Stun This.

Mercury is in retrograde if you were born a Cancer. This is what my boss told me yesterday. And then the pieces crumbled a bit. Shit is out of whack up in my world. Including a computer that has become possessed by a crazy trackpad. I literally cannot even move my little Apple arrow by myself. The Ghost of Mercury Retrograde has taken over and is opening and closing apps faster than I can blink. A trip to the Genius Bar is upon us. 

The world feels weird today. End of the month and the beginning of a month I am dreading. Such is life. Grateful that I have a husband who can make me laugh. Grateful for the beating sun. Grateful for my heart, that still keeps humming along despite the ache.

Have a good weekend my beauties. Maybe there might just be a little surprise up in here Monday...stay tuned. 



Currently Coveting: Guatemalan Huipil.

I stumbled upon Colonial Arts Tastemaker Tag Sale on One Kings Lane the other day and stopped to peruse as he always has really lovely things and is one of my go-to's at the design center. Low and behold, a new obsession was formed. Such great global treasures I could barely keep myself from blowing my bank account (hey-I was very honest in this post, I am a diehard coveteur). But one thing in particular had me at hello. I've always been rather enchanted with the idea of framing clothing, must be vintage, ethnic or something structural and amazing. These Guatemalan Huipil's are perfection. I would love to use them in a little girl's room or they would be interesting in an entry or long hallway. Or perhaps right over my bed...

They aren't that pricey at between $115-$250, it's the framing that is crushing my hopes and dreams. Still, a little early birthday shopping might be in order (hint hint-Justin, I like). 


The Haves and The Have-Nots.

I am sometimes so torn. 


Buh Bye Google Reader.

Greetings my lovely readers. 
Just want to give you the heads up that Google Reader es going away as of July 1. So if you follow me that way, follow me this way instead: 

Muchas gracias amores. 


Saturday Stunner.


It's the weekend! We have a celebratory dinner to attend tonight and then not much on the jam tomorrow but lounging in the sun. I feel like throwing on shorts and soaking up rays. It has been so nice relaxing around here lately...

But looking at this pic I feel some longing. Life feels like it's about to take some twists and turns. Like things we have been pondering and contemplating for years are coming to fruition. Like the next phase of life is about to begin. It's scary and exciting at the same time (and no I, unfortunately, am not with bebe). I don't know where all of the cards are going to land but I do know that they are flipping around in the air right now and not neatly stacked on the table. 

It's gonna be amazing. Fingers crossed.


Currently Coveting: Big Blue.

I'm a white walls kinda lady. 

I've done the grey, I have a pretty big crush on this taupe. But that is as far as my neutral lovin painters hand will let me roll. Don't get me wrong, I love color on walls. Just not mine. Until. My heart was seized and I fell hard hard hard for...blue. Odd. So not my normal business. But taste changes and evolves and mine, I know, is ever changing. I want an office painted in this shiz so badly right now. With some gorgeous wood desk and lots of vintage touches. It's fun to play it as a neutral because, well, it kinda is. What color doesn't go with it? Nada. I am big into blue and black these days. My work wardrobe consists of a lot of mixing of these colors (I work for a very conservative company. All of that lovely neon that is exploding in Bloomingdales right now? I wish.). And I'd love to bring the mix into my house. 

I have thoroughly investigated all rooms as possibilities but it just won't work with what I've got going on right now. BUT. I've been tempted to paint my closet for years and, although I hesitate because I don't know how much longer we will be there, I might have just hit my limit on tolerance for my ugly renter-cream-tan-with-the-most-horrible-hint-of-orange closet. How much more fab my clothes would look in a shimmery blue closet. How much more pulled together would I feel in the morning? Like getting dressed in a jewel box. And surprising for a perfectionist like me, my closet is super unexciting. 

Only problem? I hate painting. And my husband swore to me up and down after our last painting sesh that he would no longer be participating in my shenanigans. Fuck. I don't know. I'm still tempted. Now that I'm a free woman I can imagine myself devoting a night or two to beautifying. 

Some inspiration to get me off my ass.

Elle Decor

 Jeanette Whitson

Thom Filicia

 Lilly Bunn

Miles Redd

And the colors I'm choosing between: 


Secrets of an Organizational Perfectionist.

I got home last night after a long day at work, followed by an intense work out (planks-do 'em, they work, trust) and rather than hop on the couch with Ponyboy I emptied my grocery bag, got to making a bomb BBQ chicken pizza and then set to work organizing my cupboards. It was dreamy. All of the glassware in matching sets, the salad forks with the other salad forks, the spices laid out nicely in their drawer, labels facing up. Closets came next. Tanks on one end, then short sleeves, followed by long sleeves. Sweaters folded just so. Cleaning supplies straightened. Toilet paper stacked neatly. Tea lights corralled and set in the perfect spot for reaching in and grabbing nightly. Mumford and Sons accompanied me for this spectacularly fun task and, let me tell you, when I finally sat down I felt such a deep sense of satisfaction I could hardly believe it.

Ha. I wish I could tell you this was a joke. It's not. I am a complete and total clean queen. Like, crazy. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I vacuum my house at least every other day (keep in mind that my 'house' is less than 800 square feet, so there's that...). Even when I was working 16 hour days, I'd set my alarm for 10 minutes earlier just so I could make sure the house was dusted and fresh. Because there really isn't anything worse than coming home to a dirty abode. I'm that person who can't sit down and relax until everything is in it's place. It's nice. I would so much rather be clean than dirty. But goddamn sometimes it'd be interesting to see what happened to my mental state if I left a shirt on the floor or a towel hung crookedly on the rack. 


However, I don't always enjoy cleaning and organizing. It just feels like something I have to do, a compulsion. And for those times (like at 6:30 on a Friday when I'm walking in the door after a long week and I can't even shed my blouse until I sweep under the bookcase (the dust bunnies. they have taken over under there. it's a battle i will never win.) I am eternally glad that I have my somewhat insane patterns and tools in place. So today I'll share with you my tricks of the trade. Confessional style.


Happy Birthday to My Love!

I don't know what I did to deserve him. But I sure thank my lucky stars every.single.day that this man was born. He is my saving grace. Surely the best thing that could ever happen in my life has already happened and I am forever indebted to whatever, whoever blessed me with this guy.

Happy Birthday babe!

Cake foreva.

We are heading to dinner tonight with friends and then out and about the rest of the weekend. I am aching to get my toes in some water so possibly a trip up to the Coppola pool for a dip and a marg. How fab does that sound?


Pack Me Up and Move Me In 1.8.

I have to say-I'm particularly enjoying my house at the moment. Perhaps it's the having nights off after so many manymanymanymany years of working them. There is just something so lovely about coming home to it after a day of work, lighting some candles and getting to work in the kitchen. It is so properly amazing. All of the things that have bothered me about the apartment don't bug me so much anymore. 

Or, at least they didn't. Until I saw this abode with it's dark floors and built-ins. And then I started obsessively thinking about how much better our furniture would look if it sat on dark wood floors. How much more rich it would be, saturated. Always had my heart set on an old Victorian, if you remember. This one would do just fine. A little different than what I usually dig into but gosh, it is pretty. Best is last-check out that bathroom. 


Currently Coveting: Tom Greene Brutalist.

What I wouldn't do for one of these bad boys. Double story entry with one of these loves dangling down over some dark wide plank floors? Sounds perfect to me. 

I wouldn't hate on a pair of sconces either, FYI.

I particularly love the contrast when they are used in a soft, rustic setting. Unexpected. Edgy but somehow earthy. Takes the seventies hippie vibe out juuuust a little. People always love to throw them in some lounge with shag carpeting but trust when I say that this beauty will completely change if you take it out of that setting. The bigger the better. 

1st Dibs has a nice selection if you're up for it. 


In It To Win It.

Well fuck. It's been ages around here. Thank you thank you thank you for letting me take that much needed break. It was a whirlwind the past few weeks and I decided to just let myself sink into it, deal with it and then go home and cook some dinner. Now I'm looking at a clean slate and I can say *with GLEE* that I am caught up on life. BOOM. That feels good. Now have sympathy as I settle back into blogging, and writing, because I am out of practice and it might take me a minute.

Saturday we packed up the car (not really, I just wanted to say that, all we packed up was coffee and my wallet) and headed north for some hiking and sunshine. Inevitably this time of year in San Francisco slowly crushes my hopes and dreams of a real, actual summer and I start dying to put on a pair of shorts and a tank top and not freeze or get fogged in. I start seeing all the photos of friends in New York and New Orleans and I realize that I have forgotten what summer feels like. Breaks my heart. Gosh, it is so weird to think there was a time in my life when summer nights meant that putting on a dress seemed like too much clothing. Oh, New Orleans, how much I miss your summers in hindsight and how much I hated them when I lived them. This song remains one of my nearest and dearest but I honestly can't even remember what that feels like. 

I've been having a lot of these weighty thoughts about only having just this one life. Lots of feelings of "We should absolutely find a way to spend three weeks in Europe because we only have this one life and I don't want to spend it working" or "What if I never choose to live in the South again even though that's where I was so destined to live just because it's not really convenient right now, I only have this one life" or "I better find a way to make all this work and be perfect at it because I have only one shot." You know, those kind of thoughts. I can say truthfully that I have never thought like this before. It's a little scary. I spent my twenties doing exactly what I wanted whenever I wanted. I travelled all the time, all over the world. I sold everything I owned *twice I think.* I had no problem spending what I made. All of it. I wanted to go to Africa? Bought a ticket. Felt like buying tickets to a show every weekend? Done. Always wanted to move to California? Got in the car and drove across the country. I definitely did not think about things like IRA's, babies, or buying a house. I truly lived my life exactly TO A TEE how I wanted in that moment. I kinda miss that.

Thoughts these days tend more along of the lines of practicality. I spend way more time pondering the big decisions, thinking about the dream vacations and getting ready for whatever may be coming next. Perhaps it's a product of getting older. Which is actually kind of ridiculous when you stop to think about it. The nearer we get to death, the end of this one life we have, the more cautious we become. The more thrifty, the less spontaneous. It makes no sense. The end nears and we all sit around shying away from living, squiring away our pennies, even though it becomes more and more apparent that you can't take any of this shiz with you when you go. 

Here it is though. All of those things you think about-moving to NYC someday, living on a tropical island and being barefoot for days, sand in your bed, spending a fall in Vermont drinking coffee, antique shopping and watching the leaves turn, building a cabin in the Pacific Northwest, having six kids and seeing them all come home for holidays in some big old grand white Southern house with twinkling evergreen wrapped around  the banisters, your grandkids running afoot-all of those things that fleet through your mind when you are day dreaming? Yes, those things. Those are the things that should be dictating your decisions, and most of them will probably never happen to you. Devastating. It makes me want to get up off of this sofa, walk out the door with my dog and my husband and start living this life instead of worrying about paying bills and getting to work on time and my career path and making the bed and brushing my hair. It makes me want to leave all of this stuff behind.  Because when you really think about the life that you want to live, NONE of these things are included. They are just the daily weights. And they add up to not a lot. Dreams loves. Gotta start making them happen.

Which leads to me my point. I'm making a bucket list. Because I really do think it needs to be a conscious effort here. Or all of these things are going to slip right through my fingers in between the 9-5's and the TV watching. First thing on the bucket list: sitting on a porch with a sweaty cocktail on a Southern summer night.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...