And the moon rose over an open field

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. (you can get it here)

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 moveable. It's like the ultimate Alley-Sheedy-in-The-Breakfast-Club purse turned into a home. After all, you never know when you may have to jam!

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.

Remember the Gypsy caravan Danny and his father call home in Danny the Champion of the World? (more on that here)

What about the motorhome Juliette Lewis lives in in What's Eating Gilbert Grape?

Or who can forget Dylan McKay's dad's houseboat on 90210 (RIP Jack McKay)?

Oh, and Maude's sweet-ass railcar apartment in Harold and Maude totally counts.

If you're still with me at this ramble down my weird-kid memory lane, you have to read Travels with Charley: In Search of America, 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.

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.

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.

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.

- 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.

- This incredible (and gorgeous!) blog, Double Decker Days, 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!

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).

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, walk off to look for America.

Who knows what will happen. Thoughts? Pros 'n cons?

(image from Double Decker Days)

Some things

Gizang* (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, Mortal Kombat style.

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.#

* 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.

ANYWAY

So here's some things in lieu of my real post:

1. Thanks so much everyone for your words of encouragement for Harvey. 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.)

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.

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?

ANYWAY ANYWAY

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.

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.

# 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 your rad suggestions.

** 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.

Rollin' in my 94

A few weeks ago, I left a comment on My Little Apartment (addicted! to that blog, btdubs) about how much I love Craigslist 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.

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.

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…

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.

So yeah, I ended up marrying him. My wedding toast was a sincere and heartfelt salute to Craig Newmark.

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 my job via a Craigslist ad. (Hey! Here’s an article that quotes my company’s founder in today’s Times. Neat).

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.

Ha, just kidding. No babies just yet. Don’t freak.

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.

And yes, I’m taking suggestions of what to get airbrushed on the side.

The one that got away? Or dodging a bullet?

Promise that this will be my last Michigan-related post for a while!

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.


Kind of like so.

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.

That is, until the awesome 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.

And now the facts get in the way:

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?
2. We need more stuff on our walls like I need another swan figurine (which is to say not at ALL)
3. Um, this


Seriously, Restoration Hardware? 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.

What's in store for me? A roadtrip, or spitballs in my general direction?

Three Snaps in a Z Formation!

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!

Stuff that's bothering me these days:
1. Cauliflower. Sick sick sick.
2. When people hang guitars on their walls.
3. My cat Harvey digging up all the new plants I'm trying to start in the windowsill. Haven't the squirrels done enough!?!?!
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.
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?

Stuff I love these days:
1. Triple Ginger snaps from Trader Joe's (when I eat them, I think of In Living Color)
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)
3. Friends who know you so well it's shocking
4. White marble countertops. Obsessed.
5. My new water carafe (thanks, Leah!)

What's happening with all y'all?

(image via Design*Sponge)

Oh, so it's summer now?

Here's what I've been up to:

1. Not blogging.


2. Not taking enough pictures with my awesome new (geez, not that new anymore camera).


3. Obsessively playing Words with Friends



4. Freaking out over Erwin Olaf's photography.

5. Planning a mini wedding (in my head, it's a lot like a mini pony--cuter and easier to cram everything into a hatchback, but still capable of making a serious mess).


Actually, the whole wedding thing has been going really well so far (knock on wood). Both Marc and I have been blessed with super mellow families that are pretty much up for whatever and just want everyone to have a nice time. I know, right? So far, I have the dinner booked (hell-o, open bar!), my dress, invites, flowers picked out, a giant pile of vintage tablecloths and a cabinet full of tin cans and glass jars (I can expand on all that if anyone cares). It's--dare I say it--been lots of fun to plan. And my consolation is that if it's a giant mess and nothing goes right, who's going to say anything about that? It's not like your best friends and family are going to come to your wedding and tell you to your face that it was sort of lame and the cheescake was gross. But yeah, I hope everyone has fun...

More posting soon! Cross my heart!

What have y'all been doing?

In heaven everything is fine

Ladies and gents, I'm way excited to let you know that The Big Heist, the Etsy shop my friend Shannon and I run (and I have been sorely neglecting since the Vintage Bazaar) will have a booth at Heaven Gallery's Vintage Heaven this Sunday (here's a little interview with us) in Wicker Park!

The event goes down on Saturday too, but we'll be there all monster-truck-rally-style on SUNDAY! SUNDAY! SUNDAY! Well, I can't say we'll be there. Sadly, I have to go out of town for work, but Shan is going to hold down the fort.

She's great. So great, in fact, she was patient enough to go wedding dress shopping with me yesterday. Whereupon we discovered that I am not an Ultimate Bride and I should just go with the first dress I tried on that I liked in the first store I visited over the weekend. I hope if I post pictures here after the fact you all aren't thinking, "Uch. She shoulda looked longer. Who does she think she is? Stevie Nicks in that thing? What's going on with those dolman sleeves?" We shall seeee.

Anyway, come say hi if you're around! It looks like a lot of the other vendors will be selling some seriously amazing vintage clothing, so maybe it's for the best (cash flow-wise) that I'm not around all that awesomeness. We have lots of new housewares that aren't up in the shop yet (this is the spot for you if you're looking for bell jars. I'm going through an intense cloche phase these days).

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.

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!

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.

Note to self:

I like this for two reasons.

1. Wall color. Our fireplace is painted similarly, and I think I'd like to do another wall and the front door in this color.

2. Framed maps. This is what I was trying to explain here. The highway maps I have are about the same dimensions as those beauts on the left.

(image via Apartment Therapy)