(N + O) New + Old.
ha! i missed yesterday, but today i’m back with a double-post, a humdinger of a post, a whapdoodle of a post…
i’m pretty sure that last one was made up. has anyone heard anything being described as a whapdoodle?
and see, now i’m worried that i’ve hyped it up too much and you’ll just be disappointed. it’s like what happened to me with the matrix. back when the movie the matrix came out, it’s all i heard about for weeks. from everyone. it’s like occupy wall street. or twilight. or, if you’re local, the new logo and tagline for our fair city, which makes it look like we all play for a rest-home-sponsored little league team circa 1993.
and the more i heard about it, the less i wanted to see it. (i wasn’t much of a joiner at the time. it was/is one of my unfortunate, skinny-jeans-wearing, eye-rolling, hipster traits. i hate myself.) i ended up seeing it years later, after all the hype went away, and my mind remained un-blown by the viewing.
so, forget everything i said about this post. it’s your average, friday post. nothing special. nope.
except it’s a little special. you’ll see why.
several months ago, the boy and i went to the denver modernism show. he had some artwork up there, so we drove on up to visit it and see the rest of the show. i kind of expected it to be just a normal art show, albeit held in an enormous event center typically reserved for cattle and farm-related exhibitions. lots of paintings, artists, wine, and we’d be out in about 45 minutes.
whoa. i was wrong.
this place was packed to the brim with everything modern you could think of: furniture, art, tchotchkes, books, gadgets, and a live pageant of some kind. (to be honest, the pageant was a little weird). i should point out that when i say modern, i mean modern in the design sense, not in the time/futuristic sense, so picture more 50′s furniture and less modern dance from dieter.
we spent hours poring over vintage books, pretending to eat dinner at the authentic 50′s kitchen sets, and drooling over the furniture we will own SOMEDAY, right? these people love their old stuff (and i do too).
oh, and the boy’s painting also won an award.
we did find a few things that we loved and that handily fit the capabilities of our wallet, including these lovelies:
and, in action (with some inadvertent side-eye):
gorgeous, no?
and the best part is that the silvery-grey color goes with almost anything, but makes it that much more fun because it’s SHINY. at first i imagined they would be reserved for dressy outfits, but i’m finding that i like to wear them as a neutral earring for whatever it is that i dig out of the closet to wear. to prove my point, here’s what i’m wearing my earrings with today:
and that’s why this post is special, see, because of this little picture right here. if it isn’t (painfully) obvious, a fashion blogger I AM NOT. (gasp! what, you say? no, never!) this is why i will never be a fashion blogger, or someone who often posts envy-worthy outfit pictures, or anything close to it — because, i look like an idiot. from the ridiculous surprised look on my face, as if to say “what ho! who goes there! i see land ahead!” to the odd standing-on-one-foot pose (seriously, i don’t remember doing that…maybe people look skinnier with one leg?), my career as a fashion-anything (other than enthusiast) is D.O.A.
but no matter, because the point of this is to show you that sparkly awesome antique earrings have a place in your every day (affordable) wardrobe. the shirt and jeans are old navy, the sweater is h&m, and the earrings are from a basket in an event center, or what the fashionable people call “vintage”, which just means old.
they are actually vintage, however. i’m pretty sure that fastening mechanisms have come a long way since the screw-post on these babies. at first, if we’re being honest, it’s a little pinchy. but that lasts for about 2 minutes why you admire yourself (on one leg, of course) in the mirror, and by the time you’re done, it’s gone.
they’re my favorite new/old things ever right now, so much so that it made me write a song about them, sung to the tune of the old girl scout favorite campfire hymn, “make new friends” (they hit the chorus at the 10-second mark):
buy new earrings
especially if they’re old.
go for silver
unless you’re into gold.
{M} Marcel the Shell With Shoes On: Part 2
Remember Marcel the Shell with Shoes On?
This adorable creature inspired a book:
And now he’s back with more.
I love this little shell. I would totally dress up as Marcel for Halloween, if I liked dressing up in costume.
My favorite bits:
“We slept 8 to the muffin.”
“I would call myself Sheldon Conch.”
“We don’t have newspapers, but sometimes I read a receipt.”
“Treats & snoozing, snoozing & treats. That’s it.”
“Oh god, I can smell his face.”
(engagement photo courtesy of jannelle althoff)
Last week, my friend Kayla left me a comment asking this:
I want to know how you pick your books. Do you see them in a store with a fancy cover? Do you read of them in magazines or other blogs? Or are you following some sort of list?
Oooh, I do love questions.
[Reading note: tangent approaching. Buckle in.]
Why? I think (besides the obvious assumption that perhaps I can be self-involved at times — who isn’t?) it’s that questions do several things for us. For one, they show curiosity and interest in the questioner, which is a delightful trait in other people. After high school I took essentially a “gap” year where I went to a program that espouses to build service, leadership and spiritual development. Although I don’t think it really taught me what it intended, I got way more out of it than even I expected, mostly in the form of some of my favorite people EVER with whom I am still friends. One of those friends is Kristin. Someone asked me once what made her one of my favorite people ever, and I remember telling them this:
She’s the type of person who makes you feel as if you are the most interesting person in the room when she’s talking to you.
I think that comes from a place of genuine curiosity, as Kristin is obsessed with so many things in the most delightful way possible. Part of how she makes others feel so interesting? She asks them questions, genuinely (or at least faking it really well) interested in what they have to say.
The other reasons I think we like questions about ourselves are related: they cause us to reflect and they allow us to be an expert for once.
I am not an expert, by any means. When I was a kid — and, who am I kidding, still now as an adult — I was obsessed with the Olympics. I mean, OBSESSED. I would take out the TV Guide that I got out of the newspaper, since I felt bad about stealing the actual TV Guide magazine that my friend’s mom got each week, and pore over it to map out my Olympic-watching schedule. I performed my interpretation of ice-skating routines in my socks behind the large, olive-colored recliner my dad sat in. I practiced my flip-turns (while holding my nose, of course) at the pool. I accompanied my stuffed animals on the Olympic podium in my room, awarding medals and waving to the crowd.
You would think that this obsession would mean that I was an athlete.
I was and am not.
What I really was enamored with, beyond the beauty and athleticism of olympic sports, was that these people were experts. They were focused and dedicated enough to be the very best at something.
I never had that kind of dedication or focus to a singular thing. I often longed for that particular sequence of DNA to show up magically in my blueprints. At other times in my life, I even hated myself for liking too many things, as if that was a sign of weakness and unreliability.
I’ve grown up a little since then. What was once a perceived weakness is now an asset to what I do.
But from this experience, I grew to love being asked questions about myself, because — for once — it was a subject I could speak about as an honest-to-god expert. I am an expert on me, so ask away. Pretty, pretty please. I (luckily) learned how to temper that (most of the time) by developing a genuine curiosity about other people, too, which saved me from becoming a pompous jerk at all times to everyone around me. Thank God.
However, some things never change, because when my friend Kayla asked me her question recently in my comments, I immediately got real excited (comment + question = awesome). The way to my heart is paved with a question mark, people.
[Reading note: Here's where we finally get back on track. Geez...]
So, here is my answer:
(image linked of jessica hische’s book covers which I love.)
Good question! I find books a bunch of different ways. Once I discovered that I could pay library fines online, I returned to the library after a long, shameful absence that came from my wanting to avoid the steely admonishment by the desk clerk when I paid my fines in person. (I will probably always have library book fines. And crumbs in my purse.) This return to the library helped open up more books to me, because I wasn’t worried if I’d regret buying them. Here’s how I’ve found the most recent books I’ve read this year:
1. The Internet Machine.
I follow a few different bloggers/tumblrs, some of whom are avid readers and talk about the books they’re reading. I also check out the New York Times Bestseller list for some of the big titles right now. Around this time of year, I’ll check out the end-of-year lists that are published to see a compendium of books I should possibly check out this year. I’ll even do a google search like this to find lists, although I find this is the best way of finding a list of classics that might interest me. [Jay-Z's Decoded and the Steve Jobs biography I started/finished last week came from a blogger and the NYTimes, respectively).
But, you often find books mentioned in an article not about books. On my list right now is Born to Run, which I had seen on my friends Garrett & Courtney's bookshelf, but became interested after I read this article in the NY Times.
2. Magazines.
I read several different magainzes -- right now, Vanity Fair and Wired are at the top of the list -- and V.F. has a section called "Hot Type" that previews a bunch of different authors and books. Sometimes one of them piques my interest, so I'll check it out.
3. The Bookstore.
Good design often gets me into a book. When I wander around the bookstores, a good cover will pull me in, and good jacket writing can seal the deal. I was sold on a book I read last month, Little Bee by Chris Cleave, for it's cover design -- although, I had heard about this book mentioned casually on a blog I follow a few months earlier.
4. My Online Book Club
A few friends and I have a very, very loose book club online at Goodreads (we're all in different parts of the country) where we suggest a book for the month, read it, and then post what we thought. I LONG for a real-life book club with cocktails and food and more talk about the book and life in general, but I do not have similar taste in books as any of my friends, it seems, and nobody is all that interested. One day, one day. This is the closest we come, and I end up reading books that I wouldn't have chosen but are glad I read (see: Emma Donahue's Room, which was a book club selection).
5. My bookshelf.
Seriously, I own more books than I've read, which is ridiculous. So, I either need to get rid of books (I do) or I need to start reading them (I do). Or, more honestly, I need to finish books that I've started and then abandoned. I have that nasty habit sometimes. Some of my favorite authors live on my bookshelf, though, so I often will check to see if they have a new book coming out. Chuck Klosterman's book The Visible Man came about that way, and so did Dave Eggers' book Zeitoun (which I finally read this year and was amazing) came from seeing other books they wrote on my shelf and then checking out books of theirs that I haven't read.
So, there's where I find books to read. I like good books, but that means that I like a lot of different kinds of books. I mix it up a lot. In order to keep the pipeline filled, though, I found that I needed to log them somewhere that I can remember them when I'm ready to read something. If you can find a way to record what you read in the same place, that works great. This online idea is kind of cool. If you are into the journal thing, they have several book journals that are lovely for this sort of thing. This is one I kind of like:
My sorry excuse for a system is a combination of putting newer books on hold and getting on the waiting list, sticky notes on my mac, and writing them in my spybook.
Also, forgetting wholeheartedly about it and then picking it up years later when you remember you had wanted to read it? Works great too.
I also love to lend books, so if you're local (or don't mind shipping it back to me when you're done if you aren't), I'll send them your way, because I'm all old-fashioned, and don't read books on computers. Everything else, sure. But not books.
Happy reading...and if you want any suggestions or to ask me any other questions about the subjects on which I am an expert (read: me), ask away.
[Reading note: you made it. Drinks for everyone.]
Update: I’m considering reading Moby-Dick next after reading an article about a book that someone wrote about it. Anyone want to weigh in? Epic idea, or just epically bad? Especially my English-y friends, I’m looking right at you.
{K} kids “music”.
i watched this kids “music” video the other day, if we’re using that term loosely. but seriously—it’s one of the best things i’ve seen all week. it is ALL kinds of special, people. yeah.. just…wow.
it should be mentioned:
- the chorus might be stuck in your frontal lobe for weeks. sorry i’m not sorry, as it is still stuck in mine.
- if your kids like obnoxious music, DO NOT SHOW THIS TO THEM. they will beg you for it, which you will soon regret. you’ve been warned.
- the overly-earnest informational breakdown sesh at the 2-minute mark is, i feel, particularly awesome.
(i), i, i, me, me, me.
a little navel-gazing for your mid-week posting here. but, as an extra-special alphabetical treat, i’ve made them all start with I, even if i’ve had to shove my words into their proverbial one-size too small ‘this will start with the letter I!’ pants and MAKE THEM FIT. i’m not sure what a muffin-top made of words looks like, but here you go.
{impresario}
i am currently reading my 16th book of the year, which is way more than i thought would actually happen:
i’m about about 1/5 of the way through this 600-page book, but already i find it compelling enough that i want to read all day. however, it’s not compelling in the “bow at the altar of steve jobs” kind of way, or the “let’s backlash against the apple worshippers lamenting his death” kind of way either. it’s an interesting piece of our cultural history, and leaves you wondering if you respect, like or admire steve jobs more or less than when you started the book. in short, it’s provocative without being controversial. malcolm gladwell writes much more eloquently about its merits here, in an article that is entirely worth your attention, even if you don’t agree.
either way, after 150ish pages, i just want to give Woz a big hug and sit and marvel at my computer and all it’s fancy fanciness that i take for granted.
i also want to take an electronics class.
{interior design}
at the end of every year, my business partner (read: husband) and i sometimes end up investing money in our business or retirement accounts for tax reasons. i’d get into all the details, except that it makes my head explode. suffice it to say, this year we may need to look at things that our business needs and spend money on them, which i’ve translated into “Why, yes, your home office needs a makeover.” my first stop is to replace my perfectly adequate industrial, ugly office chair with this:
i mean, i’d rather own an actual eames chair (drool-o-rama), but i don’t have giraffe money (i.e. having money be of such no object that you could feasibly house, feed, and care for a giraffe, in addition to knowing how much that cost). one day.
{interrobang}
aside from its less-than-elegant visual appeal, i really wish this punctuation (a combination between the exclamation point and a question mark) caught on. instead, we have the hyperbolic ?!?!?. so clunky.
{ice cream substitute}
this is TASTY.
i don’t even care if it’s cold outside. like amy, i embrace the cold. i fight cold with more cold. and gelato.
you’ll want to try the raspberry.
{ill-advised}
drinking the free beer and eating the free chocolate chips they hand out this hotel. i think the settlers in the colony are revolting, and by settlers, i mean fat, and by colony, i mean everywhere select parts on my body.
and i mean revolting in every sense of the word, verbal and adjectival.
(H)iatus or (H)ell to the No.
oh, it’s only been a week and already i’m taking a hiatus. a brief one–one day (today) from posting anything. well, anything of merit, because we can clearly see i’m posting something.
nit-picky, you are.
i blame the following things for my ragey rage that’s all ragey which is the main reason for my 1-day hiatus of Posting Hopefully Interesting But At Least Temporarily Procrastinatory Things For You To Read, or PHIBALTPTPFYTRs, and instead counteracting everyone who is posting the things they are thankful for all month on facebook with one fell swoop:
- the college boys next door who are apparently getting a 4.0 in being loud and video games. they are the valedictorians of not being able to control the volume of their voice or any electronic appliances.
- the general not-having-itness that comes from spending nearly two months living out of 2.5 suitcases, 6 whole foods bags, an iced tea maker, 2 messenger bags, 1 kermit the frog green reusable bag that i got as a groomsmaid gift from the harms’ wedding (hi holly & ben!), and 1 green purse.
- feeling inert and my running shoes giving me the nasty side-eye
- the internet with filling my brain with so much stimuli that it often turns to blergh (30rock anyone?) does anyone else get the occasional feeling of chronic missing the boatness from the said internet machine?
- all that sugar i ate yesterday. it was pleasant at the time, but i’m way over the sugar-over i’m feeling today.
- people who say “we was” instead of “we were”, besmirching my grammatically sensitive ears
have i mentioned my ragey red rage? it’s ragey.
and, to make sure we’ve been an equal opportunity blamer, i’m hereby blaming:
- el nino
- al qaeda
- the democrats
- the liberals
- the 99 and/or 1 percent
- that weird looking chicken nugget i ate earlier
- my husband for having the audacity to have a morning alarm (wha?) and turning a light on at the time we’re supposed to get up (the nerve!)
- the kardashians
THIS HAS BEEN A POST.
update:
p.s. everything is fine. you know, in the general sense. with my ragey rage next time, perhaps i’ll use more emoticons, like my husband’s uncle does. after each text message phrase, he follows it with something like this: 
. every. single. time. not with each message, but with each sentence in the message.
p.p.s. i mean, how bad can things be when you have a west wing animated gif? c.j., for the win.
p.p.p.s. i’m not living out of the iced tea maker, as my syntax would lead you to believe. but we do carry it wherever we go. under our job descriptions, it should read ‘tea drinker’.
THIS HAS BEEN AN UPDATE. 
{G} giggles.
gah, this kid kills me.
{my nephew benjamin, with the best laugh ever last weekend.}
it’s sideways for some inexplicable reason because apple can’t always get all of its crap together at once, and i’m a bit too lazy to rotate it at this point.
however, just close your eyes and listen, or tilt left —
and trust me, your day will get much better.
you’re welcome.
{F} fiona apple, 2011 catalogue model.
i’m not completely sure what possessed me to re-watch fiona apple’s video from her 1997 song criminal. i think it might have shown up on my tumblr readings, or i thought about it while listening to one of her happier songs this weekend.
regardless, i ended up last night watching criminal on youtube, and it was just as disturbing as when i saw it when i was 16, but for (mostly) entirely different reasons. my best friend at the time was a guy named dan, who LOVED fiona apple. (and poetry, e.e. cummings, guns, working on cars, and having long hair. not your average teenage dude.) he listened to it a lot, and because i had yet to go through my depressing period of time (that came later in seattle) i didn’t connect much to fiona apple’s music, although i rather liked how it sounded.
i particularly liked the song criminal, because, well, it’s a really good song. i wasn’t allowed to watch MTV at my house, so i avoided seeing the video for a number of months, until it came on over at a friend’s house.
i was…disturbed. i don’t even think i could fully put my finger on it, as nothing really explicit was happening in the video, but it just skeeved me the heck out. i was a pretty good girl, and it just seemed so dark and twisty and creepy. and i don’t think the bruises all over her helped. the guys i knew thought it was both creepy and weirdly kind of hot (the boy confirms this to be true) but i didn’t get that at the time. i was not a dark and creepy teenager, even though i kind of wanted to be.
dark times certainly came later, but creepy always eluded me.
in fact, a few years later, after a little more life lived and boy heartbreak, i dug up my fiona apple CD’s and ms. apple and i got along on a whole new level, but i never saw another video of hers again.
fast-forward to last night.
watching the video again, i was disturbed, but for adult reasons. the same adult reasons that cause me to balk at shortened text message-speak and give the side-eye to loud kids at a restaurant and go to bed at 8pm like i did last night.
i’m just too old for this business.
i mean, i’m not old, but i’m too old for the entertainment of the young people.
here are my thoughts when watching the video now, as a 30-year-old:
1. sad houses are usually not this nice-looking (i mean, without the dingy-porn-lighting). i mean, this house is remarkably well-furnished (there’s an expensive eames chair and a sports car in the first 30 seconds) for being, presumably, a Lair of Destitution.
2. that red-eye business makes her look like a rat. how is that attractive? they should really make a button to remove that from video/pictures. so unflattering. oh wait…there’s a button for that. 1997, meet 2011.
3. sleeping on concrete looks really uncomfortable. why would anyone make a bed on a concrete block? i thought this house-owner had money.
4. who’s holding the camera in the bathtub? aren’t they afraid they’re going to drop it in the tub? cameras are expensive. and, more importantly, someone else’s bath feet are about 2 inches from her FACE. i’d freak the crap out. i don’t like other people’s wet feet touching me. or dry feet touching me. let’s just make that feet touching me in general.
5. i get the pizza & bottles littering the floor, half-naked women strewn about and cameras…but the vacuum sitting out? nothing says party like attempting to suck up the crumbs, amiright?
6. and what’s with the oranges in the bathtub? won’t those go bad? there’s, like, 8 oranges there — enough to make juice! that juice would be so tasty. and healthy.
a decade ago i thought she looked so strung out and weird in the video, which i think was the point.
now, she just looks like an urban outfitter’s model.
times i have changed.
(E) + L
my friend sarah just had twin baby boys, and they are delicious. i mean, to look at. i would never try to eat a baby. maybe some toes, but that’s it. i got to hold them for hours the other weekend and caught a few moments on film.
{i love the little wrinkly face L byrd is making in the left photo, and the nice little side-eye he’s given me on the right–like, what gives lady? let me sleep!}
{this is little E byrd with his dad.}
one of the best things about sarah’s pregnancy was that their last name is byrd, so before we knew their names (which i won’t share as i don’t know how they’d feel about their names being on the internet, but trust me their names are SO CUTE) we knew them only as
the baby byrds.
i mean, come on. cute overload. you can only imagine how much bird-related stuff they have. beyond cute. you can see some of what i’m talking about from the lovely baby shower we hosted with our good friend and event planner at smash events, ashlee.
just the cutest little birds byrds i’ve ever seen.
