Skirt with a story

My mom found this green boiled wool fabric in a small village in the mountains of Germany. She traveled home to Utah and made me this envy-inducing skirt. My mother-in-law and Ryan (I know, right?) helped me finish it. Somehow the story of it makes it more divine.

Oh, and I'm going to be traveling for a week so I won't likely post until I get back next Tuesday.
Happy Thanksgiving!

Jack is back!

Binging at its worst

Warning: Do not mix large quantities of these items.

Way too early this morning, I woke up convinced that a baseball - composed of ground up Fritos and sugar from Haagen-Dazs sorbet - was sitting in the depths of my stomach. It just felt painful at first. Then warm saliva pooling onto my tongue prompted me to run - not walk - to the bathroom. I landed at the foot of my toilet and barked out several coughs, each time tasting the Fritos more and more. Then it all came out.

I spent the rest of my early morning laying in bed, thinking about why I chose those particular snacks to binge on the night before. I didn't have a large dinner because I haven't gone to the grocery store in over a week. Ryan was writing a paper, so I was relegated ;) to the television, watching old and new episodes of Top Chef. Before I knew it, I had the raspberry sorbet container in my hands and I was slowly enjoying all of its fat-free goodness. I enjoyed a little too much of it (half the container) and decided that I needed something salty to counteract all of that sugar. That's when the Fritos came in. And boy, did they come in. The food on Top Chef must have distracted me from all of the greasy nastiness (Another run to the bathroom in 3, 2, 1...).

I went to bed feeling far too full. I woke up and completely emptied out a couple of times. Only I still feel awful - especially since I can't even look at the Haagen-Dazs in my freezer without feeling warm saliva pooling onto my tongue...

Wishing

Every day I check Thomas Paul pillow-selling Web sites to see if his pillows will magically drop from $100 each to $30 or below. It hasn't happened yet, so I just like to stare at them here online. They would look fantastic on my couch.

Design*sponge recently held an ugly pillow contest. The winners received Thomas Paul pillows - and they deserved them. Check it out.

Optical delusion

They're jeans...
No, they're skirts...
Wait. They're just some more heinous Etsy finds and they are all yours for just $42 each.

Quirk number two: I am compelled to expose all of my flaws to the world

I am disorganized and messy. I ruin most of the food I attempt to make. The television is my most trusted babysitter. I am a hairy monster. Liquids frequently spill out around my mouth when I try to drink them. My wingspan is longer than my height. I feel completely content with sitting on my butt and surfing the web during my child's naps. I eat more than my husband. I have never completed anything to the best of my ability...

These are a just a few of the embarrassing truths I often admit to the people around me. I know divulging this personal information may damage my reputation a bit, but I can't help myself. My girlfriend calls me a chronic "oversharer."

I have thought about why I do this and have come up with a few answers. My first, and easiest to explain, is that I tell people about all my frailties early so they don't find out about them for themselves later on. I know, weird. I guess it's my way of controlling the situation. Like if I invite people over for dinner and I add a little, "Well, I'm not the best cook," in the pre-dinner conversation somewhere, then my guests' expectations will be low and they won't feel terribly awful later on when they spit the food out in their napkins as I turn my back. If I warn a camping partner that I tend to unconsciously blow my bad breath in the faces of those sleeping around me, then they are pleasantly surprised in the morning if I didn't wake them up with my stink-blow (that's what Ryan calls it) during the night.

My second reason for constantly spilling my guts is that, for me, there is something so therapeutic about letting people know me inside and out. It's almost like an emotional release. I wasn't always so honest and (to be honest) I have spent most of my life trying to make myself appear perfect. Don't get me wrong, I still frantically clean before people come over to my apartment; I just don't expect those guests to believe that my house is always like that. I still read Martha Stewart in hopes that I will rise up in domestic perfection one day; I just want you all to know that no craft I have ever completed has turned out like I thought it would.

I probably overdo it on the full disclosure thing, but you all know me better now because of it.
I finally realized that I can admit that I cry about everything or that I only make my bed 50 percent of the time, and people will still like me despite these things. And I like myself now, too.

Quantum Declaration

Daniel Craig is officially the hottest ugly person alive.
Junior Mints Minis are officially my new favorite movie snack. Regular Junior Mints used to hold the top spot.
I will now officially go by "M."

Hate and leggings

My mom always told the child version of me that I shouldn't ever hate anyone.

"You don't hate her, you just dislike what she is doing," she said one time after I screamed those three lovely words at my sister. That made me angry at the time but if you really think about it, her little lecture makes perfect sense.

So I try to apply this to my everyday life. I don't hate DMV employees; I just dislike when they make me cry. I don't hate cab drivers; I just dislike it when I almost crash into the back of them after they stop. Completely. On the freeway.

I believe there is at least a tiny bit of good in everyone, even if you will never actually behold it. So you shouldn't hate them.

And so it is with clothes, I decided last night. I thought I hated Crocs until I had a child. The truth is, those holy shoes made of mystery material are just perfect for a toddler running around on a hot summer day. Now my kid doesn't own a pair of traditional Crocs and I throw up in my mouth a little bit every time I see an adult wearing them, but I have recently found hidden value in Crocs.

This brings me to leggings. Leggings and me got off to a bad start. When they first came out all I saw were little tweens with mid-calf black spandex under denim mini-skirts. I decided that leggings were a serious fashion blunder and hoped they would soon disappear off the skinny legs of adolescents. But they didn't. And they started showing up on mommies who realized they could now wear short dresses and skirts if they just put leggings underneath them. A few of them sort of pulled it off.

But the other day I saw a cute girl who had some leggings with substance on. They had a chunkier knit, more like stretchy pants and less like cropped tights. She paired them with slouchy boots and a tunic sweater. I saw her and saw the good in leggings. I became a tardy fan of leggings ... I think. Your thoughts on leggings?

Pictured above: Marc Jacobs boots, Forever21 leggings and Target sweater dress

whimsical

Love this print by Linn Olofsdotter.

lovesome

Swooning for these and other dresses by liza rietz.
Pretty awesome photos too.

Starting to dream in purple

I am having the hardest time finding some sassy ;) red pumps. I've seen some cute cheap ones and some fabulous, but very pricey ones. But I can't seem to find any that I absolutely love and can afford. I'm beginning to suspect the culprit is actually the color purple, which has taken over not only all of fall's really hot shoes, but also my own wardrobe! I look inside the foxhole that I like to call my closet and all I see is that darned color - and that's not because of my violet-tinted contact lenses (gag).

I think I'm getting a little purpled out. Anyone else feel that way?

Free finds from friends

Unfortunately I don't have a "before" photo but...

... I was driving with my girlfriend one day when we saw this (but black) on the side of the road. She saw it first, of course, so she got to take it home. She recently moved :( and called me to say that she had no room for it :) and if I wanted it, it was all mine! I brought it home and painted it green. I told her I'd return it to her when she moves back and while I will be sad to see it go, I'd much rather have her back!Thanks Bec!

Quirk number one: I find comfort in strange things

A while ago my girlfriend tagged me to describe six of my quirks. Because I am so stinking long-winded ( guess that could be one of my quirks), I decided each quirk gets its own post. So I will begin today, with quirk number one: I find weird ways to calm the intense flavors or my emotions.

It all began with a rectangular pink eraser on which my mother drew a heart. "Take this to school with you and squeeze it when you start to miss me," she said when she first presented it to me. I went to my first day of second grade and stuck the eraser front and center in my desk. I knew I would need it, judging by my first grade experience.

It must have been a combination of both my love of my mom and my fear of quite possibly the scariest first grade teacher alive that brought tears to my eyes EVERY SINGLE DAY of my first grade school year. I don't think my teacher knew what to do with me when she sent me to the naughty chair in the corner of the room every time I started to cry. This, of course, only brought on more sobs. I imagine I just didn't know how to survive an entire school day without my mommy yet.

So, armed with the pink eraser, I was able to get through my second grade (despite being the only kid in the class to never pass off her number three times table). The only time I remember crying in school that year was when I peed my pants while sitting at my desk.

I have no idea what happened to that eraser, but I moved on to other forms of comfort. During intense situations (exams in school, expired deadlines at work) throughout the years I have caught myself wrapping my right hand over my clenched left hand, placing the insides of my right fingers over the spaces between my left fingers. Then I switch hands. Try it. My fingers mold together perfectly and the soft undersides of my hands warms the outsides of my fingers. Recently I have pondered why I do this and I have come to the conclusion that this soothes me in some strange way. It's almost like giving my hands this cozy break calms my distressed mind.

As a stay-at-home mom of one harmless kid, I feel less stress right now than I have ever felt in my life. I am happy a lot, but I often also feel exhausted, burnt out and emotionally and mentally drained. Let's just say that as the world watched in shock, I wasn't surprised at all that Britney Spears, mother of TWO harmless kids, buzzed her own hair off. I'm trying to grow my locks out so instead of resorting to that solution, I turn to graham crackers, whole milk and America's Funniest Home Videos at 5 p.m. every day. The treat reminds me of my days in kindergarten at Wellsville Elementary and the show makes me laugh so hard I start to cry. And though I miss her dearly, at least those tears are not for my mommy.

Let's follow up a bad Etsy post with a good Etsy post

I have been wanting to buy original paintings now for quite some time. I found The Mincing Mockingbird on Etsy and wish I had a couple hundred dollars to spend on one of these pieces of art. I like them because I am a fan of birds. But the thing I LOVE about them is the names this artist has given each painting. Here is a sample:

"Will You Please Put Down That US Magazine And Listen To Me"

"Questions Carefully Designed To Discover What Your Problem Is"

"A Financially Unstable Mess, But At the Liquor Store They Call Me Ma'am"

"Confronting The Incomprehensible As A Way To Stave Off Boredom"

Let's guess how many people have a donkey and an elephant image on their blog today

Today marked the first time I have ever voted in my life. I imagined it being an all-day extravaganza, what with an expected record voter turnout here in Arlington, Va. Rachel spent three hours doing it on Saturday - and she was voting early. And Ryan stood in a line wrapped around a middle school for two hours this morning.
I walked in and 45 minutes later I had a sticker on my chest proudly stating, "I voted in Arlington."

Your place to buy and sell all things hideous

Sure, we have all found some seriously amazing stuff on Etsy. There will be many blog posts to come regarding purchases from this online handmade heaven. But in my quests for homespun gifts, I often come across thumbnail photos of some pretty unsightly stuff. It takes sudden finger paralysis for me not to click on them and see them in all of their dreadful glory.

I would never attempt to sell anything on Etsy, most likely because my creations would probably turn out looking something like the following:

Someone broke into my grandma's house, stole something she made at enrichment night 30 years ago and is selling it for $25.Perfect for an evening out to the Tibetan Plateau.
Can someone tell me what a sofa patch is?
Speechless (or typeless)
Abominable fashion faux pas or abominable snowman?
In case you couldn't find this at the nearest Wet Seal.And finally, my favorite Etsy item: For only $55 you can transform your child from darling to seriously disturbing.