Ten Things that Make Me Happy, Cause It's Finals, Y'all

1~Pink underpants

2~Painted toenails in loud, obnoxious colors
3~Lemon cookies with frosting *yum*
4~Scratchy beards
5~Tiny polka dots
6~Vashti Bunyan
7~Strappy sandals
8~Boston Terriers named Gertie
9~Fresh haircuts on Shug
10~Sister hugs

What are your ten things that make you happy?
Thanks to Taza for the idea!

Le sigh.

I may have an aversion to powder pink, but this fuchsia dress with the bodice sent straight from heaven is awesome.
Damn you Anthropologie. Damn you!

What my Paper is About.

So, I've been up for a large portion of last night and a good portion of the early morning to finish a paper that is due at 12:55 this afternoon.

Am I finished with it yet? Of course not!

But I will take a few lines to tell you what my stupid paper is about. It's essentially about the iPhone. It's about how the iPhone has wedged its low-profile, sexy touch-screen way between me and my Shug.

For example: When we're chillaxin' (I blame Brocabulary for this and ruining my life...) on the couch watching a movie, sweet Shug will be texting, checking email, playing Goopy Car or some B.S., etc. READ: Completely enraptured by his iPhone.

Now, that's all good and fine, except that I really like the snippets of time we get to spend together and when I have to rehash every movie scene for Shug, it gets a little old.

So my paper is about telling the iPhone to get its own boyfriend!!!

Completely and Utterly Not House Related

Summer sandals.
Dreaming of drinking gin and tonics and wearing these little beauties.
LOTS of gin and tonics.
Ok.
Maybe just gin.

I only have half of my final paper finished and I am busying myslef with footwear.
Typical.

Are we there yet?

We have been sanding, priming, and painting for the last 48 hours.
Are we close to moving in?
.
.
.
.
.
.

Not even.

Kitchen Knobs

Decisions.
Help!

Totes.

How pretty is this tote bag? I would not forget this when I go to the grocery store.
Woodroots on Etsy.
Love. This.

So I Guess Stinking is the New Black

We went to see the Atlanta band the Black Lips last night. Not only was I so pleased with the golden grin of one of the guitarists, I was also excited to have a short (and very late night on a school night) reprieve from my mountains of final projects and papers. The band was hirsute and adorable. What more could a gal ask for?

But....I think I missed a hipster-memo, because a large part of the evening was spent with me seriously considering pulling out my neon-orange earplugs and sticking them in my nose holes. Since when is it cool to smell like week-old B.O.??

I know there usually are a token few show-goers who get a little ripe sweating in their poly-blend thrift store scores, but I'm talking girls and boys with carefully concocted Urban Outfitters uniforms stinking like burnt rubber and periods. Yes, I just said smelling like periods. The not-punctuation-kind-of-period.

Gross?!?! Um, YEAH, it's gross! What the...? Hippies, for the most part, at least have some convoluted rationale as to why they are conserving water or something...But hipster kids? Give me a break. I GET it. You are so cool I can SMELL it.

Maybe White Walls Are ok...

We are running into one of many dillemmas with the painting of our new-old house.
Shug and I can't agree on colors to save our lives!

We have furniture for our living room that is already pretty bold and bright, so I am kinda sorta leaning towards light neutrals, greys, or even white for that room...

What do you think?

Is there another word for *squee!*?

DEAD MAN'S BONES - "NAME IN STONE" from biz3 publicity on Vimeo.

Um, yeah, Ryan Gosling has a band. And it's not half bad.

More.

I really like how simple this dress is, but drapes so beautifully!

Picking a wedding dress is not an easy task.

ShopFlick.

Pale, Rabid, Aging Hipsters

I managed to crawl out of my Saturday morning bed, complete with a white fluffy comforter dappled with sunlight and a warm and snore-less Shug to make it to Slowtrain for Record Store Day.

Bad decision.

Even though we'd managed to make it to the shop about half an hour after they opened, most of the records sweet Shug were drooling over were already gone.

Where did they go? Multiple copies were trapped in the clammy grasps of about five or six anemic, graying hipsters whose main source of income was clearly eBay, the only rationale I could come to, since one individual had about a dozen copies of a single record clutched to his sunken chest, along with dozens more.

The small space was crowed and eye contact was avoided at all costs, except with my apparently enrapturing boobs. Personal space bubbles were being destroyed all around us and the anxiety levels were starting to make ME uncomfortable.

The silver lining to taking "the girls" on an unannounced parade was that Slowtrain was busy...and making money!

And side note to these poor lads who ventured out into the public to score some Record Day treasure: Sunscreen.

Smells Funky

Well, we finally were able to get into our new-old house yesterday! Shug was so sweet and carried me across the threshold and I was sweet because I brought champagne and chilled flutes for us to toast with...

One of the teensy issues we'd had with the house before purchasing was a malodorous aroma, a "funk" if you will, that we'd automatically attributed to the Crock Pot o' Death that had been simmering away at a cow shoulder when we first looked at the house.

A week later, after the sellers had accepted our offer, the home inspector commented on how there was a green stink in the air of the main floor. Shug and I were hoping it was just the pot roast's last hurrah before clean, fresh air replaced the lingering beefiness.

Cut to yesterday, house emptied of all scent-impregnated furniture, rugs, and cookery....The damn house still smells!

I'm taking any stink eradicating suggestions now.


P.S. I am kind of loving the fact that Dutch Boy has smell killing paint....20 gallons, please!

P.P.S. Look how bright and awesome neutrals can be! Courtesy of design*sponge.

Pretty

When I Grow Up from Fever Ray on Vimeo.

I'm all over the place.

Insomnia, how well you and I have gotten to know each other! You are a pestering companion when I need blessed sleep the most. Read: When it's finals.

Not only do you keep me awake into the wee hours of the morning, but you enable me to surf the internets for wedding dresses I can't afford, much less decide on.

Thank you for your constant persistence. It's a real shame after we've danced all night together my eyeballs look like I've plucked them out and played a few rounds of craps with them. My skin resembles the Crypt Keeper's from Tales From the Crypt, after a long, slumber-less night. Thank you so much for that.

Here's to a relationship that will last.

Belated birthday presents....

...are the best! Look at what my bestest gave me to help plan for Shug's and my honeymoon road trip! The best gifts are always the most thoughtful ones! She's an avid reader, like me, and also gave me this.

I'm a little excited that I get to read a book that's not a textbook in t-minus 14 days...!

Where should we go on our travels? Any great places in Oregon and Washington we absolutely must see??

When a gal gets stressed....

...she buys things she's been coveting online for an entire winter...

These Fryes needed a home and I will be so good to them. Promise.

Poet

There was so much I took home with me after my study abroad in Valparaiso, Chile (and none of it needed antibiotics!)...But one of my most favorite things was a new-found love for Pablo Neruda.

I was able to visit his cottage by the sea, Casa la Isla Negra and walk the same route to university he took every day in Valpo...chills!

One evening after too much wine and broken Spanish with some friends, I stopped in a bookstore and bought Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada (Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair). It was a small chapbook and you had to rip the folded pages apart to get to the prose inside. I felt like I was opening a love letter written just for me each time I ripped a new page and read a new poem.

I struggled through the Spanish, well into the early morning.

Read this.

He was an activist, a lover, and one of the best poets to grace published pages.

Photo from the Selby.

Feathers

Ooh la la.

Sold out (!) at BonaDrag.com.

The Hurry-Up and Wait Game is over...!

The wait is finally over!! After almost exactly a month, to the day, after we put in an offer on a lovely Granny Bungalow, we are closing on it today!

Things Shug and I learned in the interim:

1. We are really stressed out people that stress each other out even more when we are together.
2. We are two of the most impatient people on the planet.
3. Adulthood does come in the form of a mortgage payment.
4. Choosing paint colors is not a good way to de-stress from aforementioned Waiting Game.
5. Buying a house means you can then buy a lil' doggie.
6. I really wanted to buy a house just so I could get a lil' doggie.
7. Shug wanted to buy a house just to use up my nose-job savings.
8. We are both so ok with my non-carved nose, new Granny Bungalow, and lil' doggie on the way!

What kind of puppy should we get?

Vanité beaucoup plus tard.

SO how'd the ol' chemical peel go?

Am I disfigured for life or a beautiful butterfly that has emerged from its chrysalis?

Neither.

I am definitely lacking in the freckle department now and I have a weird hot-pink patch of skin on my left cheekbone. When I put a little cheekstain on my right cheek, I look positively symmetrical!

Was it worth a week of hiding and rude stares from strangers?

Meh. While I feel I do look refreshed, I don't think a week recoup time was a fair trade...

And thank you, all you sweeties, who think I'm nuts, too! I am, you know.

Wedding Registry!

So, Shug and I have decided to think a little outside the box when it comes to wedding registries...We've existed in cohabitation for over two years and during that time have accumulated enough living essentials that it seems a wedding registry for the traditional pots and pans is unnecessary.

Our tastes also lead us away from a single store to find all of our home and living needs. Can Target really be our answer for everything from artichokes roasters to a weed eater?

So in the advent of a new house(!) we've decided there are many, many wonderful things that we've found to fill our new space and backyard from many, many sites!

Hence the registry blog: shugandbabydoll.blogspot.com!

You should check it out for a good laugh.

Have you read the NieNie Dialogues?

I was late on the scene to the blog the NieNie Dialogues, which I started reading late last summer. It was a blog filled with the trials and tribulations of being a stay-at-home-mom, but instead of the "dooce"-esque hilarity of the insults of motherhood, the NieNie Dialogues were a true celebration of being a mom and being present for four (!) kids.

I was so fascinated by the pared down life she and her family led. She is conventional in her beliefs and domesticity, yet she was, and remains, so unconventional in her prose and creativity when it comes to the details of being a mom.

I had been reading the archives and the new posts of NieNie for a little over a month when tragedy struck: NieNie and her husband were in a small airplane crash and both suffered near-fatal injuries.

NieNie's writing has taken a different direction, she is strong, honest, and sweet. She shares so much with her readers it is difficult to read a new post without tears squeezing their way out of my eyes. She is so candid in her writing and her way of dealing with her long road to recovery brings only one word to mind: grace.

Read a few posts and I'm sure you'll be hooked.

Ah, Academia.

I'm usually pretty apologetic for my diarrhea mouth.

I have run the gamut of really crappy things to say to people at even crappier times. The real gift of the foot-in-mouth-individual is their impeccable timing at delivering the checkmate. Some of the gorier examples:

"Oh, you just had a new baby!? It's got ten fingers and ten toes, right?" The damn infant had ELEVEN fucking fingers.

"You're not really fat, you just have a really great personality that lets people get around your appearance!" Enough said.

"Holy shit, what happened to you?" A really really really awful face lift/chemical peel that invoked images of a cheese grater to the face while being caught in a NASA wind tunnel.

So, yeah, I admit that I have issues with not only timing but a profound lack of social graces. But when I was smacked down in front of my classmates by an adjunct for my erroneous contrast of Alzheimer's patients and addicts, it felt really unjustified!

I mean, getting diagnosed with Alzheimer's is a UNIDIRECTIONAL voyage. There is no "coming back" from the edge or beating the odds. At least there exists an OPTION for recovery with addiction. Yes, I think that addiction is a disease and yes, it's a struggle...but shit, at least there are odds to face.

Invitation Insanity

Did you know how much paper costs?

Did you know how much paper that is a pretty color costs?

Do you now how much pretty paper that is a pretty color folded into the shape of an envelope costs?

An ASS-load.

In which Wes Anderson and I make up.

When the Darjeeling Limited came out a couple of years ago, I was joined in line and excitement by individuals with hipster and indie leanings (and absolutely fabulous haircuts) on opening night. I even was prepped by Shug's BFBF (Best Fellow Bearded Friend) by watching "Hotel Chevalier" on his spanking new and oh-so-coveted iPhone right before the show.

I was SO ready to fall in love again with Wes and his new creation, but after the credits rolled I was more than disappointed! I waxed philosophic about how formulaic Wes's storylines were and how each character was more of a caricature composed solely of nervous tics and fabulous clothes. In a word, I felt cheated.

Every other time I'd left the theatre after a Wes Anderson film, I had loved the way the movie made me feel. That kind of warm, satiated feeling one gets right before you drift off for an afternoon nap is similar to my sentiments while viewing the Royal Tenenbaums or Rushmore. And just like afternoon naps, I usually talk at length about these almost fabled occurrences. Meticulous planning and anticipation lead up to a Wes Anderson film...likewise for a long luxurious midday nap.

So imagine my dismay when The Darjeeling Limited failed to reach my lofty expectations. Almost two years later, I decided to give ol' Wes another go...

And I loved the movie the second time around! I loved the quirks, the music, the absolutely expected plot twists and most of all I loved the contented reflective daze that the rolling credits left me in...It was overdone, but I have to believe Wes wanted it that way...or I'd hate it still.

Well. Adrian Brody running in slow-mo didn't hurt the situation, either.

Oh it gets better than a weddin' dress - weddin' shoes!

These are for after the heels come off, in my old age I have about a four hour time limit on the heels...And about a three drink limit, too, come to think of it...

They are a deeper, more mustardy perfection than the picture. I'm a little bit in love with these.

Vanité plus tard.

Sooooo, I've been using this impending wedding to excuse a LOT of behavior I would otherwise turn my nose up at.

Now before images of a behemoth bridezilla, stuffed into a corseted gown eleventeen sizes too small, with rosy flesh boiling over the top of her dress, barking orders and using the tantrum to best communicate her distaste for the frosting pattern on the wedding cake comes to mind...let me stop you....

I have been using the wedding as an excuse...not to torment and pillage for my one day as a princess, I've used the wedding to justify behavior that isn't even related to weddings and the planning therein.

Case in point: I decided I need to get a rhinoplasty before the blessed event. Why, you ask? Because I have a teensy issue with my nose, and since the unthinkable is happening (I'm getting married) let's continue the insanity and get clipped.

Two plastic surgeons said I was crazy and I agree. But, as any good plastic surgeon knows, never ever ever let a possible client out of your office without shilling some other life-changing procedure....

And so I got a chemical peel. Do I have wrinkles? No. A birthmark? No. Freckles? A few and we've grown fond of each other. So why have my face melted off? I still don't know. Can't I just answer "I'm getting married!"?

My scab-encrusted face tells me, "No, you sweet, stupid ass. You can't use your wedding as an excuse." She's right, you know.

The "f" all y'all garland....

Winner?

via OnceWed.com

Garlands

I am a gal that teeters on the edge of craftiness...I adore DIY projects when they are on paper and I can see all the steps needed to create your own beautiful piece. I even go so far as to compile all of my supplies and machinery to conduct said projects.

If one were to question my sewing machine, a Brother, if it had gotten any company since the Christmas it was opened, he would question YOU as to why you have him confused with a sewing machine! He has been busy since Christmas '07 holding down the table he's graced quietly for over a year.

So with impending wedding insanity and our wedding budget quickly disappearing under the cost of cheap wine and rental fees, I thought it may behoove our pocketbooks to make the decorations ourselves.

Here are some cute banner ideas that I feel 80% capable of completing, so since the wedding is still four months away, I think this is an attainable feat given that I started two months ago.

All photos and directions courtesy of OnceWed.com

Beige Shoes

Is the spiky one and the grommet one a little too CFM for a weddin'?

Yellows and Whites

Loving this on a grey day.

Stem Trimming in Progress

I am in pre-spring (read: pre-shorts and pre-skirts) panic mode. My winter of indulgence, hibernation, couch contouring, and public television obsession - Rick Steve's Europe and Cook's Country Kitchen cannot be missed! - has gotten me to the lumpiest point I've ever been.

I, at first and for a very long stint, tried blaming my roomie for the muffin top. Then I blamed stress. Then I blamed George W. ...shit, I can't do that anymore!

Could it be my steady intake of holiday-themed Peeps, dried to varying degrees of gourmet crispiness? Maybe it could be my not-so-new found love of Jalapeno Cheetos with their fluorescent glow that I am drawn to not unlike a, well, me to a shoe sale ? Dinners of instant mashed Mormon Potatoes with sour cream and cheese couldn't have had any effect on my exponentially expanding ass real estate...

Well, crunch time is upon me, not because the weather promises to warm up, but my sweet Sissy insisted on ordering a bridesmaid's dress for me that is just a liiiitle too small. A non-returnable, robin's egg blue abomination that I must curse, wiggle and quite possibly Spanx my way into in a little over a month away. Eeep.

Played Out

I know, I know, I know. It's so over and SATC dropped this shit last century, but a not so itty-bitty part of me wants a name necklace sosososo.
Persuade me otherwise.
Really.
Please.

Wedding Ideas That are Cheap and Chic - Papel Picado

These could make the lovliest banners for a reception! I love that you can get them custom made with you and your Shug's name. I really like the idea of just white papel picados fluttering in the brezze on a warm summer wedding day;)

What do you think?

Invitation Innovation

How awesome are these eco-friendly Save the Dates? And the proverbial question must be asked: What's better than faux bois? Bois, bitches!!!!!

Find these lovelies at nightowlpapergoods.com.

But cheese is so so delicious...

I know, I know, I know....