Biedermeier. You have a good eye."  Man, gleeful and in love - "I'm like addicted to Architectural Digest."

And thus, Miranda's hopes of bedding Jeremy Fields were dashed by interior design.

Even more!!

Paint desktop backgrounds!!! 

Or are they called wallpapers? Either, I think. Whatever. I know you're terribly excited so without further ado:

Seasons Greetings

Matchy matchy

I took a break from my first ever viewing of The West Wing (I'm marathoning through season 2 at the moment) because I feel it is high time for another SATC wardrobe highlight. As promised, here is the blue holey shawl:

I cannot adequately express how much I detest the word shawl.

This is from season 2 when Carrie is secretly dating Big again. When Big sees her in this he says, "Wow. You look sensational." And she does. And he means it. Then they have passionate sex and her diaphragm gets stuck up there. TMI?

Would this shawl be as dynamite without the blue eyes that match it? I'm.. not.. so.. sure. Part of the allure here is how much it brings out her eyes. Regarding the holes, I once read in a Pantone book that see-through things are universally flattering because our skin naturally matches us, and matching our natural palette is the easiest way to flatter ourselves. So with the shawl matching the eyes and the skin matching the.... skin, Carrie pops in this. 

Sorry, brown-eyed girls. You'll have to take comfort in knowing you're genetically dominant.

Holiday dress-up

I don't dress up like a lady very often. Or ever. Come Christmas my mom would love if I donned a dress. Or a heel. Or more jewelry. Or more make-up. Long story short, she'd love for me to look more like a lady. Like my potential.

It's gotten to the point where I'm afraid I can't pull off a dress. There'd be too many comments. 

LEAVE ME ALONE I JUST LIKED THIS DRESS AND FELT LIKE WEARING IT IF YOU KEEP COMMENTING ON MY LOOKS I WILL NEVER WEAR A DRESS AGAIN LEAVE ME ALOOOOOONE!!

Instead I'll frolic in dresses vicariously through this post. Key to me with dresses are sleeves, knee-lengths, color/pattern, and the term "machine wash". I present to you some lovely dresses I cannot wear on Christmas day:

left, left-center, right-center, right

Was it good for you?

The first concert I went to was in 1998 to see Pearl Jam when they toured for Yield. To this day I'm not sure a better 3-4 track combo exists on an album greater than No Way - Given to Fly. But this isn't about that.

This is about live music, something I used to enjoy. Nowadays at medium or large scale concerts my ears may be happy, by my eyes are assaulted. I'm speaking of this:

Get your god damned phone out of my face and put your stinky arm down. I'm not tall enough to avoid this view, and even if I was I think the LCD screens would still be highly disturbing. Not long ago I was at this concert (pictured above) and in addition to the people taking constant pictures and uploading them onto Facebook (I'm totally fine with you doing this once per show) a few assholes near me actually recorded the whole damn thing. 

FOR WHAT!!?!

Back about 6-7 years ago I spent an entire fireworks show taking pictures of the spectacle, watching it through a 2 by 3 cm viewfinder instead of with the intended panoramic display. How stupid of me. I never look at those pictures. I missed the show. I missed a heartwarming fourth of July family event on a boat with my grandparents -- something I know now I'll never get the chance to do again. Instead of recording my feelings I recorded specs of light in the sky with my 40 dollar film camera. As you can imagine, the pictures were shit. If I took one picture that day I wish it would have been of the fireworks lighting up the faces of my loved ones. But no. I learned a lesson that year.

Back to concerts -- knock it the fuck off people, or I will stop trying to improve your cell phone battery life with my day job. Enjoy the show with your senses, not with your electronics. Let the professionals do that. Just be there. Just experience it. Take one picture and then cool it. My blood pressure begs you. In return I will try to refrain from accidentally putting my elbow in your kidney.

First crushes, Eddie Vedder edition

Reading my junior high diary reminded me of some of the boys and men I had crushes on back in the nineties. Mostly boys. And then there was a man - Eddie Vedder.

Today this crush endures. Behold my dream man as he is today, 12-12-12, during the Sandy relief benefit:

singing Comfortably Numb with Pink Floyd, like any superpower might do

I wonder if Eddie's virtual presence in my life is what cemented my thing for men with long hair. While we're on that train, soulful eyes and killer cheekbones don't hurt either. I sometimes think about Eddie's wife and kids and wonder what they know... what's this man like? I have a friend who met him at a wedding and he reported that Eddie was "like a small, old, poet". That sounds about right. My crush is not on Eddie Vedder - how could it be? It's on a man with a microphone. A man with a baritone that makes my knees weak. A small, old, poet.

If I ever have the luck of meeting him in person I hope I can remember to say just one thing to him -- Thank you. Thanks for enriching my life. To offer something in return I'll probably ask him if he has any questions about the periodic table.

Secret words

Cleaning out my childhood bedroom over Thanksgiving I came across my junior high diary. We're talking 7th grade. We're talking 2 decades ago. Although I was on the edge of being embarrassed while I read it, I ended up enjoying quite a few laughs. I wrote a lot about report cards, sports practices, my spoiled little sister, and where all of my friends and crushes fell on my scale of brain power. I was seemingly obsessed with brain power.

Here are a few choice quotes:

 - If I ever have a husband and he reads this I would like him to know that I have no boyfriend and I never plan to!

 - School is so boring! I spent the entire day daydreaming. I must have the next twenty years of my life planned.

 - I got a perm today (spiral).

 - It was ninety degrees today. I hope it gets cooler. The hole in the ozone is making the seasons warmer.

 - I'm really scared about 3 things. They are life, death, and puberty.

 - Thank goodness I'm smart or I might have no future whatsoever.

 And the most epic of all:

 - I didn't know it but I got my first period. It was gross. I am so disappointed. God didn't listen. I wasn't supposed to get it until I said the secret word!

Ahh, memories.

Colors of my garden

The colors in the garden were a sight to be seen this year.

Girl's room

A while back, madly inspired by colors in a picture, I took a stab at roughly designing a boy's bedroom. Well now I can present to you the rough designs for a little girl's room, inspired by a piece of art on Etsy:

Happy Dreams

I love the bright colors. I love the dreamy, whimsical sway. But what wall color does it go on? I'm thinking greenish blues or maybe a peach:

Left color from PowerPoint palette. Rest from Benjamin Moore.

Ahhh, now we're talking.

Now for some prints to hang on a different wall:

Prints from single Etsy shop: red-orange, peacock, leaf, pink-red, peach

But I know what you might be thinking. My daughter loves pink pink pink pink and nothing but pink. She'd never go for this!  Not so, my friend. Behold the special pink area, just for her:

She might grow out of pink but this is her long-term room. Give her these friendly prints and loads of good pink bedding!

Barrettes

While home for the holidays I uncovered a bunch of my childhood barrettes:

Barrettes of my younger years
Although I can't picture them, I bet there are a few missing from this photo. Some may have been broken from wear.

It's so crazy to see these. There's this hazy, cloudy meaning in each one, and none of it means anything to anyone but me. These barrettes stuck around.

To think how meaningless these little things would be to anyone else, like when tossed around in a bin at a garage sale, it tickles my mind.

Holiday gift guide 2012

The idea of making a holiday gift guide is kinda ridiculous. How do I know your recipients? Should I tell you all the things I'd love? Should I tell you everything I've chosen for others, and why? Should I make guesses at your situation?

No. 

Instead I can share my gift giving philosophy and give you some examples. 

Who should give gifts? Whoever wants to. I'm a firm believer in gift-giving being totally optional and not very expected. Let people who HATE buying gifts off the damn hook. Don't do it if you don't want to! There's probably some other way you prefer to demonstrate your love and appreciation.

Lately I've been trying to hone some homemaking skills that I can rely on and share with others. I'll be gifting some of my canned jelly and chutney this year. There's love in every jar. Maybe next year I'll get some beeswax candles going....

Left. Something tells me I might not get beeswax candles gift-worthy on my first try. Maybe I should make a beautiful mess anyway. Right. Chutney.

You're thinking, how the fuck do you expect me to have spent time making homemade gifts for people? A ha. Good point. If you need something easy to buy for an adult woman and you don't really know what this person wants or needs, go with a silk scarf (assuming non-veganhood). Everyone will love touching a silk scarf and they pack away to nothing. 

Polka dots, represent! These are so easy to find on Etsy. Left, Middle, Right.

Another thing I like to gift are cookbooks. I, and many others, love to read cookbooks. I like the ones with stories, with history, with anecdotes, with heart. If you know someone else who reads cookbooks and loves to cook (and eat), anything by Nigella Lawson is really nice. This is a real treat too. There are many, many good cookbooks out there. Whatever you do, don't buy "Cookies" from a Home Goods clearance aisle and then give that to someone who likes cookies. You can do better than that.

Assuming you don't know what to get someone, let's go over what NOT to get them:

(1) Artwork and things expected to be left out in the house. Unless you're really informed about someone's desires, don't force something on them that they are expected to hang and use or look at. [I totally disregard this rule with my herb wreath, below.] It's too much pressure. A person should feel free to surround themselves with whatever appeals to them. 

(2) Things for the hands. Nonadjustable rings and gloves are very tricky. I avoid them. 

(3) Gift certificates to random places. I do not want 40 dollars to Macaroni Grill. In my experience, GC's can work as long as you (a) know the recipient frequents that place, and (b) pair them with something of that nature (like a Lush product, catalog, and GC, or some packable lightweight grocery bags with a GC to Trader Joe's). This shows thoughtfulness. 

(4) Anything big. If it may be a mistake, don't make it a big one. Make it something easy to hide. Earrings are nice and small.

In general I like to give people things they probably won't buy themselves because it's a little extravagant. It's not expensive, like that 16 dollar bottle of heavenly wine, but it's more than we're able to spend on ourselves regularly. So it's a treat. It's above and beyond but still highly affordable. It's that 4 dollar bar of phenomenal chocolate. It's that amazingly fragrant and gorgeous herb wreath. Gifts from this category, gifts of treats, make great host/hostess gifts.

Wreath - hmmmm, how about a homemade herb wreath? Wine - last time I had Estancia (a Duo) my mouth was very happy. They sell some at my TJ's. Chocolate, the really really really good kind.

I should add a disclaimer here that I'm not an expert gift giver. I've given some bad gifts in my time.. mostly due to overthinking instead of underthinking, I think. One time I actually gave a loved one Tupperware. Seriously. 

Regardless of food storage mishaps, I do know what the best gifts are. The best gifts showed you were listening 5 months ago. When your friend complained that this wallpaper was giving her lust-mares, and how her organic cotton flour sack tea towels were the bomb, you were listening. When he said, "There's no good vermouth you can buy!" and "I think we could fit a deep fryer right here," you were listening.

Left, tea towel of my dreams. I love you, towel. Middle, two of many options for organic flour sack tea towels. Right, useful and unique kitchen apron.

And that's my overall gift giving philosophy.

I ask you

I want to wallpaper a small wall in my apartment, but I can't. So I want to wallpaper a big flat piece of cheap something that I can hang/tape to the wall.

What is that big flat piece of cheap something?

UPDATE: I've talked to a professional framer and some friends about this and the consensus is to use a foam board, which you can get in large sheets from framing stores or smaller sheets from chain craft stores.

Can we take a moment

And appreciate this spectacular wallpaper?

It takes a lot of mental slapping to not buy a roll of this "for later".

I bow to you, gray waves.

Now back to my regularly scheduled vacation...

Favorite lazy meal

Back to Trader Joe's for my favorite lazy meal - Reduced Guilt Mac & Cheese:

You'll be scraping the cheese out of the groves in the plastic tray in no time.

I'm not a big fan of microwave lunches or meals in general. They tend to be overly salty and underly satisfying. But this simple meal has managed to make me a fan. It's got 22% of my "daily value" of sodium, which is about 1/5, which is about just fine. The fat is not out of control. Not quite enough calories to stand alone as "dinner", but I'll forgive that. The 15 grams of protein are very welcome, and with just 4 g of sugar, I'm happy with this nutritional profile. I also like that I'm not asked do a 2-step microwaving operation. I'm way too lazy for that.

Serving suggestion: Once I was dog/house sitting and I had made some stovetop mac and cheese. These people had a dried garlic grinder... so I added some of this garlic and some black pepper. OMFGGGFG this was good. I have yet to have a dried garlic grinder fall in my lap so I just add some garlic powder and fresh black pepper after microwaving before mixing.

The lazies

Every workday morning I wake up and think 2 things: (1) I can't wait to get home and come back to bed, and (2) If I could only stay home today I'd get SO MUCH DONE around the apartment. That laundry I didn't do last night I'd do right away. I'd clean off the kitchen counter AND make coffee. TWO cups. I'd vacuum and then do a work-out video. I'd organize my closet. Fuck, I'd dust.

Then I get to work. I think, gosh, I can't wait to go home and be productive. Then I read the news online while I take small breaks from work emails and meetings and printing things. I put off a thing or two because I should really start them tomorrow nice and early when I get to work, not now, heck it's almost 10:30.

Lunch at 11:30 because I didn't eat breakfast. Then some more work. Hopefully I'll stay on my feet and the time will fly. If I'm at my desk I get the yawns. I should get some afternoon coffee.

I should go home early since I'm gonna work on this poster/paper/whatever tonight with a glass of wine after dinner. I'll concentrate better without all these interruptions from work people anyway.

I get home. Dinner devolves into salsa and chips or a glass of milk with chocolate malt Ovaltine. Maybe a frozen pizza if I'm really hungry. I snack on olives and gummy vitamins. Sometimes I'm actually too lazy to uncork a bottle of wine. Let me repeat that, sometimes I'm too lazy to uncork a bottle of wine. I could vacuum and do that work-out video but it's after dark and my downstairs neighbor's peace should be respected. I could do laundry but it's dark out and it's safer if I do it when the sun comes up. I should go to bed early so that I can wake up early. That work I was going to catch up on can wait till tomorrow since it's not due till the day after. Maybe I'll catch up on Nashville instead, and Mad Men season 3 won't rewatch itself. I stay up too late because I really really don't want to wash my face and brush my teeth.

Wake up and snooze and snooze and snooze. Take a shower and wash my hair but don't have an extra 3 minutes for conditioner or 4 minutes to dry it or 1 minute to brush it.

Thus goes a depressive period, in the lazy sense. In doing.

I have mental energy. I have curiosity. I have angst. I have love. I have passion. But I also have the lazies. You ever feel like you exhausted all your energy achieving achieving achieving so that you could get this job and live in this apartment? Occasionally someone with kids will tell me to relish the laziness I can afford. They say they'd kill to take a 4 hour nap every Saturday. Sometimes I think they're right, and sometimes I think I'd be a more productive person all around if I had to take care of someone other than myself.

It's almost like I need a bigger challenge. I know I could excel at work and keep a cleaner home and get in better shape. I could. But why? I know I'll meet the work deadlines somehow and keep my cholesterol down and clean up in time for company. It might suck but I can do it. What would I do if I was on top of things all the time? Be a better blogger? Make more chutney? Achieve fitness goals? Volunteer somewhere? Learn to make bread? Have less guilt about my laziness and learn to truly enjoy downtime? Hey wait, this is beginning to sound... damn it.

I may want a bigger challenge, but I certainly don't need one.

Introducing handsome

My male cat was a little jealous that his sister was getting all the internet fame (ha).

Introducing handsomeness:

I swear, he almost always looks like he's posing for a glamour shot. 

He may be part Russian Blue... I don't really know since he was adopted from a shelter. Do Russian Blue's puke a lot? If so, he's a ringer. Strangely I used to daydream about my first cat being all gray, and then when it came time to get one he was the only option! I was set on getting a non-obese adult cat from the local shelter. Enter this handsome man. My first feline love.

Chutney for all

This year I had access to lots of unripe tomatoes. Our late summer was unfavorable for tomatoes, but favorable for my new favorite condiment, tomato chutney.

I based my recipe on that of the only celebrity I've ever met, Mollie Katzen. She was in the best supermarket in existence, The Berkeley Bowl, dishing out some of her new heat & eat soups. Not being prepared for this sighting, I'm sure I was a total dork. (Who am I kidding - I'd have been a dork regardless.) I mustered the courage to approach her and thank her for the The New Moosewood Cookbook, home of my hummus, home of my samosas, home of my more vegetarian fantasies. This recipe stems from there as well.

I'm not going to spell out her recipe because I don't have permission to do so, but I can surely say that mine was a simmered combination of unripe green tomatoes, ginger, spices (heavy on the cumin, coriander, and mustard), garlic, a bit of sugar, spicy peppers, and some apple cider vinegar to bring it all together. Then I canned it. In one variation I split the tomatoes with some pears.

You'd think I was trying to take shitty pictures.

Appetizers are served.

What do I eat this with? Oh, about everything. Above you can see it dressing up cheese and crackers. I've also mixed it with rice and chicken. I've put it on sandwiches - even egg sandwiches. I've eaten it with naan and spinach. I've mixed it with whatever is in the crockpot for some added depth of flavor. I'm clearly diggin this stuff.

When I give it as a gift this Christmas I'll want to add a card with some recipe suggestions, so what I'm doing is technically research. Research, people. Not gorging.

Politics later, yellow skirt now

I've been spending a strange amount of time learning about American politics. I'm attempting drastic open-mindedness. I'd like to write about it sometime, but I'm still working things out. So far I've recognized that the Republican party has a big thing for God. They also seem to think "pro-life" and being in favor of the death penalty are mutually exclusive. My head hurts. More later.

For now, let's enjoy this pleated yellow skirt.

Hello little pleats. Thanks for the sunshine.

Carrie wears this in the 2nd season while she's pondering if all unmarried men her age are freaks. One bad date after another has her worrying that all the good ones are taken. But then she finds a nice guy... Ben. Then she wears this outfit on a double date (and the morning after the date). I love the slight preppiness and yellow cheeriness. I love the holey knit scarf (stay tuned for its blue sister). I love the grassy green and yellow combo. The coat has a 90's collar but other than that it's not so bad. Kinda surprisingly, this is the first outfit that turns my head (in a good way) in the entire series up to this episode.

Listen up, blondies -- layer your yellows like no other gal can.

Mod Dots

I somehow expected ModCloth would have lots of stylish items with polka dots. They had a few. What caught my eye mostly was this blouse on the left. I like it. Makes me want to study hard on a bench under a tree with glasses on. I also love this dress on the right, although it's probably too short for my comfort. No thanks. Cool shape and color though.

Somehow I'd like to find items like these, but not imported and made with higher quality materials. Oh, and affordable. File this under *impossible*.

Possession of good brandy and martini skills required.

Color scheming

Happy Halloween, 2012! Do you like Halloween? I enjoy the sight of kids dressed up and leftover candy. But this isn't about that.

This picture with the roses is extra, mega appealing to me. I keep thinking about the color palate. I like the coolness of it, the lightness, the crispness, yet the drama, the dark, the mysterious and tantalizing.

So over to my paint palate. I'm simply trying to match the color in the picture:

The pink selection did not disappoint. For green, however, I felt the options were more limited, and no one shade was exactly right. Perhaps the greens are complicated and you gotta layer them a bit. 

For the backdrop I liked this dark wallpaper. It kinda gives the hint of blue sky (although it's just billed as "black"). Altogether I would love this palate for a daytime daydreaming den or napping nook. So dreamy. 

Enjoy.

Perfection

Leaving LA at 4 am on a Super Shuttle van, Simon and Garfunkel blaring from the speakers, and every person who joins the van has an air of a story. A reason they need this shuttle. A hope that we don't speed off the road on a sharp turn. A hope they can get an empty seat next to them on the plane.

The Simon and Garfunkel was perfection. It was exactly what I didn't know I wanted then and there. It made me beam inwardly, as I probably projected a dumb/crazy look outward. Or maybe I looked peaceful. It was the bow on my LA escapade. It fit. 

Random songs that you didn't choose, hitting the mood so hard, your chest swells. Don't you just love that?

Update to an ode

It has come to my attention that "bun-helper" might be a Google search term for butt shaping.

Hahahahahahahaaaahahahhahaaaa

PS -- SQUATS.

Speaking of soft pink

Don't forget to stop and smell the roses:

what a lovely color scheme

Speaking of cardigans

This is Carrie in a cardigan. Carrie doesn't do cardigans like Ann Taylor does cardigans. Carrie doesn't do cardigans like the school teacher stereotype. Carrie doesn't do cardigans like I do most winter work days, when I fear that I must look professional (AKA uninviting of all potential comments) while maintaining cottony comfort.

She tends to pair them with unexpected underlayers - baggy sheer tops or logo tees or tight tanks. She adds... whimsy. She adds an element of rock 'n' roll - even in soft pink. Color me inspired.

In this scene she's telling her friends about the over-the-top romantic things her artist boyfriend does for her. The episode is called "The Ick Factor". Spoiler alert -- Miranda proposes to Steve AND they get married. Charlotte and Harry get food poisoning. Samantha wears a skunk. God I love Season 6.

Confessions of a non-hipster / Generation Whatever

At the ripe age of 32, I'm too old to be a hipster. Most of my friends are as well. As a member of this crowd just older than hipsters, I feel like I'm supposed to not like them. Hipsters get made fun of all the time. But men in skinny jeans with bad facial hair and buttoned up plaid shirts and cardigans... as targets... it's just too easy. I like a challenge.

I should confess that I was once the roommate of a hipster. This was before the term was coined. My little friend was younger than me, eschewing college, and prone to employ five finger discounts from Anthropologie. She wore funny clothes that made me scared the 80's were coming back (and did not understand why I might be scared about that). Her friends all had long bangs and the latest iPods and several part time jobs. Some were even vegans who made exceptions for bacon (I just made that up). They were nice. I always suspected they viewed me, a graduate student in cargo pants who paid bills on time, as an oddity as well.

But I don't begrudge hipsters. They give us shit like this, and this, and this, and this. They unknowingly have aided in the resurgence of grunge-wear. They're like new age hippies with a mastery of dirty hair and absence of health insurance. We should be supporting our hipster brethren. We'll need their contributions to social security one day.

Frankly I think all the hipster-bashing is jealousy that our generation (after mainstream X, before hipsters, and yes, I'm rejecting "Y" and "Millennials" for being too derivative) is lacking in a true name. I therefore have named us the Whatevers.

Like, hipsters? Whatever.

Locket love

Somehow somewhere somewhy I got it into my head that if a boyfriend in my life gave me a locket it'd be a supreme sign that he's "the one". Pretty stupid, right? I love lockets and never wanted to buy one for myself because, unless it's a mourning locket, lockets should be given to you from loved ones. Stupid, right? Which romantic comedy poisoned me I still don't know.

Behold some pretty kickass lockets I found on Etsy:

1-Compass, 2-Virgo, 3-Simple, 4-Poison, 5-Map, 6-Wallpaper, 7-Milk glass

Ode to bun-helper

Bun-helper is my most visited post by a really wide margin:

This is a glimpse of what blogger lets me see as a blog owner.

I guess people are trying to get really cool buns on their heads and are looking for help in achieving that look. It would make sense that "bun-helper" is a natural thing to type into the google machine.

Do you remember the first thing you typed into an internet search engine? That's another post.

Back to buns. Thank You!! Thank you to those who have come here and stayed here due to bun help. If you have any questions at all about buns please leave a comment and I'll be sure to give you my thoughts. 

As you can see I have very, very few viewers and I can expect that 1/3 of the viewers (readers) are myself and 1/4 are friends that I've told about this, which leaves 5/12 unknown- wow! addition of fractions with an uncommon denominator!

I originally began writing this blog as a way to talk to my friends who live far away. Friends are amazing... friends are everything. In the course of one day I always find myself wishing I could share or laugh with a friend. This blog was created for me to release what I might say to them. I've told just a handful of friends about this notebook / letter of mine, and it pains me to know that I wish I could tell more. I am still working out the kinks of that fear (but that's a different post).

But anyway, this is the ode to bun-helper. I'd like to offer bun people something more in case they stumble upon this post. Here it is -- some perspective -- not everyone likes our buns. Seriously. I've received some negative comments regarding how a high cool bun might not be "right", which I find kinda astonishing. Because I love it. Because who the fuck cares? Opinions. Everybody's got them. When is it right to impose the negative ones on others? (that's a different post)

So thank you again to bun-helper. May your buns be high and mighty!

Juggling

I have a fantastic idea for what to get your young kid involved in when they look at you with know-it-all boredom.

Juggling.

As an adult, I can't help but notice all the god damned juggling I have to do on a regular basis. Don't forget to get the soap to spray on the aphids and check on friend's garden and unload the back seat of the car and use the avocados before they rot and add that new deadline to next week's calendar. But time moves in a line, and you can only get things done one at a time (multitasking is a myth, yo)... until eventually you stop, leaving things "till later"... always feeling like something is... forgotten.

Some balls don't get caught.

Wake up. Repeat.

Not all days are like this. Hopefully you can shut down your brain once or twice a week and on vacations and such. That's important. I hear meditation helps achieve full, restorative shut-down. That'd be nice.

But juggling. I have to think that somehow, probably pertaining to the circuitry of the brain, learning to juggle at a young age must be a good exercise for the games of adulthood. And chess of course.

Can anyone attest to this?

Fall travels

Scotland in Fall

If I had my act together months ago I'd be traveling somewhere this Fall. Actually, I can't seem to escape these thoughts that I'm a lunatic/loser/idiot for not traveling whilst I have a job with vacation days and no kids to buy plane tickets for. What do I fear? Culture? Hell no. I love that shit. It probably has something to do with spending money. Today, watching someone as qualified as me get laid off, probably won't help alleviate that fear. Another problem is not really knowing how to turn off my brain, thus enabling enjoying a vacation.

It's starting to sound like backpacking might be the vacation for me.

Here's hoping you have your act together, the ability to shut off the thinking, and enough money to make it easy.

Please don't offer to show me your vacation pictures.

Glam it up

Dress orgasms from award shows past:

Links probably not necessary, all from Google Images.

What's in a cup

I like to go to the local charity shop and look for cheap treasures that I will bring home, leave in a bag on the floor, and forget about for 6-10 months.

A few weeks ago I found this:

I know this doesn't look like much, but it's the teacup version of my dad's coffee cup (which he only uses for tea). To be more specific, this is "Dad's Mug". Same pattern. Same maker. Same texture. Same heft. Same heart.

It's like a nostalgia bomb, discovered 1,000 miles away from the kitchen of my youth. For 75 cents.

When I use it I can quietly hear my dad telling me not to leave it on the counter.

Owie

I've sorta been flirting with how out of shape I can get, and it's finally, truly, bit me in the ass. Allow me to explain.

Two days ago I got a cold -- no big deal -- but two days ago I also went to my pottery class for the first time in 8 months. Much to my dismay the wheels there are too high for me. I can't get the proper leverage and balance from having my left elbow on my left leg... so I do it sitting down yet on tippy toes. This does not work well, but I don't see any way to lower the wheel. Raising my seat doesn't help the problem, and there's a flywheel next to my feet, so there's no safe room to prop up my foot.

There are other, lower wheels (electric ones) but they are taken. Normally I'd roll with this and just do some handbuilding.

But I didn't. I made two slightly off-centered bowls. Life was fine.

Until yesterday. My calves, my left knee, my forearms, my upper arms, my shoulders, my hands, they are all screaming. I'm walking at like 1 mile per hour. The pain has begun radiating to my torso.

This must be what adults mean when they say as you get older, your recovery time gets longer. I've never felt so old. Clock it - 32 and I'm old.

Think my doctor will prescribe a muscle relaxer for me over the phone?

Update -- a day and a half into the pain I remember ibuprofen exists. Life is now a lot better.

Workhorse accessories

One of my goals is to subsist entirely on a very small set of awesome, me things. In cultivating this set I'm all about unique, workhorse things that set you apart and serve you well.

For example, the circle pendant gold necklace that goes with everything:

This is Carrie in Season 3, traipsing around town as she dates her new boyfriend, Aidan. Aidan is not the right guy for her, but this isn't about that. This is about a strong, sexy, circle. 

 
In building my own small collection of workhorse accessories, I too am experimenting with necklaces. I've learned that I like somewhat dainty necklaces - not too weighty or long. I like natural stones and shapes. I like gold. I like clasps that don't fall to the front easily. Sometimes, just sometimes, something will stick, and it's like you've grown a friend. Yet somehow knowing all this doesn't keep me from having 2 dozen necklaces I love and rarely wear.

Minimalism seems impossible. Guess it feels good to have back-up flair.

Foray into boyhood

There is so much I can say about this post. So many ways to take it. I'll focus on color...

Walking about in Maine earlier this summer, I saw a color combination that I had to remember:

I stared and stared until I saw the color palette of a little boy's bedroom:

All paint samples are from the easy-to-use Benjamin Moore paint color site. For the art I scoured Etsy art prints with keywords yellow and orange. This was kinda tedious, but I found neat underwater prints and a hella cool abstract map of some area in Boston. Wicked.

My dreamhouse is designed with two upstairs bedrooms for kids. Since the rooms each have a bathroom they can be rented out (when the kids move away and you start your commune) or used as kick-ass guest rooms. (Seriously, how awesome is it to have a private bathroom when you're a guest.) Barring major makeover, it's important to decide on a transitional look.

I wanted to keep the colors soothing so the kid wouldn't spaz out in there, but vibrant enough to invoke imagination. This is primarily a sleeping room. A room of solace. My kid can come play with me in the kitchen or go outside and catch bugs. The colors aim for a neutral personality -- one to grow upon -- one to inspire calm, intelligence, and creativity. 

The bolder elements are to be supplied, with time, by the beautiful child.

Looks I get

Growth

Having a garden is an amazing experience. As it grows, you grow. No need to think, "as it fails, you fail," because that doesn't happen. Ever. Gardens don't fail. They just go untended sometimes.

Here's my garden as of late-August (right), compared to my garden from mid-June (left).

In the front are lots of marigolds and herbs. Behind them my cruciferous vegetables. Cruciferous probably means crucify (cruci) those who eat the iron-rich (ferous) plant... possibly due to bad smells. Behind this is my beet square (2nd beet crop of year). Three Brussels sprouts line my right side (next to neighboring weeds) and red cabbages line the left side. Also includes: jalapeno, fennel, celery, catnip, arugula, purslane, flowers.

F-yeah

Lucite furniture

One way I know my sanity is in check is my dislike of Lucite furniture. When I see Lucite I think of petroleum. Yet many blogs, books, and magazines that cultivate what is chic and modern and stylish are telling me that hard clear plastic pieces, when used sparingly, are a real "it" component. It's hard to explain, but it feels good to look inside myself and see that I don't agree. To notice and identify your artistic inclinations can be very life affirming.

Top 10 Lucite pieces, if you say so.

The word Lucite is really just a trade name for a useful polymer. Another is Plexiglas. To make 1 pound of it takes about 2 pounds of petroleum, the internet tells me. It will burn completely to carbon dioxide and water. That's some good party trivia for you.

While looking at Lucite pieces to hate, I found a room that I insanely love. This is me. This is how I never knew I picture my dream living room. Thank you, Lucite.

Just add a bright splash of color with fresh flowers and give me my tea.

I suppose, thanks to the picture above, that clear plastic furniture isn't an abomination. But it will never be my first choice. Give me wood, stone, glass, art glass! Give me nature. Give me the beet, not the bleached sugar. Ya know?

Truth in wine

There's nothing like half a bottle of red wine to make you want to call all your friends and tell them how much you love them... but you're not drunk enough to forget that picking up the phone will kill your buzz.

I should really join Twitter. How many characters was that?

But seriously, have some red wine before calling your mom on her birthday, and shit like that. It helps the love flow.

Some of us could use the lubrication.

Floorplans

Getting the floor plan of your dreamhome right is like 90% of the making of the house. Everything relies on the efficient and feel-good use of space. Walls and plumbing don't easily adjust for experimentation, so it's important to get them right from the start.

Although ever-evolving, here are 2 of the 3 levels of my dreamhouse. These are just the walls... you'll have to use your imagination to know what all the rooms are for. Or you can write to me and I'll sell you the details for a few million dollars.

Left, Google SketchUp 1st floor (entry level / street level).
Right, PowerPoint 2nd floor (1st if you're in the UK I think).

The floorplan on the left (and below) was made using Google SketchUp. I didn't take the tutorial, and I gotta say that getting used to the program was hard. Progress was slow. At present I barely know how to use the functions that create 3-D spaces out of my 2-D one. It's also hard to edit and follow the sizes of the boxes and lines you are drawing. The floorplan on the right is made of boxes I laid over a picture of the first floor plan in PowerPoint. I know Powerpoint like the back of my hand.

In SketchUp you can spin around the property like a bird and turn this into 3-D.

Favorite Season - Fall

September, October, November, and December combine to give us a perennial finale in our calendar year.

Fall is awesome.

I love love the final quarter of the calendar year. Many people agree with me on this one. The weather is nice. There's lots to celebrate. You can begin watching your favorite cold weather movies and TV shows. Roasting lots of comfort food. Making soups. Enjoying soups with hearty beer and bread. I could go on forever, especially if I start naming root vegetables.

Hello, Fall. Welcome.

So Happy Fall to you and yours! May you have the perfect blanket and lots of apple crisp.

Refuse to believe

I refuse to believe that this is the best corn on the cob I could ever have. I don't like hyperbole in instances where people are listening and believing. Play it straight - this is very good corn on the cob.

But the real reason I'm cooking this rant is that people need to know that the microwave is the superior vessel for heating delicious corn on the cob (provided you're cooking fresh good corn).

Yes. I said it. The microwave. For two reasons.

People sometimes act like the microwave is some dangerous magical box wherein airborne radioactive chemical waves heat your food with zaps and beeping. It's really just a device producing radio waves that fly through the air and wiggle the water molecules they find in food. I like to think about it like water molecules turning on some music and dancing their bonds off, working up some heat. But back to corn on the cob... Corn on the cob is often boiled, which dilutes the flavor a bit, don't you think? (If not, taste the corn water after cooking.) Microwaving, on the other hand, seems to seal in the inherent corn flavor because the kernels are heating up within themselves and steaming inside the husks.

The microwave is also vastly simpler than any other way of cooking corn. You just take off the outermost leaves of the corn cob, chop the ends down so the corn can rotate in the microwave, microwave normally for 2 minutes, let rest, touch, if not pretty warm microwave for another minute. Total time will depend on your microwave and the amount of corn you have in there (I've done up to 2 at a time). When cool enough to handle you just peel it, butter and salt it, and eat it.

I'm still debating if fresh black pepper belongs on fresh hot corn, and I'm leaning yes.

Purslane!!

Perhaps one of the best surprises of my summer has been the discovery of purslane. It first came to me in my CSA box and looked oddly familiar....... This is the damn weed that's crawling around my garden. I was picking out and tossing this albeitly-cool Martian succulent left and right. Not Any More.

Correctly identifying my garden purslane of course worried me, but proved easy enough. The first time I ate mine I made sure people knew about my experiment = = good general laboratory practice. 

Have a tranquil day

Or just flow with it.

[Postscript: I had no clue this video had sound! I link sea plants with ultimately tranquility (and motion!), and this sound is not so pleasing. Now if only could remove it...]

Angel

I sometimes think this cat must be an angel of all that is good.

Hippy Carrie

If you ask me, Carrie does well with a summer tan, blonde streaks, and flower-child clothing. It's a bit rare that she goes this way full throttle, and I love it every time. In this scene Charlotte goes to Carrie crying her face off because her date fell asleep while they were "making love". When you fuck, of course, you tend not to have that problem, Samantha or Miranda will say.

Charlotte is devastated and Carrie is doing her best not to laugh while offering up some herbal tea.

You're a hardcore SATC fan if you knew about the herbal tea just by looking at these screen captures.

I don't know the correct classification for this look. It's somewhat hippy. Maybe bohemian. It's loose, colorful, playful, casual, and relaxed. A tough line to toe. And I like it.