Absence has made you love me more

I can trace my internet absence directly back to the day I began streaming Netflix live (shakes fist in the direction of Netflix headquarters).

Two hundred episodes into 30 Rock, I began dreaming as Liz Lemon (she's such an anti-hero and yet everyone claims to relate to her...how does she DO that?)
A personal high point was the episode where her Mexican Sabor de Soledad chips caused a false-positive pregnancy test because they were flavored with bull semen.

Also a must: the jury duty and "night cheese" clips here (although a huge fan of night cheese, I had never thought to give a name to that particular activity...)





In other world news, I scored a fabulous (and dirt cheap) antique Italian bed on Craigslist (see this previous intriguing post about teen son room re-do). Yes, that's right. An antique Italian bed for a teenage boy. It looks like an Italian grandmother's deathbed, minus crucifix nailed into chipping plaster above headboard.

I won't tell him, but the kid looks a little like Liberace propped up on pillows and surrounded by his dogs. Don't worry, I'm going to paint a wall black and get him some Weezer posters...you know, man it up a bit. So Novogratz of me, don't you think?



And of course I've been both auctioneering and auctionee-ing. El Hombre de Ascot (from my racially-charged and controversial last auction report) made an appearance as a shadow of his former self. His ascot hung limply at his neck and his cheap romance novel hair was lifeless and more gray than I remembered. He didn't even try to bid against me in an effort to reinforce gender and cultural stereotyping. I guess his machismo has left the building. I recommend a bag of Sabor de Soledad.

And, possibly most interesting, is my transformation from cute hair person to Ringo Starr/Hasidic Jew in four short weeks. Short-haired people like me live in a dangerous world, walking a fine line between cute and absurd. Mere millimeters of hair away from ugly every day. Pray for us. For despite our heroic appearance, we suffer from self-doubt and unattractive side-poufs constantly.



Here is a picture of me and Ringo at the park just the other day:



(I'm just kidding...and this picture is from a movie...no actual Hasidic Jews were harmed in the making of this dumb joke).

So it's your turn to embellish mundane activities for our entertainment. What have you been up to? Do tell!

Attention thrifty hipster Jazzercise leotard wearers

See the original "you're probably a hipster" post here!

I can't believe I'm sharing coupons like a dusty geezer.
But just in case your spandex Suzanne Somers-inspired Jazzercise gear is getting threadbare, click here to download a 50% off coupon for American Apparel.



I mean, who doesn't need to replace their buttless tights once in a while?

Happy Place...Kauai with Kids

Path to bliss (walkway to "our" house)

Backyard (river at edge of grass)

Well-stocked (screened lanai)

Happy place (Tunnels Beach)

Teen bliss

Fertile valley (farms outside Hanalei on the North Shore)

Return visits (Kauai grass-fed beef...we felt it was only right to support the environment)

Surfers (please don't die, please don't die, please don't die)

NaPali Coast from the trail

In the mouth of a giant-NaPali Coast

Teen Spirit

A grandson's view of his grandma

Verandaaaaaaaah

From bed

More happy place


This trip taught me the difference between "travel" and "vacation".
Rather than getting all verbose about the trip, if you have any questions about going to the North Shore of Kauai, just let me know!

Cutting out the lame stuff and only telling you the fun parts

so that you will think I had a better weekend than you. Actually, besides being woken up at 5 am for the huzband's surf session, there was no lameness.

Friday night was family dinner at the in-laws, which means tortillas, many kinds of stewed meats, and not being able to move without stepping on someone's baby. Also, an epic two-hour nighttime hide-and-seek game for the bigger cousins, which I was only slightly jealous not to be included in. Also, fruit tart in my belly.

Saturday I went nuts and started cleaning things out and throwing everything away. Next week, I will want it all back.
Then we took the furry fart-nuggets (and the dogs) for some exercise. Here are pictures of San Diego showing off, and Mr. Knightly getting gang-raped by big dogs. Also Jack running off into the sunset like the 'tard that he is.








Later we walked down to "the village" near our house (insert groans of "why can't we drive?" here) for an alfresco dinner. This was followed up by a round of semi-pro couch wrestling with the kidz, and once they were totally off-the-wall hyper, I left them with pops and went downstairs to quietly watch a movie in my room. Oops, I mean OUR room.

Sunday was more worky/cleany stuff, then a couple hours of learning how not to be a douchebag, followed by a French movie and wine with friends. Well-rounded it was.

Pair Dorothy Draper "ESPANA" chests

Fresh and hot, in the shop tonight. If you know what these are, then you'll understand why I am SO please to have them (even momentarily). Read a little more about Dorothy Draper here.
Thanks for looking!

Just Like Buddy Holly

I meant to just link you to a (yes, yet another) Rogue Wave tune, but then I found this super-endearing little video some kids made to go along with it.
It reminds me of how some day (soon) my little dudes are going to have that earnestly-in-love-for-the-first-time experience. Awwwww!
So if you don't love this song and the sweet, sincere video check yourself. You may have died and not noticed.




p.s. A restrained round of hipster applause if you caught the Weezer reference ;)

Change of Plans

I had planned on venting this morning.
People seem particularly mean-spirited and aggressive lately, and it hurts my soft, squishy little heart. So, while I got the laundry going, and while I bagged almonds for school lunches, and while I poured my coffee I didn't even see what I was doing. I was busy, see, mentally rehearsing the many ways in which people and life have been less-than-stellar. Just so I could accurately share the love (hate) with you.

And then something in me turned over at the thought of being that person.

And I thought instead of the blissful hour spent holding my chubby little niece while she mewed and sighed and nuzzled me in her sleep. And how my husband kept opening the office door and looking at me, which was at first so entirely annoying until he finally said I just like to look at you when it's quiet. Reminding me in quite an off-handed way of a favorite Pablo Neruda poem.



Even how my oatmeal and hot blueberries taste just a little bit like dessert.



And that November is back in a nice, moody little splash of rain and I have to watch the Painted Veil because it's way overdue and didn't I pay extra for it, so hadn't I better watch it?



And all the people who said nice things about my hair and made me feel kinda pretty (yes I did it!)




So I'm not going to be that person. I don't have any reason to be.

The heart chooses

It's the silly little things that make you appreciate the guy you're with.
I'm going in for a haircut, so last night I asked the huz what he thinks of this cut (right side).



I was maybe 45% joking. 55% of me (that's a majority vote, guys) really likes having something weird all up in there. But, you know, teacher conferences are coming up and all.

So he takes a good look and says yeah, that might look good on you.

Now mind you, we're not in our 20s anymore. We don't have tattoos. We have kids and dogs and a mortgage. It's been a few years since either of us could honestly lay claim to "being in a band". We take multi-vitamins and eat fiber.

And yet. The dude is willing to let me hang off his arm with a spiky red Tegan and Sara mullet. It's not flowers or champagne or sandy romantic gestures on the beach, but things like this that love is made of. At least in our house.

I might compromise with this:



While the mortgage-paying, fiber-eating lame-o momsy part of me is all, "Why not something nice like this?":




I hate that lady. She's SUCH a buzz kill.

If it's not too mangled, maybe I'll post a picture of the results.
Feel free to vote on your favorite.

Also, what's with girls having chicken wings instead of arms? Ick.

What's cookin' at Modernhaus?

Oh, I don't know. Little o' this



Little o'that

Vintage Vera Neumann bedding

Years ago in a kingdom far, far away I wrote about Vera scarves and how cool it would be to turn a heap of them into a patchwork quilt. Ahh, such innocent enthusiasm. I didn't know about this:







Vera already designed bedding! I've seen a few (sort of ugly) sheets and pillowcases by Vera on Ebay over the years, but I didn't like them nearly as much as I like her other designs.
But this? Knocks my socks off. You could put it on a plain white Malm bed from IKEA and have the raddest bedroom ever.

I don't typically sell non-furniture things, but I'm making an exception for this.
Available in the shop this eve.

In other yellow news (and there's A LOT of it), check back to see what becomes of this beaut.

Crapdang

is all I can say after watching this. In one of my frequent moments of dumbness, I sold my super 8 camera. And now I have to go buy another. Or my life will be incomplete.
Oh yeah, and also, BIG SUR FOREVER!! Deetjen's and Henry Miller and Nepenthe. Forget Africa...Big Sur is the cradle of civilization, I tell you.

James & Tiffany Super 8 from Shark Pig on Vimeo.

Thanks, you, for always knowing what the cool kids are doing

Showering with others...

I did a lot of that this past month. This one was for my lovely S.I.L., who just delivered her first daughter several days ago.

Gerberas

Pretty mommy

Birds and bees

The great-grandma

Lady-like centerpiece

Peach bellinis

Your biceps are bigger than mine

Centerpiece-photos of the parents with silly chidhood memories printed on the back

Guinness chocolate and vanilla creamcheese

And vanilla and lemon...I piped the frosting on and ordered handmade sugar paste flowers so they didn't look too "bake sale"

Liked the frosting

My grandma...she made me serve her champagne all afternoon!