11.18.2013
11.14.2013
doing it myself
You may have heard me whine before about the empty wall that dulled the senses upon entering my apartment. And you may recall my deep & abiding love of stripes, as documented in previous post(s). Since we are mere peasants i.e. renters, I'm always cautious about paint color choices. My walls are painted a shell-tone version of off white. While I don't hate it, I wouldn't say that I swooned upon first viewing. That wall was starving for an impactful decorating statement... That wall needed STRIPES!!!
I'm really digging mint green these days, maybe because it's a subliminal reminder of a much beloved ice cream flavor. Anyway here's to get your STRIPE ON in whatever color you please. Keep scrolling down if you want to see the super-fun and easy ancillary project I added on a whim!
1. Measure out your stripes. I wanted wider stripes, so I made them about 10 inches apart. Use a pencil to make your marks. I made a dash about every two feet.
2. Tape it out. You'll want to make sure that you tape below your dashes for the stripes that you're filling in, and tape above the stripes that you're leaving blank.
3. Put a piece of tape on the stripes that you're not painting (seems like it would be common sense, but once everything is taped, the stripes become a dizzying blur.
4. Paint! I used a semi-gloss. The original color has a matte finish, so I mixed the textures to provide more contrast.
5. Let it dry. No peeking, I said "LET IT DRY!"
6. Peel your tape off and admire. After it's dry.
Now for the fun part...
My original inspiration:
1. Gather your plates. I had a set of beautiful salad plates that I bought 4 years ago. I got the rest from a sale bin at Anthropologie and at a thrift store.
2. Get out your glue gun. Put a large (very large) dollop of glue where you want to put your hanger (paperclip, heck yeah, it's a paperclip!)
3. Put your paperclip in the puddle of glue.
4. Add reinforcement; I used ribbon but felt works well too (do this before the glue dries)
5. Map out your placement.
6. Then, it's hammer-time!
I'm really digging mint green these days, maybe because it's a subliminal reminder of a much beloved ice cream flavor. Anyway here's to get your STRIPE ON in whatever color you please. Keep scrolling down if you want to see the super-fun and easy ancillary project I added on a whim!
1. Measure out your stripes. I wanted wider stripes, so I made them about 10 inches apart. Use a pencil to make your marks. I made a dash about every two feet.
2. Tape it out. You'll want to make sure that you tape below your dashes for the stripes that you're filling in, and tape above the stripes that you're leaving blank.
3. Put a piece of tape on the stripes that you're not painting (seems like it would be common sense, but once everything is taped, the stripes become a dizzying blur.
4. Paint! I used a semi-gloss. The original color has a matte finish, so I mixed the textures to provide more contrast.
5. Let it dry. No peeking, I said "LET IT DRY!"
6. Peel your tape off and admire. After it's dry.
Now for the fun part...
My original inspiration:
1. Gather your plates. I had a set of beautiful salad plates that I bought 4 years ago. I got the rest from a sale bin at Anthropologie and at a thrift store.
2. Get out your glue gun. Put a large (very large) dollop of glue where you want to put your hanger (paperclip, heck yeah, it's a paperclip!)
3. Put your paperclip in the puddle of glue.
5. Map out your placement.
6. Then, it's hammer-time!
Ta-da!!
And there you have it! Stay tuned for more!!
10.16.2013
Yes I am single. But the worldwide web has decided I am single & black.
My admittedly limited understanding of the worldwide web includes a few conspiracy theories regarding data-mining & phishing. When I buy a pair of boots online I expect to be slammed with pop-ups & emails filled with capitalistic roadmaps of the "If you like boots, you'll LOVE our shoes!!!" ilk.
That said, I was surprised to receive this email yesterday.
While I am in fact single (easily determined by my failure to visit sites such as Buy Buy Baby and/or Weddings R Us); I am not black.
I hung out in L.A. last month with my friend Henry for a few days. Henry is black & a handsome fella to boot. I was with my friend Monica this past Saturday. Her mother is white but her father is black, so she's got beautiful café au lait skin. Have the public surveillance cameras become so eerily pervasive that this hang time with two people of color was reported back to Black Dating? Do the phishers assume that my current relationships with black people are lacking? Because I'm pretty sure Monica would take issue with that and she's got a temper. And Henry? Don't get me started.
While I appreciate the internet taking the time and trouble out of its busy schedule to concern itself with my love life, surely it must realize that they needn't email me offers such as this:
There is room for just one darling Asian chick in my life. That would be my niece, neighbor and blogging partner, Juney. Don't tell the internet, but she is actually Vietnamese. Once the worldwide web realizes her ethnicity I'm afraid I'll be inundated with two-for-one Pho coupons and "Free Spring Rolls With $20 Purchase" offers.
That said, I was surprised to receive this email yesterday.
While I am in fact single (easily determined by my failure to visit sites such as Buy Buy Baby and/or Weddings R Us); I am not black.
I hung out in L.A. last month with my friend Henry for a few days. Henry is black & a handsome fella to boot. I was with my friend Monica this past Saturday. Her mother is white but her father is black, so she's got beautiful café au lait skin. Have the public surveillance cameras become so eerily pervasive that this hang time with two people of color was reported back to Black Dating? Do the phishers assume that my current relationships with black people are lacking? Because I'm pretty sure Monica would take issue with that and she's got a temper. And Henry? Don't get me started.
While I appreciate the internet taking the time and trouble out of its busy schedule to concern itself with my love life, surely it must realize that they needn't email me offers such as this:
There is room for just one darling Asian chick in my life. That would be my niece, neighbor and blogging partner, Juney. Don't tell the internet, but she is actually Vietnamese. Once the worldwide web realizes her ethnicity I'm afraid I'll be inundated with two-for-one Pho coupons and "Free Spring Rolls With $20 Purchase" offers.
10.15.2013
inspiration to real life 2
Today I found some really kickass postcards at a boutique in my neighborhood (Foursided Chicago http://www.foursided.com. ) I wanted to display them in a unique way, so I thought about a gallery wall, but I already have a gallery wall in my living room. As my too-astute-for-his-own-good husband pointed out: we do not live in The Louvre. Excessive frame purchases were inexplicably trumped by food & rent. So, I hit the search engines on my fave, Pinterest (of course), and found an awesome way to "exhibit" my new objet d'arts!
my project
Pinterest find:
http://www.pinterest.com/pin/159244536797615419/
via Apartment Therapy
http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/8-parisian-apartments-that-ins-121869
via Simply Chic
my project
1. Find a frame. I luckily had one already.
2. Thumbtack some twine to the back of the frame. Tie a knot on both ends and use a hammer to secure the tacks in place.
3. Add your postcards. I just taped them onto the twine, but you can use paper clips, clothespins, binder clips to attach them.
4. Hang and admire!
10.11.2013
inspiration to real life.
As ya'll are well aware, I am ADDICTED to Pinterest. Because we are apartment dwellers I'm inclined to stick with projects that can easily be reverted back to their beige existence when/if we (inevitably) move again. Here are my inspiration pictures that I have turned into my real life projects.
Here are a couple that I am working on now.
Pinterest musing No. 1
Here are a couple that I am working on now.
Pinterest musing No. 1
striped wall, found on Pinterest:
via Chalk White Arrow
I lurve stripes. Fat ones, skinny ones, horizontal, vertical...it doesn't matter, I absolutely think it makes a room super cute and playful. Not to mention it's more appealing than
just a plain painted wall and incredibly easy to do!
(as long as my handy hub is around for measuring issues).
just a plain painted wall and incredibly easy to do!
(as long as my handy hub is around for measuring issues).
my version:
Pictured with my husband's photo bomb
I'll post the finished wall and a how-to soon! You know it's always a WIP (work in progrees) up in here....
Pinterest musing no. 2
painting details, found on Pinterest
via Mamie Boude
We have this awesome, modern, huge hunkalunk of a coffee table. Through the journeys of our of many moves, it has seen better days. I didn't want to re-paint the entire table, but I did want to hide some of the scuff mcgruffs. I saw the chair post above and eureka, my solution for my coffee table!
my version:
Louis Pasteur versus My Friend Bridget
This past Monday (10/7/13) I posted pictures of a Louis Pasteur Institute bookmark from 1923. Like Owen Wilson's character in the movie Midnight In Paris, I am obsessed with 1920's Paris. Also I am completely charmed by the worshipful Parisian adoration that surrounds Louis Pasteur for saving the world from crazy old-timey illnesses associated with diseased milk. Salmonella, listeria, e-coli...good times.
I love Pasteur's quote on the back, "Sans Labatoires Les Savants Sont Des Soldats Sans Armes"; scientists without a laboratory are like soldiers without weapons... I am wildly enamored of the front, with a little Clara Bow look-a-like holding what looks to be a graduation cap.
But has a 1923 souvenir bookmark bamboozled me into thinking pasteurization is a must?
These days (at least within the incredibly enlightened circle of gypsies, tramps & thieves I call my friends) everybody is an expert on raw dairy, organic everything and gluten-free whatnot. Like every schmo, I live in fear of our jacked-up food chain. I don't want to consume milk from a miserable beast of burden whose daily intake consists of a banquet of hormoned-up antibiotic-laden frankenfood grain brought to you by Monsanto. You don't have to be a PETA member to agree that dairy cows aren't exactly living the dream, what with their reduced real estate rights and inflamed udders.
And yet who wants to go back to Dickensian times wherein a lack of pasteurization seemed tantamount to death? You know those kids were working in coal mines most likely without milk & Oreo breaks, but maybe they had a little diseased milk with their measly porridge portions. I don't know what listeria is, but I picture tons of seven year-olds, with little coal-smudged faces, bloated & blue, being loaded into carts & hauled to a Potter's Field for a poor man's burial. No more porridge for you little 'Enry (you really should drop the "h" for cockney imitations). But maybe that's okay, because you know--no more black lung either. No doubt, life was rough for those shorties. Dairy cows today are living on easy street in comparison.
But I digress. My point is that last month I visited one of my all-time fave friends, Bridget Paley. Here's a picture of her milking her community cow.
You heard me right. Bridget has a share in a cow at a fantastic agrarian organization: Amy's Farm in Ontario, California. And she's not afraid to use it. I (of course) WAS afraid. I fed the cow while Bridget milked her and there were a couple of moments when I wished I had circled in a helicopter ala Marlon Perkins in Wild Kingdom. But we didn't have a helicopter, unless you count the horseflies. Some of whom seemed large enough to carry me away.
Bridget uses her weekly yield (approximately four quarts) to make cheese. When I make cheese the recipe consists of a grocery store & my ATM card, so I think of Bridget as someone who possesses traits of both Moses and Martha Stewart. A person who is able to work miracles, then feed you afterward on a nicely set table.
My friend Bridget is simply one of the coolest people I know, as witnessed by her t-shirt ("Natives Discovered Christopher Columbus" in case you can't read it). And if raw milk is good enough for her (and her little dog Corgi too, he was lapping it up!) by God I guess it's good enough for me.
But to be brutally honest, the bottom line is that I don't drink milk. It makes me gassy.
More to come about Amy's Farm. Keeping it real in a major way, here's their number if you live around Ontario, CA. http://www.amysfarm.com or (909) 393-2936. This business is truly on the ground floor in terms of sustainable living, REAL food and best practices for the humane treatment of animals.
I love Pasteur's quote on the back, "Sans Labatoires Les Savants Sont Des Soldats Sans Armes"; scientists without a laboratory are like soldiers without weapons... I am wildly enamored of the front, with a little Clara Bow look-a-like holding what looks to be a graduation cap.
These days (at least within the incredibly enlightened circle of gypsies, tramps & thieves I call my friends) everybody is an expert on raw dairy, organic everything and gluten-free whatnot. Like every schmo, I live in fear of our jacked-up food chain. I don't want to consume milk from a miserable beast of burden whose daily intake consists of a banquet of hormoned-up antibiotic-laden frankenfood grain brought to you by Monsanto. You don't have to be a PETA member to agree that dairy cows aren't exactly living the dream, what with their reduced real estate rights and inflamed udders.
And yet who wants to go back to Dickensian times wherein a lack of pasteurization seemed tantamount to death? You know those kids were working in coal mines most likely without milk & Oreo breaks, but maybe they had a little diseased milk with their measly porridge portions. I don't know what listeria is, but I picture tons of seven year-olds, with little coal-smudged faces, bloated & blue, being loaded into carts & hauled to a Potter's Field for a poor man's burial. No more porridge for you little 'Enry (you really should drop the "h" for cockney imitations). But maybe that's okay, because you know--no more black lung either. No doubt, life was rough for those shorties. Dairy cows today are living on easy street in comparison.
But I digress. My point is that last month I visited one of my all-time fave friends, Bridget Paley. Here's a picture of her milking her community cow.
 |
| She is the real deal. |
 |
| The cow made it clear to me that I was not the boss of her. |
Bridget uses her weekly yield (approximately four quarts) to make cheese. When I make cheese the recipe consists of a grocery store & my ATM card, so I think of Bridget as someone who possesses traits of both Moses and Martha Stewart. A person who is able to work miracles, then feed you afterward on a nicely set table.
My friend Bridget is simply one of the coolest people I know, as witnessed by her t-shirt ("Natives Discovered Christopher Columbus" in case you can't read it). And if raw milk is good enough for her (and her little dog Corgi too, he was lapping it up!) by God I guess it's good enough for me.
But to be brutally honest, the bottom line is that I don't drink milk. It makes me gassy.
More to come about Amy's Farm. Keeping it real in a major way, here's their number if you live around Ontario, CA. http://www.amysfarm.com or (909) 393-2936. This business is truly on the ground floor in terms of sustainable living, REAL food and best practices for the humane treatment of animals.
10.07.2013
Why Monday October 7th 2013 is a day that will live in infamy.
Maybe infamy is too strong a word, but this is our blog launch date and as a Luddite I'm pretty excited. It was an incredibly beautiful day by any standards, let alone Chicago. And I was able to hang out with my Loveyheart niece Juney (autocorrect wants me to call her Junky but she's not so I won't!)
Here are a few random observations made along Elston Avenue in Chicago today. Please note that I think of this as the equivalent of a "soft opening" for a new restaurant. So my apologies in advance if the courses are not quite to your liking. Here we go:
Here are a few random observations made along Elston Avenue in Chicago today. Please note that I think of this as the equivalent of a "soft opening" for a new restaurant. So my apologies in advance if the courses are not quite to your liking. Here we go:
1. HomeGoods' shoppers are unfamiliar with the concept of personal space. This is a 1st World Problem, I am well aware.
2. Chipotle's employees are overly familiar with the corporate approach of shaming a customer who has the temerity to ask for slightly larger portions. This is my only meal for today Chipotle. Feel free to throw in eight more beans.
3. Target was practically hosting a rave party at register 16 today. Jorge had us do a survey for a $1500 gift card. We will not win and we know it. The only winner in this scenario is Jorge for signing up the highest number of survey participants. Kudos to Sherese our cashier for understanding that although I bought 10 birthday cards, none of the DVDs I purchased are gifts, thus I did not need a gift receipt. These birthday card recipients will be lucky if I even invite them over to watch any of my new DVDs. Thank you Sherese for not shaming me the way the Chipotle kids did when I wanted sour cream AND cheese.
4. Driving with a back seat full of brooms, throw pillows, slickly wrapped DVDs and birthday cards plus other unwieldy items too numerous to mention is a dangerous endeavor. Particularly when you are texting and eating Chipotle.
In other news, I am obsessed with this darling little bookmark from Paris. Details to follow tomorrow if I am not too much of a dumbass to figure out how to get back on my own blog without technical assistance from my niece who not only blogs, but is also the I.T. department for What In The World?!?
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