Say cheese!

Gang, I'm making my maiden voyage to Milwaukee tomorrow. I know the art museum is supposed to be off the chain, but are there any other must-dos?

It's a quick trip, but I'm determined to make the most of it.

La la la. It's time to overshare!

About 137 years ago, Designer's Brew tagged me in a meme I promised to fill out promptly. And, see, I did. I just never posted it because of the inertia and all that.

So, after little ado and much inaction, I present you with little-known, sorta-interesting facts about moi!

Most appalling nickname you've ever been called:



Canklestache. This stemmed from a (most likely drunken) conversation I had with some friends about how sometimes I get self conscious about not being self conscious enough about certain things. Does that even make sense? Like, maybe all this time I'm worrying about my posture, I should be focusing on the fact I have cankles and never even noticed (I really don't think I do...but do I?). Example: Every time I get my eyebrows waxed, the lady asks if I want my upper lip done too...Uhhh. See, I'm fair haired and fair skinned. I've never bleached or waxed. Do I need to? Is this something I need to add to the worry list, right after "stop looking like Wednesday Addams since your old boss gave you bronzer as a gift?"

I was fretting about it and thus was given the name Canklestache. I love it. It's a mess and so am I.

P.S. Both my mom and boyfriend are on lady-mustache duty henceforth. But you all have to tell me if I have one or, erm, lipstick on my teeth. Just let me stay in the dark about my cankles.

Most appalling nickname for your pet(s):
Nothing too crazy. What's appalling is that I like to make up rap jams about my cats, O&H. To wit:

Kittyfornia Love
(to the tune of "California Love" by 2Pac (featuring Dr. Dre and Roger Troutman) (chorus only) (I like parenthetical phrases, as long as we're being honest here))))

Otis and his brother Harvey/
Ooootis and his brother Harvey/
In the city of Chicago/
Keep on scratchin'/
Keep on meowin'.

Yeah.
The next one is an original tune. All I've got so far is:
Otis and Harvey/
Sippin' on Bacardi/
Crinkly toys full of catnip/
They know how to rock a party.

Also, when they fight, which is daily, I like to swat away the victor and console the defeated cat by singing a few bars of "Beautiful" by Christina Aguilera, to make him feel better. Words (or claws) can't bring them down!

Holy shit, I'm insane.

Working from home is only making things worse.

Famous people you follow on Twitter because you secretly wish you were friends with them (please, don't pretend you don't):

Danny DeVito (he's often drunk and typically only posts pictures of his foot in different locales. It's awesome.) and Lindsay Lohan. But I'm probably so dorky I'm following a fake one. A LoSham, if you will.

Radio song you suspect you ought to have better taste than to sing along to (but do anyway):
"Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga. I will also always sing along to "Feel Like Makin' Love" by Bad Company any day.

Favorite celebrity gossip source:
What Would Tyler Durden Do. I have no idea why. I think he makes me feel self righteous in my anger at his misogyny in somesuch gender studies senior thesis way. Or, it's the only site I have bookmarked.

Best back-handed compliment you've ever received:
"Wow your hair looks really cute today. It didn't look nearly as nice yesterday."--Bronzer boss

OR

"Your boyfriend is really cute. You need to lock that down." Yes, I am well aware I'm the reacher here.

Secret fantasy career:
Peg Bundy

Free Pass Five:

Joseph Gordon Levitt, Newsies-era Christian Bale, Dave Grohl, James Franco, your mom

Body part you feel you are justifiably vain about:
My non-cankles, dammit!

Unacceptable slang/profanity you cannot stop yourself from using:
I'm a "that's what she said" ultra dork. I even keep track of the best:
A friend when parallel parking: "I think you're in. You just have to move it back and forth a bit."
Boyfriend, when making a toasty beverage: "Looks like this is my last tea bag."


I also say "goddamn it!" sometimes.

Most inappropriate nickname for a former love interest:
Sideshow...as in Sideshow Bob. Nice guy, but all my friends hated him and refused to acknowledge him as just Bob. I still think of him as good ole Sideshow.

Most inappropriate nickname for someone else's love interest:
Hmm…not really sure. Probably just, “ugh, that ass? you're still dating him?”

There you have it. It's confirmed that I'm a horrible spaz. I'm not going to tag anyone, but if you want to do this, I'll add your name right here! Neat.

Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society

Hello, yous!

I have been so absent and so inert when it comes to this blog (and wearing pants that don't have an elastic waist).

It's really interesting what having a job that requires you to make your own schedule does to you. On one hand, it's incredibly awesome. I can grab my computer the second I wake up and basically get going. No need (on some days) for pesky things like breakfast and the brushing of the teeth that comes after that. On the other hand, with so much freedom comes the danger of slacking on everything except work. Such as, ahem, blogging.

Now that I've sort of started to settle into things, I've found new ways to coach myself to live a more "normal" existence. It doesn't matter that my motivators are things like: "I need to get dressed so the UPS guy doesn't see me in these red pajama pants three days in a row." and "I need to go out and run some errands so I have stories to tell Marc when he comes home that aren't an hour-by-hour rundown of the cats' napping schedules." Hence, the blogging again.

Plus, I've started going on appointments and meeting my clients, which is so very fun. I basically get to visit people in their awesome shops or studios, learn what they're all about and find ways to help them.

So anyway, thanks everyone for being patient with me and my inertia. Would you believe I still haven't gone to Steak N' Shake to fetch my camera? But hey, at least I'm all showered up today.

OH, and I almost forgot about the title of this grovel-y post! So, Marc was out of town this weekend, and I'm a total baby about sleeping in an empty apartment. It was bad enough that I'd just finished re-reading World War Z last week. I was up every hour listening for creaks and moan. BUT, I was wise enough to opt not to watch a movie about zombie Nazis. Instead I got my spooks from running through old episodes of Are You Afraid of the Dark?. Do you know most of that shit is up on Youtube? Oh, nostalgia!

I'm a hyper hypo

Until I go back to Steak N' Shake to fetch my camera, we're going to chat a bit more about the bazaar.

Just a quick note that Heliopsis,one of the vendors that will be in effect on Sat., has been on the scene like Veronica Corningstone, interviewing a bunch of the vendors who will be peddling their wares this weekend. Stop on over to get a great idea of who will be there and what to expect.

Such a great service, but It's making me nervous that I'm going to want to do more shopping than selling.

Wet blanket

Ok, so if you happen to stop by my house these days, it looks like a museum shop and an old lady's basement just exploded and had trinket babies everywhere. Amassing work samples + pulling out all the business for the bazaar + little wadded up paper towels covered in Goo Gone = a whole lot of chaos jammed into 1,000 square feet. And oh! The boxes! Our entire back hallway is waist deep in boxes. I have half a mind to give them to the guy who lives in under the viaduct down the street, but he's had one too many trashcan fire get out of control this winter. On this point I'm serious. The whole right side of the underpass is now sooty black, and I smell like a campfire every time I pass through. I'm afraid someone's bound to get hurt, whether it's Mr. Resident, some tragic Metra riders or some innocent Urban Remains shoppers.

Anywhoodle, in prepping for the bazaar, I attempted to take two boiled-wool blankets to the drycleaner last night, so they would be all clean and fresh for their (potential) new homes. The lovely lady working (shout out to Wicker Park Cleaners) helpfully informed me that I could wash the blankets in my very! own! machine! The trick is to use lukewarm then cold water and let the machine fill up with soap and water before adding the blanket.



Thanks, buddy! Such a great moneymaking tip. BUT. And there always is a pretty big one, isn't there? I have to hang them up to line dry, which means I'll be adding wet animal smell to the lovely melange of crap I have going on right now. Lemons to lemonade: Will it be a dietary aid?

Welp, the first blanket is set to come out of the washer right now. If anyone's interested, I can provide updates on shrinkage and/or stinkage.

* If it has to look like a shop, these pictures are what I really, really wish my house looked like maintenant (via Design*Sponge).

How bazaar

Lest this blog turn into pictures of dudes holding cats, here's some news you can use:

The Vintage Bazaar

It's THIS Saturday! It's going to be awesome! Beer and jams will be there. I will be there, and so will some seriously awesome vendors. I'm really hoping this doesn't turn into New York Gift Show Part Deux, in which I buy so much stuff I offset any sort of profit or gain or whatever.

If you're planning to attend, come say hi to us at The Big Heist. We have so much stuff that's not posted in the Etsy shop. Seriously, guys. I've been hoarding like I belong on A&E.

Note: I would take pictures to preview some of my loot, but I recently discovered I left my camera at a Steak N' Shake in Rosemont, IL. Party down.

Well, hello sailor!

Justin Peddycoart:How I paid my rent by thrifting.


Oooh, and he's a pretty cute cat guy too...

No one to blame but laziness

Isn't it sad that it takes me two weeks to recover from being out of town for a week?

Rest assured, I have so much more to say, but I'm just digging out. Topics include painting my front door, beer, old things and my newly discovered love for swan planters. Sorry this post is the blog equivalent of a sitcom clip show. I know it's super weak sauce.

Talk to you guys soon!

In my orbit

This

= mine. At half price!

(I still owe Design Crisis props for bringing this light fixture into my world.)

Absentee blogging

Hey gang! I miss you like the deserts miss the rain.

I so, so promise to put my nose back to the grindstone as soon as I get back from the gift show in New York. It's been a busy, busy, fun, busy time. In the sad meantime, I'm letting someone else do the reporting for me: where I've been and how I'm (mostly) staying out of trouble.

P.S. Thumbs down to Old Navy low-rise tights. I've been attempting to navigate the streets--and booths--of New York in you, but it's tough when I feel like Marky Mark sagging some Calvins (sans amazing abs). Seriously, every step I took I was trying to surreptitiously yank up my tights without somehow giving myself an atomic wedgie (TMI?). I figure a little inadvertent flashing in the big apple is par for the course.

I got 5 on it

If anyone is just tuning in, here's the second half of the 10 things that make me happy that I began yesterday.

Obviously, there's tons more I could write about (Craigslist, Red Bull, Harold and Maude, Papa John's pizza, "that's what she said" jokes, Intervention, but I think that's all been pretty well documented in my real life or my online life here on my Internet diary friend).

On to the list...

5. Belgian beer. I can't drink it too often because I need my clothes to fit. But it's so delicious. One of my favorite Saturdays is when we go to beer school at the Map Room.

It's getting really popular, so it's sold out the last few times we've tried to attend. But really, what's better than drinking and learning?

4. Terrariums. My love for plants has also been well documented on this site, but I'm adding them again because they're so important to my well-being.


I love having bursts of life around the house--especially in the winter. It makes everything somehow feel more fresh and alive.

3. This is kind of a two-for-one entry: My co-workers and snacks.


They spelled my name out in donuts for my last day at my current job. Everyone wants their name spelled in lights, but pastries suit me just fine! How literally/figuratively sweet is this?

2. While I'll miss a lot about my job, I'm super excited to kick things off here. I feel so lucky to have this opportunity; it's basically a dream job for me. Plus, everyone has been so nice so far, and I can't wait to be working with some crazy gorgeous stuff.

1. And finally, the three amigos, the main guys in my life: Otis, Harvey and Marc.


They're the cutest, most fun roommates ever...even if they have their faults (howling incessantly at 3 am, digging up plants, being a finicky eater, respectively). They're the best trio in the world to come home to every day!

I'm going to tag someone else today too! Jess at The Wife of an Artist, you're up!

Lucky 10

Erin at the fabulous Design Crisis tagged me to round up ten things that make me happy. Right now, I'm wrapping up things at my current job all while learning the ropes for my new gig,which involves a big gear switch and two trade shows in the next week. So things have been more than a little hectic for the past two weeks or so. Adding this round up as just one more task to my gigantico to-do list almost sent me over the edge...until I started doing it.

Seriously, so much drama is making me focus on all the irritating things such as the fact that if I don't do laundry tonight, my swimwear is going to have to pull double duty as undergarments. Which in turn makes me think about cellulite remedies, which drives me to the kitchen in search of chocolate. Good God, I am such a Cathy cartoon these days.

Anywhoodle, taking stock of what makes me sigh and smile is much more therapeutic than dwelling on everything that makes my shoulders hunch up and my left eye twitch. Thanks, Erin. I needed this!

Ok, here goes. I made a point to not make this all about food. It was tough.

10. Indian food. With lots of Naan in particular. I'm craving it like whoa.


9. Grenada tiles.



Love love love. I would possibly tile my bed and my sofa in some of these patterns. And I think a lot of the appeal of these is their old-worldliness. Mostly, they make me want to take a trip to Greece or Turkey.

8. Design Vagabond. Great design blog from an industrial designer who manages to find awesome stuff that's not reported on other sites ad nauseum.


Here's an example post on wonderful Crudo ceramics.

7. Writers who are so hilarious they make me laugh so hard I forget to be jealous. I'm thinking of Tula from Whorange and April Winchell at Regretsy. Those two are always good for a pick-me-up.

6. Speaking of bloggers, I am madly in love with this Patrick Townsend Orbit Light (in white) and am determined to get with it and hang it somewhere fabulous in my house.


I never knew how badly I wanted it in my life before I saw it on DC, so thanks for that, ladies. And thanks for making me cheer myself up today.

This is so fun I'm going to stretch it into two posts--top 5 to come tomorrow.

Even though I'm only halfway done, I'm tagging Melina at Owl and Peacock. And I'm expecting at lest one cheese-related entry.

Yo la tengo

Sorry for the general quietness around here...busy times, folks.

That's why I'm going to rewind and talk about stuff that happened almost a month ago! Santa got it all wrong this year and thought I was good enough to deserve some seriously awesome Christmas gifts. Here are some snaps of the shelf I really, really wanted.

I think it's doing an superb job of housing some of the crap I drag home on an almost-daily basis.

You can also see another jazzy gift peeking out of the corner of this picture.

My parents were so thoughtful and got me this wonderful mini tabletop photo studio thing that includes some great lights, a itsy-bitsy tripod, a light tent and an assortment of different colored backdrops. The cats are really enjoying naps in the light tent, but the tabletop lights alone have been worth it for photographing things for the shop. Such a sweet gift!

Mercury rising

I'm not a regular reader of Martha Stewart Living, but a friend passed along a recent(?) issue...I'm not sure. I ripped the cover off after I spilled a glass of water all over it and I can't remember what month the spine says it's from. Also, I just found the sad, wrinkly, water-damaged magazine wedged between my bed and the wall the other night.

So yeah, clearly, I'm not reading Queen Martha. She'd have my ass whipped into better shape than this. Also of note: the bottom of my purse has been dusted with that sweet n' sour Sour Patch Kids sugar for about a month. Every day, it makes my futile hunt for chapstick a little more grainy and delicious.

ANYWAY. This issue has some neat stuff (I ignored everything about moving my fridge and cleaning behind it and bathing your cats. You so crazy, Martha!) like making moss terrariums in jars. Also this:


Looks fancy and classy. But in reality is easy. (Kind of like your mom--oooh BURN!)

I guess to make your old glass vases look like mercury glass, you can buy this faux-glass spraypaint, apply it to the insides of the vases or jars or whaevs and then spritz with some water to give it an--you know what? Forget it. We're all better off just getting the directions from Martha. She says:


"Clean your vase or votive then cover the exteriors with paper. Spray the interiors lightly with water and then with mirror paint. Turn upside down to dry overnight and then repeat if too sheer. When finished, if you want to use it for flowers, just make sure to put them in a glass and then place glass in vase."

I'm thinking I just might try this. I just have to make sure not to use the water bottle that has fish emulsion mixed in it (let's just say living with an orchid is not easy).

Has anybody tried this? Is it, in fact, a Good Thing?

Cabin fever: A breakdown

Winter makes me want everything to be about 37% percent more charming and rustic than it really is.

Dirty snow and salt-encrusted shoes all over my hardwood floors make real life about 12% less marvelous. Runny noses and chapped lips further tip the scale 25% in the direction of blah.

Today, I'm taking a photo vacation to even things out.










P.S. I came into the office this weekend to clean out my giant drawer of shoes. Things* just got real.

*I am a lady and therefore am not using a swear word two posts in a row. Watchy me as I curtsy and drink my can of Red Bull with my pinky finger extended!

Lanford represent!

Holy shit!

Everybody needs to gather 'round the computer with their loose meat sandwiches and read Third and Delaware, a blog 100% dedicated to the sartorial choices of Roseanne and the rest of the Conners family.


And, oh yes, the giant chicken t-shirt is addressed.

Dan and Crystal and Jackie and lil DJ and Darlene and Beckies I and II, oh my!

Take it away, Lionel!*

Thanks for the times that you've given me/ The memories are all in my mind/
And now that we've come to the end of our rainbow/
There's something I must say out loud type on my blog...

You're once,


Twice,


Three times a lady


And I love you. (imagine me whispering this part) I love you.

Ok, that wasn't creepy at all.

I'm just musing here that I'd really like some portraits** to hang up in my house. A friend of mine has these awesome, huge portraits of her mom and her aunt astride horses that she won't hang up because she's afraid she'll scare off any boys that come to her apartment. Ugh so jealous. Those would be up in my kitchen or somewhere awesome in a heartbeat.

Maybe I can pry this Carly Simon-esque 70s-era painting of my mom from my grandma one of these days (yes, that is Mrs. Hans Johansen herself).

* Last night, I watched a documentary that included commentary from a Dr. Lionel Tiger. Holy awesome name! See? He's real!
** To Marc: Not so fast. Paintings of sad clowns don't count.

All my metaphors fell flat

Lookit! They're blooooooming.

And the one time a cat went up and nosed around, it cause a flower to burst open in bloom right in front of us. Mystical magical.

Anyway, you want to hear a story about about a chat I had with my mom? Ok.

We were in her adorable little mom-car (she was being nice enough to roll with me to Frankfort to buy old stuff) when this happened:

Mom: What are you doing for New Year's Eve?
Me: We're going to see Jens Lekman at the Empty Bottle.
Mom: Oh. I don't think I know him. But that sounds nice.
Me: Yeah, should be fun.
Mom: Hey, do you like that guy Hans Johansen?
Me: Um. Never heard of him.
Mom: Oh yeah? He's on Pandora all the time when I listen to Dave Matthews.
Me: Weird. Yeah, I can't say I've heard of him.

about a minute passes...

Me: WAIT. Are you talking about Jack Johnson?
Mom: Oh yeah, that's him! I like that guy.


Bye guys! Have a great snowy Wednesday night.

The original Just Do It

Last Saturday, a little group of us took a trip to the Art Institute (apparently everyone else had the same idea; the place was packed). I was most excited to check out the new modern wing and Apostles of Beauty.



On the way to all that, however, we stopped by a little set of rooms that houses a retrospective of James Castle, a largely untrained, deaf artist from rural Idaho. Castle never learned sign language or lip reading, so his art was his primary means of communication.

His work is wonderful in its own right. I'm in love with how pieces that are so rustic can depict such futuristic and wildly imaginative scenes. But there's something else extra special about Castle.

The museum has more than 200 pieces of his work on display. Castle worked with all sorts of found materials--food cartons, old letters, envelopes--and a combination of soot and spit and natural dye as mediums. Not only was he resourceful, the materials and sheer number of pieces made it seem as if he couldn't not make art.

Like he was absolutely compelled to create.



I can think of so many times I put off projects because I don't have the right stuff--I need another canvas or I don't like the fabric I have on hand or I should buy fancier paper. But this guy didn't stop. Couldn't stop. It was so wonderful to see all of his work preserved. So I'm using his perseverance to inspire me to stop stalling and hemming and hawing and just get on with it already.



Thanks for the new year push, James!

Whoops

I forgot to blog. Holidays + houseguests + general life shake-ups have taken up big chunks of time.

But I'm here, keepin' on keepin' on/truckin'/it real.

And I promise to be back with actual interesting-ish content tomorrow.

In the meantime, why don't you tell us all a joke?