tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-144215802024-03-13T04:52:31.194-07:00Lipstick on Your TeethAlisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.comBlogger381125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-36121278954555442062016-01-12T08:21:00.001-08:002016-01-12T08:21:34.195-08:00I've movedIf you're still reading here, give yourself a pat on the back for your sticktoitiveness.
I've started a new site. Please come say hello at <a href="https://thlvngrm.wordpress.com">The Living Room</a>. Hope to see you soon!Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-31829954015175262812011-08-19T07:14:00.000-07:002011-08-19T07:23:24.868-07:00Scarf it upNow that my hair is short again, it's super easy to get incredibly bored with it. <div>
<br /></div><div>Sometimes I watch pin curl or braiding tutorials just so I can sit there and feel sorry for my Justin Bieber-tressed self.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>But really, I do love having short hair. It's easy, it looks the same every day. It's possible to dye it lots of damaging colors without having to worry about years of hard hair-growing work going down the drain.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Even better is that I've now discovered Scarving! Tutorials! </div><div>
<br /></div><div>This means a) I have a new thrift/vintage shopping obsession b) My hair isn't cramping my head's flamboyant style anymore and c) I can wear EVEN MORE of my grandma's stuff. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I'm sporting this look right now with a vintage Hermes key scarf (this is hands-down the fanciest thing I've ever written about myself): </div><div>
<br /></div><div><iframe width="560" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gjyLJ27SJjk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div><div>
<br /></div><div>It's super easy and I didn't swear once when trying to do it. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Also, this <a href="http://medias.hermes.com/files/playtime/playtime_hermes_scarf.pdf">Hermes scarf tutorial</a> is the business. I mean, a purse? Seriously so great. I'm off to hunt for silk and scarf rings. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Oh, and also also. I'll pay anyone to try that JLo dress-scarf getup and send me a picture. That one is pretty intense, even as a bathing suit cover up. </div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-70357811131149514782011-04-28T09:45:00.000-07:002011-04-28T10:59:24.536-07:00And the moon rose over an open field<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YACXVm6L_EQ/TbmoHiQu60I/AAAAAAAACKA/dhKNHmT4cx8/s1600/bus.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YACXVm6L_EQ/TbmoHiQu60I/AAAAAAAACKA/dhKNHmT4cx8/s400/bus.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600692459021462338" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ever since I was a kid, I've been a little bit obsessed with RVs (and to a degree houseboats). My first love was an intense one-sided affair with the shiny silver Airstream that was permanently parked in a driveway down the block. I was so enthralled that when I was 20, I got a book about the history of Airstreams as a Christmas present and considered it the great gift of the year. (</span><a href="http://www.lastgasp.com/d/11155/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">you can get it here</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">)</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And before I could even drive, there were many years I would beg--and then drag--my parents to the boat, sport and travel show so I could scamper around all of the campers and double wides and fantasize about living in one someday. There's just something about everything being so small and efficient...and </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">moveable</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. It's like the ultimate Alley-Sheedy-in-The-Breakfast-Club purse turned into a home. After all, </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9TL7LaxyYz4&feature=player_embedded"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">you never know when you may have to jam</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">! </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now that I'm writing about it, I can think of so many things I loved as a child and how they tie back to my love of transportation abodes. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Remember the </span><a href="http://www.roalddahlstore.com/Products/Roald-Dahls-gipsy-caravan---the-inspiration-behind-Danny--the-Champion-of-the-World__9414914011877caravan.aspx"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Gypsy caravan</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Danny and his father call home in </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Danny the Champion of the World</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">? (</span><a href="http://lipstickonyourteeth.blogspot.com/2010/04/caravan.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">more on that here</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">What about the </span><a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/chicago/inspiration/how-many-small-space-ideas-can-you-spot-in-this-trailer-067468"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">motorhome</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Juliette Lewis lives in in </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">What's Eating Gilbert Grape</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">? </span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Or who can forget </span><a href="http://www.mademan.com/mm/5-best-beverly-hills-90210-season-3-moments.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Dylan McKay's dad's houseboat</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> on 90210 (RIP Jack McKay)? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oh, and Maude's sweet-ass </span><a href="http://www.filminamerica.com/Movies/HaroldAndMaude/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">railcar apartment</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> in</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Harold and Maude </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">totally counts. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">If you're still with me at this ramble down my weird-kid memory lane, you have to read </span><i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Travels_with_Charley:_In_Search_of_America"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Travels with Charley: In Search of America</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, one of my all-time favorite books. It's John Steinbeck's account of exploring the country in a camper with his standard poodle Charley. </span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A quintessential indoor kid (my parents used to punish me for reading too much by making me call friends to come over and do legitimate, real-people activities with me), I was a Steinbeck nut, PLUS we had a standard poodle (RIP Mr. T), so this book really resonated with me. I think it's what made me decide my dream job would be to drive around the country and have a syndicated newspaper column where I interviewed different people for a kind of "slice of life" feature, and it's probably at least partially responsible for my journalism degree. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ahh, and here I am today: A mobile home non-owner (I don't think we can count the Caravan, as tempting as that is), and the only writing I do is on this-here blog, which is becoming more infrequent. Crap, I don't even have a toy poodle, let alone a Standard. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">All of this is a big preface to a few things that have popped up (like a camper--hahahaha...groan) lately to remind me of my all-American (in theory) wanderlust. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- Season 6 of Weeds, in which the characters are on the lam (no spoilers here--motor homes aren't aerodynamic anyway....somebody stop me) and travel from Montana to Michigan in a huge Jesusmobile RV. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- This incredible (and gorgeous!) blog, </span><a href="http://doubledeckerdays.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Double Decker Days</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, in which author Crystal Thomas details her renovation of a 1970s double decker bus with the intention of turning it into a vacation getaway. I love it, love it, love it!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So in summation, this is all what had been rolling around in my head when I told Marc I thought we should rent a motor home and take a few weeks to explore the country at the end of this summer (I want the cats to come with us because I'm totally insane, not just a little bit crazy).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">See, we haven't taken our honeymoon yet, and our original plan was to go to Europe and tourist around, which also sounds lovely. But I can't shake this idea that it would be a lot of fun to, in the words of Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W773ZPJhcVw&feature=related"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">walk off to look for America</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Who knows what will happen. Thoughts? Pros 'n cons? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(image from Double Decker Days)</span></i></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-55902742981135613652011-04-22T09:15:00.000-07:002011-04-22T09:21:36.810-07:00In the eye of the beholder<div>Super interesting post on <a href="http://poppressed.com/features/the-apartment-of-chloe-sevigny/">Chloe Sevigny's apartment, photographed for two different publications.</a></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZH1cufx5vT8/TbGqkXHxPDI/AAAAAAAACJ4/hdclFhY52FU/s1600/chloesevignyhouseandgarden1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZH1cufx5vT8/TbGqkXHxPDI/AAAAAAAACJ4/hdclFhY52FU/s400/chloesevignyhouseandgarden1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598443353456852018" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lebDI10WS1U/TbGqkOeA-AI/AAAAAAAACJw/pyp4wmbjVXc/s1600/chloe-sevigny-apartment-in-bed.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lebDI10WS1U/TbGqkOeA-AI/AAAAAAAACJw/pyp4wmbjVXc/s400/chloe-sevigny-apartment-in-bed.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598443351134238722" /></a><a href="http://poppressed.com/features/the-apartment-of-chloe-sevigny/">House and Garden 2007 vs. Apartamento 2009. </a><div><br /></div><div>Which do you prefer? <br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-44744080865571405842010-12-10T12:44:00.000-08:002010-12-10T12:48:10.754-08:00Presented without commentary<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TQKRcuDG0DI/AAAAAAAACJg/4_-rwNdROEE/s1600/CraigslistFurniture_600.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TQKRcuDG0DI/AAAAAAAACJg/4_-rwNdROEE/s400/CraigslistFurniture_600.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549157613457297458" /></a><br /><em>(click to enlarge)</em><br /><br /><a href="http://lunchbreath.com/cartoons/how-to-describe-your-used-furniture-on-craigslist-2">How to describe your used furniture on Craigslist</a>.<br /><br />Thanks so much for sending this, Nate! It made my day.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-31329709927171469272010-12-09T17:08:00.000-08:002010-12-09T17:41:59.542-08:00Some thingsGizang* (of 81...that's inmazing--that means inconceivably amazing--I will be sending a present to my 100th follower), I've been working on a post that's been chilling in my drafts for about three weeks now and I can't seem to get myself to finish it, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fatality_%28Mortal_Kombat%29">Mortal Kombat</a> style. <br /><br />It's not like it's some epically awesome or even personally wrenching post. It just involves a lot of copying and pasting and is actually about design and interiors and stuff that actually fits into the format of the current incarnation of this blog. But it's just taking me my sweet-ass time for some reason. Maybe I need to stop cruising around the block in my Caravan, trying to start some fringe religion--because hey! I have the church bus all ready, so why not? That will solve my airbrush conundrum.#<br /><br />* Speaking of copying and pasting...I looked up and had originally written "prize for my 100th follower" and decided I wanted to change it to "present for my 100th follower" since it's not like this blog is a sweepstakes and the "iz" in prize somehow got copied into the opening word of this post, thus altering "Gang" into "Gizang," which I like and am keeping. <br /><br />ANYWAY<br /><br />So here's some things in lieu of my real post: <br /><br />1. Thanks so much everyone for your <a href="http://lipstickonyourteeth.blogspot.com/2010/11/young-sneezy.html">words of encouragement for Harvey</a>. I read every one of your comments to him**, and he appreciated it so much, he didn't even lick his ass the whole time I was reading it to him. I took him back to the vet on Tuesday, and even though he's feeling much better, he's now on two more meds (For those keeping score at home, that's three pills, two types of eye drops and one type of powder. One of my co-workers said with all these lame drugs lying around, it's like I live with a really shitty band.)<br /><br />2. If I were a fairy (faerie?) and left magic dust wherever I went, in addition to rainbow glitter, mine would be littered with bobby pins and clear hair ties. They're all over our house....Marc opened a book last night and a couple of each fell out and I swear I found two bobby pins in the dishwasher this morning. <br /><br />3. After almost choking on a hard-boiled egg earlier this week, I'm pretty sure that's how I'm going to die when I'm home alone and left with my own devices. Remember when that lady died on Six Feet Under when she choked on her dinner? And Miranda on Sex and the City also almost did eating Chinese food? That's going to be me. Also, what was the deal with early-aughts HBO shows being obsessed with single ladies choking? And with shows that started with S-x? <br /><br />ANYWAY ANYWAY<br /><br />My situation is only made worse by my nightly ritual of slathering lotion on my raptor-claw dry hands and then deciding that my lips also deserve to be as adequately lubricated. Once my hands are all lotioned up, there's no way I can pry off the top of any sort of lip balm, so I end up violently biting the lid off in frustration and almost swallowing it in the process. Now I'm paralyzed by the vision of Marc snoozing away in the room next door while I stagger around the bathroom clawing at my throat and desperately trying to give myself the Heimlich but our counter is too low and I keel over and conk my head on the toilet. <br /><br />So yeah, maybe I should occupy my time and hands with writing that legit post instead of fretting about all this. Thanks for bearing with me. <br /><br /># One of my friends dubbed the van "The Dreamcatcher," which I love. I think that name will inform what's airbrushed on the sides. But thanks from the bottom of my heart for <a href="http://lipstickonyourteeth.blogspot.com/2010/12/rollin-in-my-94.html">your rad suggestions</a>.<br /><br />** This is a lie. I'm a crazy cat lady, but I'm not nuts enough to read blog comments to my cat. Yet. But seriously, thanks. It means a ton.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-9714608851778755442010-12-02T13:55:00.000-08:002010-12-02T15:17:07.633-08:00Rollin' in my 94<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TPge5N87EXI/AAAAAAAACI4/NK_QGYttMcg/s1600/1994%2BDodge%2BCaravan%2BBlue.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TPge5N87EXI/AAAAAAAACI4/NK_QGYttMcg/s400/1994%2BDodge%2BCaravan%2BBlue.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546216909453332850" /></a><br />A few weeks ago, I left a comment on <a href="http://mylittleapartment.blogspot.com/">My Little Apartment</a> (addicted! to that blog, btdubs) about how much I love <a href="http://chicago.craigslist.org/">Craigslist</a> and how it’s been the most consistently positive factor in my life for the past five years, but I don’t think I ever fully spun that yarn here. <br /><br />I know I’ve mentioned that just about every piece of furniture in my house is from CL (except our bed because…ick), but that’s just the tip of the iceberg, really. <br /><br />About four years ago, I was working in marketing at a gigantic accounting firm, where I made some wonderful friends. One friend would always complain about how she could never find any dateable guys. So each morning, I’d scour Craigslist for the gnarliest, creepiest m4w ad and send it on over to her (we’re talking “I’m in jail right now, but I’ll be out in four to six. Need someone to take care of my kids while I’m in here” or “420 in my garden apartment?”). One day, I saw an ad featuring a cute guy who was just looking for some people to go to the movies in Grant Park with him. I almost forwarded it along, but then I got to thinking…<br /><br />A couple months’ prior, I had gotten out of a years’ long relationship. I thought about it a second and decided I should probably start going on dates again and this would be the guy to get things started. It’s not like I was going to marry him or anything. <br /><br />So yeah, I ended up marrying him. My wedding toast was a sincere and heartfelt salute to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Craig_Newmark">Craig Newmark</a>. <br /><br />Before we got married, I moved in with him (and out of the apartment I shared with my wonderful Craigslist-found roommate) and we furnished our home with many a CL score. And then I moved on from the gigantor accounting firm to <a href="http://aestheticmovement.com/">my job</a> via a Craigslist ad. (Hey! Here’s an article that quotes <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/02/garden/02gift.html">my company’s founder in today’s Times</a>. Neat).<br /><br />The latest development: I’m pregnant and if it’s a boy we’re naming him Craig. Hell, if it’s a girl we probably will too. <br /><br />Ha, just kidding. No babies just yet. Don’t freak. <br /><br />The latest development is that over Thanksgiving my husband’s awesome aunt and uncle gave us a super sweet 1994 Dodge Caravan that I’ve already been using to haul around my scavenged treasures. It’s so bad ass. Craigslist will never know what hit it. <br /><br />And yes, I’m taking suggestions of what to get airbrushed on the side.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-194933137494116052010-11-30T18:28:00.000-08:002010-11-30T18:45:23.818-08:00Young SneezyThis is my cat Harvey.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TPW2j2B51sI/AAAAAAAACIw/CE229IvB5yg/s1600/012.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TPW2j2B51sI/AAAAAAAACIw/CE229IvB5yg/s400/012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545539243091809986" /></a><br />That is a big ball of dryer lint on his head. <br /><br />I know I talk about him a from time to time on my weblog. But can everyone think strong thoughts and send healthy vibes his way, please? <br /><br />He has a rare blood disorder that makes him anemic, and he's on a new medication that makes his immune system weak, so he's getting all kinds of sick these days. Poor little guy has a runny eye and one hell of a sneeze. And to add insult to injury, he ripped out one of his back claws while running around yesterday.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TPW1nntJ9dI/AAAAAAAACIo/TjPZp9JFVZ0/s1600/016.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TPW1nntJ9dI/AAAAAAAACIo/TjPZp9JFVZ0/s400/016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545538208454538706" /></a> <br /><br />Meds he's now on: Prednisone, Atopica, Amoxicillin, Lysine and Genteal Severe Dry Eye drops. It's a pretty rigorous meds schedule. I may have to get one of those pill holder things. <br /><br />Get better, little guy!Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-6795948287223756952010-11-16T19:22:00.000-08:002010-11-17T06:44:03.371-08:00Here's lookin' at you, kidSometimes when you've had a rough day and have been kinda lame, don't you like to congratulate yourself on something easy? Like having good taste*? <br /><br />It's like the normal person equivalent of getting a softball question on <span style="font-style:italic;">Meet the Press</span>. So what that I'm not all brushed up on whether or not India should have a permanent seat on the U.N. Security Council? At least I'm never going to get accused of hanging <a href="http://www.amazon.com/New-View-Because-People-Frame/dp/B001URL94I">this nonsense</a> all up in my crib. <br /><br />With that, I give you winkers: <br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JyYhdY-A_Hs?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JyYhdY-A_Hs?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />Today, I wore some men's Nautica plaid flannel pants and a bright green t-shirt from Old Navy, not to mention some chenille socks with rubber feet (so I can step outside and fetch the mail, natch) and I feel pretty snazzy right about now. It's all relative, gang. <br /><br />*I kind of balk at the term "good taste." It's so subjective, and I'm sure people think I'm a spaz monster tornado of crap tastes. I like when people get <a href="http://www.slate.com/id/2274719/">jazzy with their clothes</a>, so I think it's way nicer to say people have different taste than I do. That being said, winkers are off-the-charts wackadoo.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-65881420998456644612010-11-15T07:42:00.001-08:002010-11-16T19:21:44.878-08:00Only in dreams<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TONKQ_houCI/AAAAAAAACIA/Q1aKqWyj_hg/s1600/6a0111688f7c55970c0133f40a2fdb970b-500wi.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TONKQ_houCI/AAAAAAAACIA/Q1aKqWyj_hg/s400/6a0111688f7c55970c0133f40a2fdb970b-500wi.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540353622386718754" /></a><br />Last night I had a nightmare so frightening I was whimpering in my sleep and Marc had to wake me up and calm me down. <br /><br />I the light of day, it's not at all that scary--I was sleeping in my childhood bed and some intruders were trying to break in from the balcony. And now all I can think about is how much better the balcony doors were in my dream than they are in real life--leaded glass, transom, no ugly cream eyelet curtains. <br /><br />Screw the intruders, I want that balcony back!Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-10913657882811251112010-11-10T19:58:00.000-08:002010-11-10T20:04:48.223-08:00BenchwarmerI'm in another city, so that basically means I'm out of the Craigslist game for the rest of the week. But I can't help myself from poking at it like it's a hornet's nest I found lying on the ground.<br /><br />And oh boy does it sting. <a href="http://chicago.craigslist.org/nch/fuo/2051668802.html">I want these doors</a>. Want. Them. <br /><br />I have no place and no plan for them, but I just know my life would be much more complete if I could only add "pair of carriage doors" to my ever-growing pile of treasures.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-28602598278458606022010-11-09T13:49:00.000-08:002010-11-09T13:56:26.168-08:00I can and I did*<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNnDcSJfpoI/AAAAAAAACH4/MzSlnOJY_Jo/s1600/20936_323881957578_154462667578_3566805_8240871_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 343px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNnDcSJfpoI/AAAAAAAACH4/MzSlnOJY_Jo/s400/20936_323881957578_154462667578_3566805_8240871_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537672107504150146" /></a><br />I bought a package of Oreos* on Sunday and just polished off the last cookie about five minutes ago. I thought it would be a good idea to eat the whole thing before I went out of town. Like they would go bad or something. Who does that? I guess this means no one can ever say I'm not goal oriented. Eh? Ugh...<br /><br />*But I probably never should do this again.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-31120994032719537352010-11-08T06:13:00.000-08:002010-11-08T07:06:42.887-08:00This weekendThis weekend, I believe Marc and I singlehandedly--I guess that would be doublehandedly, technically--pulled the U.S. economy out of this nasty recession. What started out low key enough with a BYOB Indian dinner on Friday ended in an ORGY OF RETAIL CONSUMPTION (albeit a very tame one). <br /><br />It was a good weekend (Except for the fight we got in Sunday night at Target about leggings. What have you done to the fabric of America, Lindsay Lohan?)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNgPSx-1LcI/AAAAAAAACHw/QpFMK2Y-Vhg/s1600/clogs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNgPSx-1LcI/AAAAAAAACHw/QpFMK2Y-Vhg/s400/clogs.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537192557180956098" /></a><br />I got these adorable clogs on sale at <a href="http://www.anthropologie.com/anthro/catalog/productdetail.jsp?subCategoryId=&id=18301481&catId=SHOPSALE-SHOES&pushId=SHOPSALE-SHOES&popId=SHOPSALE&sortProperties=&navCount=45&navAction=top&fromCategoryPage=true&selectedProductSize=&selectedProductSize1=&color=004&isSubcategory=&isProduct=true&isBigImage=&templateType=">Anthropologie</a>, which means they were still expensive, just not as high as my portion of the mortgage. They're so very comfortable and I think it's true love. If you're a size 7 or 9, they can be yours too. We can be shoe twins. <br /><br />No pictures yet, but I also stopped by the <a href="http://www.jaysonhomeandgarden.com/home.php?cat=72">Jayson Home and Garden warehouse sale</a> and picked up an old schoolhouse light to install above our kitchen sink. Right now, we have one of those <a href="http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/50378900">Ikea Fado</a> deals up there. It's not bad, but it's super hard to change the lightbulb and it's kind of blah and filthy. <br /><br />Jayson Home and Garden is kind of like the Anthropologie of home stores. Stratospherically out of my budget, but it was kind of fun and worth it to go to the warehouse sale for this one item. Plus, there were ladies with dogs in their purses there, which makes any shopping experience extra fancy. Was the light as cheap as a Fado? No way man, but it was a steal at $99 vs. its original $550 (say what!) price tag. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNgPSc89MgI/AAAAAAAACHg/Wdj26MAz1PY/s1600/threependants.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 391px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNgPSc89MgI/AAAAAAAACHg/Wdj26MAz1PY/s400/threependants.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537192551535948290" /></a><br />It's not unlike something you'd find at <a href="http://www.schoolhouseelectric.com/">Schoolhouse Electric</a>, but it's the prettiest pale jade green. <br /><br />Not to be outdone, Marc went and <a href="http://www.linusbike.com/">bought himself a bike</a>. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNgPSkUYcRI/AAAAAAAACHo/MOEhv58eyzg/s1600/linus-bike.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNgPSkUYcRI/AAAAAAAACHo/MOEhv58eyzg/s400/linus-bike.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537192553513251090" /></a><br />It's so pretty. I usually don't like new bikes (I had my grandma's 1960s Schwinn until it <a href="http://lipstickonyourteeth.blogspot.com/2007/06/carefully-guarding-my-lunch-money-today.html">got stolen a few years ago</a>, and I replaced it with the exact same bike in red), but it's a really simple and lovely thing. No joke, people were nudging each other and pointing at the bike and stopping him to ask about it when he was walking down the street yesterday. It was like he was strolling around with a super hot lady. My clogs and I were a little jealous. <br /><br />So all of our consumption may mean we're going to be eating lots of canned goods and spending quality time with ye olde Netflix queue, which is more than fine by me. It's getting to be about that time of year in Chicago when everyone hibernates anyway. Ugh. Sick of it. <br /><br />P.S. Posting may be light this week (not that it hasn't been this whole year...but hey, blogging is something free I can do, right?). I'll be in New York until Sunday for work. Have a great week, everybody! <br /><br />P.P.S. I almost forgot--I dyed some chunks of my hair pink! It's so fun. Circa 2000, Gwen Stefani, look out! I'm coming for you!Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-43792566162815939852010-11-05T08:50:00.000-07:002010-11-05T08:54:25.617-07:00The missing linkIt's nothing but sheer laziness, but I don't think I've updated my sidebar links in about two years, so they're horribly, egregiously out of date. Some links don't work, and there are a lot of sites I read that aren't even on there. <br /><br />Plus, I'd love to add yours to the mix so I can check up on what's going on (I love running up and down the links instead of using my Google reader like a normal person). <br /><br />If you're so inclined, (and I don't already link to you), can you let me know in the comments so I can blogstalk you?Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-45901854065126524392010-11-04T08:06:00.000-07:002010-11-04T08:27:13.132-07:00The one that got away? Or dodging a bullet?Promise that this will be my last Michigan-related post for a while!<br /><br />Remember last post where I mentioned that I didn't buy anything because I didn't feel like there were any deals to be had. Well I almost did. We were in an antique mall where I spotted a very neat pull down map of the world. Unlike most classroom maps I've seen, it was rubberized in a slate color so you could write on it like a chalkboard.<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNLPjIGFH0I/AAAAAAAACHY/LkHh17vr29k/s1600/16796m.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNLPjIGFH0I/AAAAAAAACHY/LkHh17vr29k/s400/16796m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535715094367117122" /></a><br />Kind of like so. <br /><br />I thought it was pretty cool, and Marc didn't outright hate it, but it was enough money that I didn't want to just buy it without some haggling, and I didn't have any clue as to what a fair price would be. That night, we researched some comps, but there wasn't much to be found, so I put it aside and told myself to forget about it. <br /><br />That is, until the <span style="font-style:italic;">awesome</span> little part of my brain that loves obsessive research started whining and I found myself searching for more comparables. This time was much more successful (thanks, fine and decorative art appraisal!). It turns out that the price, minus some minor haggling, would have been quite reasonable. <br /><br />And now the facts get in the way: <br /><br />1. I don't know if I want to drive back to Michigan, even if it is only 1 1/2 hours away. What if it's not there? When will I find time to go?<br />2. We need more stuff on our walls like I need another swan figurine (which is to say not at ALL)<br />3. Um, <a href="http://www.restorationhardware.com/catalog/product/product.jsp?productId=prod70042">this</a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNLPi5XflZI/AAAAAAAACHQ/rxfc06cZI2Q/s1600/blurgh.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 390px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TNLPi5XflZI/AAAAAAAACHQ/rxfc06cZI2Q/s400/blurgh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535715090413622674" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.restorationhardware.com/catalog/product/product.jsp?productId=prod70042">Seriously, Restoration Hardware</a>? I fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) found this while researching. Maybe I'm being a snob, but this makes the real deal map (and by extension me) feel so much dorkier. <br /><br />What's in store for me? A roadtrip, or spitballs in my general direction?Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-88292370766111298302010-11-01T05:44:00.000-07:002010-11-01T09:07:51.240-07:00I found you!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM67-Z7pYFI/AAAAAAAACHI/D0t_FtpmTNo/s1600/IMG_1262.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM67-Z7pYFI/AAAAAAAACHI/D0t_FtpmTNo/s400/IMG_1262.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534567672872263762" /></a><br />While our weekend trip to Southwest Michigan was wonderful, I found the shopping to be a bit lacking. Shit was crayspensive! On the hunting and gathering scale, I definitely lean toward the thrifting end of things, and this scene was most definitely full-on antiquing. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM66_Ih7bXI/AAAAAAAACGo/iUzPCIwmG6k/s1600/IMG_2921.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 353px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM66_Ih7bXI/AAAAAAAACGo/iUzPCIwmG6k/s400/IMG_2921.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534566585869233522" /></a><br />So, after settling comfortably into window-shopping mode, I really did enjoy myself. And if I had to part with any of my sweaty, crumpled wad of cash, it definitely would have been at <a href="http://www.marcopoloantiques.com/">Marco Polo</a>. The pretty would just not stop. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM66-1y12KI/AAAAAAAACGg/t2ng1C3CFGU/s1600/IMG_3054.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 338px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM66-1y12KI/AAAAAAAACGg/t2ng1C3CFGU/s400/IMG_3054.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534566580839897250" /></a><br />More than that, the owners have serious vision, plucking things out of obscurity that I would have definitely passed over a million times. It gave me a whole new focus for re-stocking the shop (which <span style="font-style:italic;">will</span> happen soon). They also happen to be incredibly nice and friendly. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM66-vtlosI/AAAAAAAACGY/zT7o1UMDJEA/s1600/IMG_3057.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM66-vtlosI/AAAAAAAACGY/zT7o1UMDJEA/s400/IMG_3057.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534566579207250626" /></a><br />It also made me realize we need to repaint our place. Badly. You can't go buying a beat-up old pie safe and position it on your nicked and scuffed old wall and expect it to look chic. Our house needs paint and it needs it NOW. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM66_T4UtQI/AAAAAAAACGw/83qM8F8cVYk/s1600/IMG_2780.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 387px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM66_T4UtQI/AAAAAAAACGw/83qM8F8cVYk/s400/IMG_2780.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534566588915954946" /></a><br />The bummer is that we're probably going to paint everything close to the exact same colors the walls are now. It's great that the colors work, but it kind of takes the joy out of such a huge process when there's not going to be any big reveal happening. Then again, maybe it's for the best: We all know <a href="http://lipstickonyourteeth.blogspot.com/2009/06/before-and-afterand-after-after.html">how very bad</a> I am at choosing paint colors. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM66_l98rtI/AAAAAAAACG4/M3u-IQeVGg0/s1600/IMG_2719.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM66_l98rtI/AAAAAAAACG4/M3u-IQeVGg0/s400/IMG_2719.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534566593771384530" /></a><br />So coming up, mini shopping/restocking road trip with my best pal Shan (who, as a wedding gift, got us a household membership to the Chicago Architecture Foundation. How cool is that?) and paint up to my eyeballs. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM67Fk-m3yI/AAAAAAAACHA/t9u4KxdCT6o/s1600/IMG_2081.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 334px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TM67Fk-m3yI/AAAAAAAACHA/t9u4KxdCT6o/s400/IMG_2081.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534566696584929058" /></a><br />Anyone have a killer matte/glossy white wall/trim color combo they're dying to share?Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-78175548915857789262010-10-28T07:13:00.000-07:002010-10-28T07:35:22.057-07:00From the trembling walls, it's a great ideaI just got a copy of <a href="http://www.artbook.com/9788862081184.html">Detroit Disassembled</a>, Andrew Moore's incredible book of large-format photography that captures both the decay and abandoned stillness of the Detroit area and the persistent way in which nature slowly creeps back to reclaim its turf.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMmGewVbc_I/AAAAAAAACGQ/gIZB82sP60o/s1600/Andrew+Moore+Naval-Detroit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 317px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMmGewVbc_I/AAAAAAAACGQ/gIZB82sP60o/s400/Andrew+Moore+Naval-Detroit.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533101480130343922" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">No longer the Motor City of boom-time industry, the city of Detroit has fallen into an incredible state of dilapidation since the decline of the American auto industry after the Second World War. Today, whole sections of the city resemble a war zone, its once-spectacular architectural grandeur reduced to vacant ruins. In Detroit Disassembled, photographer Andrew Moore records a territory in which the ordinary flow of time-or the forward march of the assembly line-appears to have been thrown spectacularly into reverse.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMmGenu7c4I/AAAAAAAACGI/NH9NkdidxMo/s1600/Chemlab-Detroit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMmGenu7c4I/AAAAAAAACGI/NH9NkdidxMo/s400/Chemlab-Detroit.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533101477821379458" /></a><br /><br />A lifelong Midwesterner (so far), I've always been a little bit fascinated by my neighbor to the north. When I was little, we used to take trips up to the Indiana dunes and long, lazy vacations in Mackinaw. I'm heading up to Michigan a bit more these days for work and have spoken to people who grew up in Detroit. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMmGefTFGUI/AAAAAAAACGA/7iZrg2-GWbU/s1600/chimage.php.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 317px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMmGefTFGUI/AAAAAAAACGA/7iZrg2-GWbU/s400/chimage.php.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533101475557087554" /></a><br /><br />They tell me unbelievable things, like how it's not uncommon for a city block to have one remaining house standing. And how pheasants and other wild animals roam the streets because there aren't any cars to mow them down. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMmGdw8uO9I/AAAAAAAACF4/vcoEEy5_JpA/s1600/Ford+Company,+Headquarters.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMmGdw8uO9I/AAAAAAAACF4/vcoEEy5_JpA/s400/Ford+Company,+Headquarters.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533101463115283410" /></a><br /><br />The decay is shocking and somehow beautiful. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMmGdG3KsfI/AAAAAAAACFw/ny9xHJ3GIw0/s1600/nationaltime-thumb-350x437-27341.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMmGdG3KsfI/AAAAAAAACFw/ny9xHJ3GIw0/s400/nationaltime-thumb-350x437-27341.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533101451817693682" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Salvador Dali called. He wants to know what time it is.</span> <br /><br />I've not yet ventured in to Detroit proper. I think I'd like to sometime soon.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-14226171367852529282010-10-27T08:00:00.000-07:002010-10-27T08:07:15.054-07:00I'm giving you a longer lookAhh! I love these <a href="http://edped.tumblr.com/">extraordinary posters for everyday events</a>. Mine right now would be on the subject sitting in the sunbeam in my living room drinking tea and wearing some crazy old pajama pants and thinking about how I really should start washing my face before I go to sleep. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMg_jqXqyqI/AAAAAAAACFo/grZyZjrrnac/s1600/tumblr_l7x79okMMT1qd911xo1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMg_jqXqyqI/AAAAAAAACFo/grZyZjrrnac/s400/tumblr_l7x79okMMT1qd911xo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532742024126188194" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://edped.tumblr.com/">EDPED: Every Day Posters Every Day</a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMg_jB6NmsI/AAAAAAAACFg/z1hHhanHVx4/s1600/tumblr_l9hbbrZtw21qd911xo1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMg_jB6NmsI/AAAAAAAACFg/z1hHhanHVx4/s400/tumblr_l9hbbrZtw21qd911xo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532742013265222338" /></a><br /><br />These are just a few of my faves.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMg_izEXPlI/AAAAAAAACFY/Osd9gOGnBY0/s1600/tumblr_l9ujmuCWjC1qd911xo1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 399px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMg_izEXPlI/AAAAAAAACFY/Osd9gOGnBY0/s400/tumblr_l9ujmuCWjC1qd911xo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532742009281265234" /></a><br /><br />Did you know you can submit one of your own? <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMg_iibxsBI/AAAAAAAACFQ/F8bW1MrZ6J8/s1600/tumblr_l9vmgaBauy1qd911xo1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 309px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TMg_iibxsBI/AAAAAAAACFQ/F8bW1MrZ6J8/s400/tumblr_l9vmgaBauy1qd911xo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532742004816064530" /></a><br /><br />What would yours be?Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-21793521849546766622010-10-20T19:21:00.000-07:002010-10-20T19:28:56.725-07:00Eastern UnionQw'ew odd rhia qwwkwns <----whoa, whoa, WHOA. That's what happens when you try to type and watch TV when the news is squawking about those <a href="http://bitchmagazine.org/post/terry-richardsongleegqcreepfest">scandalous Terry Richardson<span style="font-style:italic;"> Glee</span></a> photos and your fingers aren't quite right on the home row. <br /><br />Let's begin again: <br />We're off this weekend!<br /><br />To spend a relaxing weekend doing not much of anything in Union Pier, Michigan. Marc has a good friend who has generously offered her gorgeous cottage as a getaway. She's a designer, and I've seen pictures. Please, please cross your fingers that I don't spill anything major. <br /><br />As I do whenever I go anywhere new: Do you have any suggestions? I'd love to hit up some thrift and antique shops along the way. But any suggestions are welcome!Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-72612983229025182712010-10-19T19:36:00.000-07:002010-10-19T20:15:26.932-07:00The hitchin' post<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TL5c17MO_KI/AAAAAAAACFI/0HWKDFPf_jE/s1600/hiya.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TL5c17MO_KI/AAAAAAAACFI/0HWKDFPf_jE/s400/hiya.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529959473949375650" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">(No cakes were harmed during the creation of this post. The Cultural Center has a fake cake so we civil-service-ceremony slobs can get a nice, traditional wedding photo. It actually made me very emotional to cheer as the other brides and grooms emerged from their ceremonies. It was like we were all a part of something bigger than it being "my" big day--it also made me sort of jealous of one bride's fabulous electric-blue heels.)</span><br /> <br />Hey gang. What's the latest and the greatest? I know I've been all flighty and a giant tease about the wedding, but we didn't do professional pictures (my stepdad is a wonderful photographer) and I'm not-so-patiently waiting for my mom to send me some pictures from the damn thang, so in the meantime all I have are some snapshots. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TL5c1lJDEII/AAAAAAAACFA/qFlX4AyWncE/s1600/married!.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TL5c1lJDEII/AAAAAAAACFA/qFlX4AyWncE/s400/married!.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529959468030431362" /></a><br />Ahh, there's one. I guess you can see which dress I ended up going with. And I'm super happy with my choice. It was pretty (IMO), comfortable and felt like a wedding dress without being too, too traditional. <br /><br />I wouldn't say the wedding went off without a hitch (there were some serious snags with the reception people, but it's boring and I won't get into it here), but we did manage to <span style="font-style:italic;">get</span> hitched (ba-dum-ch!), which is what we were there to do. And it was a fun, fun time. It's just crazy having a husband of my very own. It's like, am I really allowed to just be married to some dude? Hello, don't mind if I do settle here on Grown Up Lane. <br /><br />I feel like it's not totally different from when you get your first pet and the responsibility and possibilities and love and just all-over weirdness that lashes you to something you're going to care for and tend to for the long stretch of foreseeable future boggles your tiny mind. And in the back of your head you're thinking about how you're still so young and irresponsible you would still eat an entire box of Fruit Roll Ups if your mom wouldn't kill you for ruining your dinner. But you're allowed to partner up and be best pals with this living, breathing thing? For real? <br /><br />Ideally, I guess the fact that you know it's a big, huge deal makes it makes you ready. (I think we can all be happy that I didn't try to write my wedding vows, right? I think I might be single with a Pomeranian puppy right now.)<br /><br />Anyway, I'll get into the day and details more when I have some legit snaps to share (<span style="font-style:italic;">MOM</span>).<br /><br />If you're dying for more of me standing around awkwardly, <a href="http://piratesnpilots.com/?p=814&pid=122">here's a little interview I did with the great people at Pirates & Pilots</a>. They wanted to know about how I dress--and let me let you in on a big secret--my trick is to choose at least one item of clothing from my bedroom floor/top of dresser so I feel like I've clothed myself <span style="font-style:italic;">and </span> cleaned up a little without having to fold or hang anything up*. Multitasking!<br /><br />*This half-assery is probably no longer allowed now that I'm a married lady with nice knives and pots n' pans and stuff, huh?Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-91205189218067743922010-09-23T10:17:00.000-07:002010-09-23T10:43:48.469-07:00Burying the TMI<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TJuRxxIeomI/AAAAAAAACE4/i3wmGn6iGe4/s1600/design_harvest.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TJuRxxIeomI/AAAAAAAACE4/i3wmGn6iGe4/s400/design_harvest.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520166052461191778" /></a><br />So <a href="http://www.design-harvest.com/info.html">this</a> is happening next weekend and I'm pretty psyched. Well, it doesn't hurt that it's about two blocks from my house and Angela, the owner of <a href="http://www.post27store.com/">Post 27</a> (I have a crazy crush on her shop...<a href="http://www.designspongeonline.com/2010/06/sneak-peek-angela-and-barkley-of-post-27.html">see her bad ass house here</a>) threw this whole thing together. It's kind of a well-kept secret, but Grand Ave has all of these wonderful interiors and design shops popping up between Ashland and Damen. <a href="http://scentimentalgardens.com/newsletter.html">SG Grand</a> has also opened up shop right across the street from Post 27. You can see all of the stores and vendors on this <a href="http://www.design-harvest.com/info.html">handy map</a>, actually. Oh yeah, beer and bands can't really hurt either. I'm going to be there. Will you? <br /><br />So...What else, what else? <br /><br />Oh yeah, so a bit ago, Marc is a champ and went to the store and bought tampons for me. He said some lady, like, six people in line behind him started hollering at him and being all, "You are BRAVE! You are such a NICE GUY!" Oh, what I would have paid to see the shade of his neck and ears when that went down. Anyway, so nice gesture and all, but he comes home with these Playtex Sports tampons, which I've not only never heard of, but me and sports? Is he trying to say something about my languishing gym membership here? <br /><br />So these are the strangest lady products ever for several reasons: <br />1. They're NEON colors. As in those pink and green bicycle shorts people wore in the early 90s. <br /><br />2. A selling point on the box is that the wrappers are quiet. Is this a thing people are worried about? I've never thought about feminine hygiene products and wondered when in thee world science come through with something that isn't so damn LOUD. Honestly, someone explain this to me in the comments, please. <br /><br />3. And this is by far the weirdest: The wrappers all have inspirational sayings on them. Such as: "Declare yourself a winner" and "Make your workout count." Oh and seriously: "PMS=Play more sports." Um, are you kidding me? It's like feminine hygiene meets fortune cookies. Except they should really say something like, "You will inexplicably burst into tears while watching an Empire Carpet commercial." or "Of course bloating is the only thing keeping you out of those jeans.Why don't you just try some yoga pants instead?"<br /><br />Ahh, to be on the marketing team that came up with this. So what say you? Would you look at these wrappers and be all, "Yeah! Spice up Your Life. I'm going to go play volleyball now!" Am I just not that kind of girl? It seems to me, these are the loudest "quiet" tampon wrappers on the planet.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-64656372988030442502010-09-17T14:37:00.000-07:002010-09-17T14:59:46.690-07:00Three Snaps in a Z Formation!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TJPkYxsubrI/AAAAAAAACEw/PFnKYmQ8src/s1600/PT_Kelly_Kitchen.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 304px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TJPkYxsubrI/AAAAAAAACEw/PFnKYmQ8src/s400/PT_Kelly_Kitchen.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518005082767912626" /></a><br />Well, I let August zip past me, didn't I? It's one week until the wedding, and I feel like I should be freaking out more (or at all), but I think everything will fall into place. The only thing I'm really concerned about is the weather, and since I can't really do a damn thing about that, it's time to just chill. At the end of the day, Marc and I will be married and with any luck, everyone will have had at least a teensy-weensy drop of fun. That's all that really matters. I can't wait to see the people I love!<br /><br />Stuff that's bothering me these days: <br />1. Cauliflower. Sick sick sick. <br />2. When people hang guitars on their walls. <br />3. My cat Harvey digging up all the new plants I'm trying to start in the windowsill. Haven't the squirrels done enough!?!?!<br />4. Hard water stains on old jars. After trying to clean them, I smell like a disgusting cocktail of Efferdent, Goo Gone and Vinegar. Very sexy.<br />5. How the library won't even let you reserve a book until you pay your fine. Can't I just pay it when I come in to fetch the book? <br /><br />Stuff I love these days: <br />1. Triple Ginger snaps from Trader Joe's (when I eat them, I think of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWdL9mrYNmQ&feature=related">In Living Color</a>)<br />2. The shake weight Marc was given at his man shower (except for when the time I used it and hit myself in the face)<br />3. Friends who know you so well it's shocking<br />4. White marble countertops. Obsessed. <br />5. My new water carafe (thanks, Leah!)<br /><br />What's happening with all y'all? <br /><br />(image via <a href="http://www.designspongeonline.com/">Design*Sponge</a>)Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-22889757263571393282010-07-22T06:01:00.000-07:002010-07-22T06:25:27.582-07:00Whys and why notSo guys, things are a little tired over here. I got back from a show in Atlanta and we are busy setting up for the next show in Chicago. As much work as it is, it feels so luxurious to be able to go home and settle into my own bed this go-round. But yeah, I spent many an hour chalking up and then erasing blackboard painted walls, so my arms are a little bit sore. <br /><br />Which, honestly, is a little pathetic. I probably need this kind of work to avoid developing some serious bingo wings. Mmmm, wings. <----See? There's my problem. <br /><br />Anyway, I've been on a sort of doing stuff/buying things for the house moratorium (spending thousands of dollars on car repairs will do that to you). So that means I haven't been shopping or junking or even reading too many blogs in fear that temptation--and even worse--envy, will rear its ugly head. <br /><br />Things will turn around soon and I'll be able to do some projects around the house (I'm thinking painting and maybe a little tiling, recaulking the bathtub. Mmm sexy.) and <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/thebigheist">the shop</a> will finally be restocked. Slight digression: HOLY CRAP. The next <a href="http://www.thevintagebazaar.com/">Vintage Bazaar</a> is just a month away at the Congress Theater. Don't fret; the treasures we do have we've been hoarding, so we'll be ready. <br /><br />Anyway, not much these days makes me start plotting and planning on how Ima get it, but boy I did see this and salivate a little: <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TEhE3pXOcVI/AAAAAAAACEg/nshv1L3hqXQ/s1600/chenkarlsson_favthings_01_012.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 330px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TEhE3pXOcVI/AAAAAAAACEg/nshv1L3hqXQ/s400/chenkarlsson_favthings_01_012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496719067992453458" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.chenkarlsson.com/products/favourite-things/">Chen Karlsson pendant lamp</a>. <br /><br />Love it or hate it, you know how much I enjoy <a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/sf/flickr-finds/flickr-find-toy-terrariums-091830#comments">putting things into other things</a> (no, not like that, sicko). All I can think now is how enjoyable doing dishes would be with this guy casting away shadows above me.<br /><br />What kind of treasure would you put in it? I think I'd like to somehow replicate our kitchen table set up in miniature with little dolls that look like Marc and me. Nice and creepy like <span style="font-style:italic;"><a href="http://library.thinkquest.org/J001776/dollhouse.html">The Dollhouse Murders</a></span>. Anyone else remember that book?Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-38818533629913074912010-07-12T09:28:00.001-07:002010-07-12T13:31:18.839-07:00Say, "Eh, I guess that'll do." to the dress!or, Unleashing my inner Bridezilla. <br /><br />Ever since I announced Marc and I were engaged and planning our wedding, lots of people have jokingly joshed around about how I'm going to be <span style="font-style:italic;">such</span> an insufferable diva, meaning--I hope--that they expect I'll actually be a pretty mellow bride. Even Marc got in on the act, calling me a Bridezilla when I timidly requested that we maybe not have our wedding on Sept. 11. It's been a pretty great compliment--but in a weird way a hard persona to live up to. <br /><br />Hence the four-dress saga. <br /><br />I even feel a little diva-ish writing about it, but people asked so here goes. I went shopping with my mom and, ignoring a longer, more formal dress, picked out what I thought I wanted: a short, sophisticated dress that to me said. "I am a grown up. And I am having a tasteful civil ceremony that has nothing to do with fairy princesses or enchanted magic or even Spanx." So that's how I ended up choosing this guy: <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TDtNLXcimvI/AAAAAAAACEY/sJ1E0QL1lmM/s1600/pBCBG1-7358155dt.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TDtNLXcimvI/AAAAAAAACEY/sJ1E0QL1lmM/s400/pBCBG1-7358155dt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493069028176075506" /></a><br />(imagine it minus cheesy sunglasses and sandals)<br /><br />Back in Chicago, I took my friend Shannon to see the dress and get a second opinion before I ordered it. BUT. When we were at the store, she <span style="font-style:italic;">forced</span> me to try on that longer, more formal dress I studiously ignored in the first place (this is a lie). It looked great on. I even thought about buying it and cutting it off into a short dress. I <span style="font-style:italic;">even</span> dragged another bride-to-be friend to the and forced her to try it on for her wedding (this is not a lie). My insane-o logic was, "well, if I can't have it, somebody I know had better wear this to something so I can bask it its glorious presence." She wasn't having it. <br /><br />Then what did I do? I ordered dress #1. Like a fool. Then, like a fool, I looked at the catalog that came with it and decided this dress (#2)...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TDtNK21s5CI/AAAAAAAACEQ/o3Myn_RnFpg/s1600/pBCBG1-7357990dt.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TDtNK21s5CI/AAAAAAAACEQ/o3Myn_RnFpg/s400/pBCBG1-7357990dt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493069019423237154" /></a><br /><br />...was just the swinging retro look I was going for. Plus that model is at least as pale as I am and she looks pretty alive-ish in it, right? And then I sat on it. For weeks. Of course, this dress was not available in stores, so I'd have to order it online to try it on. By the time I got around to ordering it, the dress was on sale (score!) but was non-returnable (burn!). So I ordered it anyway. Tried it on for my friends, and everyone was underwhelmed. Tried on trusty ole #1 and decided it wasn't as great as I thought. At this point it time, I have owned #1 too long to return it, so now I have two un-returnable dresses on my hands. <br /><br />While trying it on, I thought of a vintage sundress (#3 but sort of doesn't count) I bought at a garage sale for $6 (and also wore as part of a Halloween costume in 2006). I tried it on for the friends, who decided this was the most "me" and most flattering dress of the lot. Ugh, of course. That works for me, but being a secret Bridezilla, I didn't know how excited I was about wearing a dress that I just happened to have and had already worn as a costume. I mean, <span style="font-style:italic;">maybe</span> if Marc agreed to wear the Batman suit he'd donned that year...<br /><br />Sorry, I don't have a picture of it, but it's very dance-contest Sandy from <span style="font-style:italic;">Grease</span>: <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TDtNKosIDAI/AAAAAAAACEI/1li2qjTxl00/s1600/greaseDM2303_468x460.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 393px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TDtNKosIDAI/AAAAAAAACEI/1li2qjTxl00/s400/greaseDM2303_468x460.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493069015624977410" /></a><br />I thought that if I Brigitte Bardot'd my hair all up and got a super poofy crinoline and just went all the way with the vintage look, I'd get more excited about it, but the whole thing felt sort of costume-y to me. Which got me thinking about that long, elegant dress from way back in the day. <br /><br />Since I seem to be unable to make a definitive decision regarding anything clothing related, the smart thing seemed to be to go try it on again and see if I really loved it or just wanted what I didn't have. Of course. <span style="font-style:italic;">Of course</span>, no store has the dress now. I know because I went to six places to try it on. <br /><br />And then I went and found it on ebay and ordered it (Non-returnable. Of. Freaking. Course.)<br /><br />I give you #4:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TDtNKOmTkWI/AAAAAAAACEA/83EE4tXr4Ms/s1600/_6067415.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 261px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TB33xDKDDB0/TDtNKOmTkWI/AAAAAAAACEA/83EE4tXr4Ms/s400/_6067415.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493069008621244770" /></a><br />Thar she blows. We'll see if I'm still into her when she arrives. <br /><br />So, not only have I given in to fairy princess, I've taken a couple of dresses hostage in the process. And I'm in full-blown indecisive diva glory. At least we know I won't be naked. Marc, on the other hand, I'm not so sure about. He's been joking that he's going to have to wear one of these babies because I may have just exhausted our wardrobe budget for the wedding. <br /><br />Oh yeah, scoldings and suggestions (and offers for any of these <span style="font-style:italic;">lovely</span> frocks) are more than welcome!Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14421580.post-49378685381321573472010-07-09T12:49:00.000-07:002010-07-09T12:52:05.431-07:00So, uh?Do you guys dust your baseboards regularly? I know it seems kind of gross, but it never seems to occur to me to do it when I'm cleaning and the very idea of scrubbing our entire apartment at ankle level makes me sleepy. I've been trying to do a room here and there, but how often do normal people clean their baseboard moldings? <br /><br />I must know so I have an idea of just how inadequate I should feel.Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07993031183890576341noreply@blogger.com10