So last night Im about to go to bed and I look at my pristine white pillow and there is a fucking scary ass bug running all over, spreading his bug germs everywhere. I screamed, and LOML runs in and has the audacity to LAUGH despite the fact that this thing could just meander into my nostril while I slept and crawl into my brain and ruin it and I would just be a blank-eyed pile of meat and it's almost like LOML doesn't even really care that that might happen. So then he tells me that it's good luck, so then I'm cool with the silverfish thing because I have really been keeping up with my sweepstakes entering.Read More
So last week, I was really unmotivated to post anything so I promised myself that I would be uber-productive this weekend and would have a bunch of awesome green posts to write about today.
Friday: Nothing useful ever gets accomplished on a Friday, this one being no exception, unless you count drinking too much wine and photobombing strangers as useful.
Saturday: We finally got internet (seriously, 4 months without internet, I was starting to have the shakes) so clearly nothing was being accomplished that day, but I had very high expectations that Sunday would be very incredibly productive and fulfilling.Read More
I'm ever so sorry for the misleading title if you are an adult bedwetter who thought they finally found someone who can relate to their shame. Alas, my secret shame is not bedwetting, but remains to this day that I eat food off the floor, showing little to no regard for the possibly fictitious 10 second rule (I fell asleep in the mythbusters where they investigated this, most boring episode ever.) I have also noticed that if left to my own devices, I can and will subsist solely on canned beans for up to 5 days before bean disdain sets in. I don't know if that's shameful or awesome.
Are you thinking now that I'm just trying to trick you with an exciting title and I'm just gonna prattle on about beans for an entire post? I just don't understand why not everyone is as enthusiastic about beans as I am, but fine, I will get to the heart of the matter.
In my quest for outdoor furniture that looks like this:Read More
Our backyard bonfire in Venice at Halloween. I lit myself on fire that year.
I recently moved from Venice, CA to Portland OR, due to a whole mess of things that don't need to be elaborated on. Still transitioning, as it is June and last week it was in the mother f^&*ing 50's. Degrees, that is. Having been raised in California, I tried to limit my bitching during the winter months, mostly because I am getting pretty sick of people asking "how I'm adjusting." "Oh, I'm thrilled, I just adore wearing two snuggies to bed." Also, I'm reading a book about Africa, and I feel pretty shitty whining about being chilly when people in the Congo have to worry about the worst parasites in the universe.
Despite paying over $1600 for a tiny apartment and narrowly escaping the traincrash known as Lindsey Lohan moving on my street (we moved out the month she moved in), I still get pangs of sadness for the old haunts of Venice. We lived about a block from Abbott Kinney, which, if you haven't been, you absolutely MUST. It alleges itself as the hippie mecca of LA, and you can pretty much find a good mix of rich people with expensively distressed clothing, a handful of celebrities, and druggies. There was one shop, a vintage shop, and one day me and the boy decided to go in. He picked up a chipped coffee mug and asked the price. The lady eyeballed his t-shirt with legitimate holes in it and said it was $600. (author's note: I don't remember the exact price, but it was definitely in the realm of $600-900). As we snorted with laughter, she gave us the most supreme bitchface I have ever witnessed. It was truly spectacular. She was like the Gwyneth Paltrow of boutique owners, and I would feel pretty confident in assuming that she sanitized everything we touched after we left the store. Anyway, you just can't get experiences like that here, and it is one of the many reasons Venice will be missed.
It looked like this but with french writing and like it had been dropped
Anyways, now that the weather is clearing up, I actually get to enjoy Portland, even though it doesn't have the snobs to entertain me. For someone interested in green living, it is certainly one of the best places to be in, and you can't help but love a place whose motto is "keep Portland weird." (Fun fact: we almost moved into a place next door to a previous mayor of Portland who was a BIG proponent of the "keep Portland weird" movement, and he had a homeless man that lived on his balcony and acted as the neighborhood watch. ) One thing that I have discovered that rules the shit out of Portland is 80's nights. Now don't get me wrong, I love me a costume party and any chance to dance to The Go-Gos, but I also have to be a big fan of some other decades, and I know I'm new to town but I am fully in favor of expanding our decade-themed party horizons. Maybe a sock-hop? A Flapper Festival? Am I just out of the loop and these are actually happening and I don't know about them?
I'm sure I could go on about other topics that people will care more about, but I'm going to choose to perseverate on this 80's obsession. I'm starting to think that maybe its a matter of decoration investment, and as a designer, I can assuage your fears. Lets take a 60's theme:
-Go to dolllar store, buy lots of white sheets and colored markers.
-Google tie dying.
-Tie dye sheets.
-Hang on walls.
This is what the sheets will look like if you don't suck at tie-dyeing.
I can assure you that the amount of money it will take to accomplish this will be less than what I personally spend at the bar, and if all partiers are not completely transfixed by all the colors then they have missed a crucial step in the pre-partying process for a hippie dance. So can we get on this please? Mcmenamin's, I'm looking at you, as you seem to be the leading abuser of the 80's night.
Jesus, I thought it was hard to motivate myself to write a book, but it literally took me a month just to figure out what background I want to go with for this thing, and I'm pretty sure thats getting changed soon. Needless to say, it is really hard to pick what I want to write about for the first post. On one hand, it sets the tune for the rest of the blog, and you can't really ever just get rid of your first post, but on the other hand, considering I have zero followers right now, not very many people will probably ever scroll all the way through my posts to read the first one, except maybe my mom, so hi Mom.
Anyways, to take the pressure off and just post something because the blankness is driving me nuts, I have decided to just post this email I wrote to my boyfriend that I randomly ran across today while searching for something in my gmail and I can't help but laugh about it now. Warning: some of you may find some of this offensive. I truly do not mean anyone offense, but speaking as a very pale person who doesn't eat people who can look genuinely frightening in bad lighting, maybe this is a personal opinion but I would not like to come across a very pale person who actually DOES eat people. FYI -- Megan =sister-in-law.