Please Enjoy Responsibly

 

(sorry suzi, i had to)

In case you haven't noticed, it is finally summer in Utah.  I know this because all I want to eat is frozen yogurt and snow cones.  All the time.  Every day. 

(becky, myself, and traci [aka t-mac] at snoasis)

But tell me, have you ever been to Snoasis?  Snoasis has the very best of all snow cones ever made.  I promise.  In summers past, Traci and I would drive 30 minutes to Snoasis and sometimes wait in line another 30 just to enjoy the icy deliciousness.  With cream.  It was always worth it. 

When I met Kyle and he told me he also loved Snoasis I knew right away that I loved him and that together we would love snow cones for the rest of our lives.  True story.

So by now I pretty much consider myself a snow cone expert.

 

Kyle and I recently had the pleasure of enjoying beautiful but mediocre snow cones in Manti, Utah.  They were sweet, to be sure, but lacking so much that Snoasis has to offer.  We concluded that there are three key ingredients to the perfect snow cone:

1.  Good ice texture. 

I don't want to have to chew it, it should melt gently in my mouth.

2.  Syrup layered between gobs of ice. 

The layering here is key because really, how many times have you eaten the top off a snow cone only to find there is virtually no syrup remaining in the bottom half?  Very disappointing.

3.  Cream. 

Snoasis does it best and layers cream with syrups.  It is the shizzle.

Gold & Green

I know, I know, I've already had my time to plan our wedding.  But in my other life, I would've been a wedding planner.  And in that life, I would have planned this gold and green wedding:

I'm telling you, it would have been pretty freaking awesome.

Dear Monday

photo by me

It all started when I woke up this morning and it all went downhill from there.  Tell me, do you ever have days like that too?

By 9:00 AM I found myself lying flat on my back on the office floor at work like a crippled old lady.  Why?  Because my back went out.  Just like a crippled old lady.  But the world does seem so much more interesting when viewed from the floor up.

Unable to move well, I went to pick up a corner shelf I had decided to purchase from the classifieds.  It was much larger and heavier than I had though and wouldn't fit any which way inside our little red car.  So I thought I'd be extra independent and self-relient and hoist it on to the roof and tie it down with ropes.  It looked pretty good, if I do say so myself.  Kind of like a canoe or something perched on top of our little red car.

A block down the road and I realized I probably shouldn't drive on the freeway like this so I called my sister to bring her SUV to help me out.  While on the phone, at a stop light, I watched my $15 corner shelf slide off the back of the car and into the traffic behind me.  I may have slipped a curse word.  Maybe. 

While the shelf stayed mostly intact, it scratched a big scratch down the trunk of our little red car.

Mortified, horrified, and completely humiliated, I pulled my car over and ran to my shelf in the middle of the road, still in my skirt and crippled old lady back.  A kind stranger picked up my shelf and set it on the side of the road for me.  I then parked my car nearby and waited for my sister to rescue me.  I may have cried a little.  Maybe.

And then I took my sister to the wonder that is Yogurt Stop to make everything better.  There is little in life that cannot be made better with a tart frozen yogurt topped with juicy berries.

But probably I should not have even got out of bed today. 

Dear Monday,

You suck.

That is all.

A Complaint and Suggestion

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Having spent my share of time in public restrooms, I think I am rather qualified to have an opinion on the subject. Namely, what's with spending ten minutes in the stall, ladies?? I understand there are the occasional times when more than 30 seconds is probably quite necessary. But I am convinced that 95% of the restroom doddlers are just wasting my time. Anyone agree? Anyone? I mean seriously, does it really need to take that long? I am convinced that if we issued a per-stall time limit, the problem with longer-than-necessary lines at the women's restroom would be more than alleviated.  Maybe we could even institute a couple stalls reserved for the doddlers, and have the rest as a sort of "express-lane."  Good idea, no?  That said, busy gas stations seriously need to plan ahead and provide more than one or two mediocre stalls. Do they think it's a funny joke or something?

That is all I have to say about that.

Something Nice

I just got this print from K2 Imaging!

I'm not usually a fan of pink, but I think this peony might be changing my ways.  Gorgeous huh??  Now to find the perfect place to hang it...

I'd Rather Be Wearing...

Today I am in Boise hitting up some yard sales, wishing I was wearing this instead of Kyle's old basketball shorts and a grungy t-shirt:

A Public Service Announcement

(see how happy I am?!?!?) (I'm SO happy!!)

As of today, we have been married nine months and six days.  That makes us some kind of marriage experts, don't you think?  After all, nine months is a very long time in a narrow-minded world that revolves around me.  (Don't worry, I still suffer from youngest-child syndrome)  And since I know you are all wondering, "How do they stay so happy?"  "How do they keep things fresh?"  I give to you, the secret to our happy marriage:

1.  Let me sleep.  A lot. 

When sleep-deprived, I often become delirious and mutter incoherent grumblings under my breath.  Or I mistakenly think I am superbly hilarious and will make jokes all the night long.  Or I might even become bitterly angry for no good reason.  Or I may find something terribly ridiculous to cry about.  There's no predicting just which of these scenarios may take place so it is better to be safe and let me sleep.  A lot.

2.  Feed me. 

When hungry, I lose all ability to make rational decisions or focus on anything at all.  And I may lash out at anyone holding a chocolate bar.  I am not a good hungry person.

3.  Surround me with babies. 

But don't babies make everything happy?  As long as they are not crying.  Or peeing my leg.  (Don't worry Suzi, I still love Cody)

This is a very simple, three-step formula that is proven to bring peace and joy around the world. (You know, the one that revolves around me)  

Ain't Room Enough for the Both of Us

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It was stiflin' hot when I showed up at the weekly youth activity prepared to teach a dozen young girls to sew pioneer bonnets.  I entered the room to find another sewer, many years my senior, brandishing a half dozen sewing machines and some serious sewing pride.  I sensed right away there was goin' to be trouble.

She seemed a little taken back that I was there, with my 2002 Viking and well-equipped sewing tackle box and seemingly tried to establish some kind of territorial boundaries.  The tension was thick and within a minute and a half she had thrown at me a list of her sewing credentials including sewing two of her daughters' wedding gowns by phone!  Across the country! And they fit perfectly!

What did I lash back at her?  Nothin' other than my killer charm, a really awesome seam-ripper, and a bachelor's degree proving four years of serious sewing studies. 

She tried again later to establish dominant sewing skills in the form of rudimentary lessons in pattern literature.  I whipped back with a thread-by-thread definition of woven fabrics.  The crowd oooed and ahhed at my expert terminology.

At the end of the night, I successfully aided in the construction of seven handmade pioneer bonnets.  Let it be known that I totally owned that makeshift sewing room... if I do say so myself.

Not For the Faint of Heart

A couple times a year Kyle candles his ears to... you know... clean house.  I decided I wanted in on the action and tried it for myself.  It was quite the experience, but I think I liked it most because of the huge flame coming from my head.  I'm kind of a pyro.  I can't say it made a huge difference, but I like to think that it did. 

Being the boy that he is, Kyle wanted to compare what came out of my ears to what came from his.  I've considered posting the results photo of this "competition" BUT because I like you so much, I decided not to.  Honestly, I gag just to think about it. 

Have I made you gag already? 

Have you ever candled your ears?

So I Have a Pretty Face?

photo by k2 imaging

So a couple weeks ago I was leisurely driving myself to the bus stop one morning and got a speeding ticket.  But it wasn't my fault, I promise!  It should be illegal for 1500 North to be 25 mph and whoever it is that posted those illegal 25 mph signs is to blame for my speeding ticket.  I told the officer guy that I had just moved here and have a rare vision disorder that causes me to not see black and white road signs.  Ok not really.  But do you think he would've believed me?

I decided not to tell the Kyle until I found out how much the ticket would actually be for... and you know, to wait for one of his really good days to spring it on him so he was too wrapped up in loving me to be mad about the ticket.  My plan was executed perfectly. 

And then he sends me an email:

Kyle: So good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?

Kourtney: bad

Kyle: You got a speeding ticket.

Kourtney: Ha! (I mean really, tell me something I don't already know)

Kyle: You are so lucky you have a pretty face. 2 speeding tickets in the first 9 months we have been married. At this rate when we hit our 50th wedding anniversary you will have received 66.6 speeding tickets. Not a good thing.

And where exactly is the good news, I wonder? 

Operation Compromise

Something of a miracle has happened.

Kyle and I agreed on something.

Something in the house.

That something being the future of our bedroom.

Which something involves a lot of painting

And white.

And gray.

The plan of which I devised via Polyvore.

And now, behold The Plan (insert dramatic music):

1. Palette colors by Benjamin Moore: Hawthorne Yellow, Wish, Silver Fox, and Whirlpool.  I'd like to paint the walls Wish and the bedroom furniture white.  The yellow accents come in from the duvet cover, pillows, and accessories.  The drapes are technically brown, but I think they are a similar look to Silver Fox.  I'd also like to incorporate some light blues/aquas for a little beachy feel.

2.  Gold Circles Mirror from Pier One

3.  Vintage Beach Poster from Zazzle.com

4.  12x12 Glossary by Basic Grey from A Cherry On Top

5.  Sand Ruffles Pillow from Pier 1-$30

6.   Yellow Roses Pillow from Pier 1-$40

7.  Bohemian Medallion Duvet Cover Urban Outfitters

8.  Chelsea Dresser  from pbteen (except I'll just paint our dresser white, it'll look similar in the end)

9.  Frame from Zara Home-$30

10.   Set of 5 Yellow Chinese Lotus Stems from Z Gallerie-$55 (I love these!)

11.  MERETE  curtains in brown from IKEA-$20

This means I get to paint our bedroom furniture white!

And our walls something other than green!

And Kyle is going to like it!

(But I do love to make the husband happy)

It feels so good to have a plan, don't you think?

Too bad we're busy every day for the rest of our lives so we have no time to put this plan into action.  But one day... one day it will be done.  It will probably begin with me taking something apart and creating a total disaster and then spending a few spare minutes here and there to put it back together over the course of many weeks.  Because that's just how I do things.  You know, some call it the hard way, but whatever.

Of Bicycles and Babies

photo by me

I recently reclaimed my ten year-old bike from my sister's garage and took it on a joy ride in the country.  But doesn't that sound fantastic?  And let me tell you, it was totally fantastic.

Anyone who knew me as a child-slash-preteen knows that I was slightly obsessed with horses.  Seriously obsessed.  Like unto insanity obsessed.  And then I discovered boys and Leonardo DiCaprio and suddenly horses seemed very much less interesting.  (But really, how could they compete with Leo?)

photo by k2 imaging

But I still have this love for horses.  Almost as much as I love babies.  As in, every time we drive by horse pastures I exclaim to Kyle, "Oh look at the horses!" or "Oh I love horses!"  And every time I see a baby I shout, "Oh look at the baby!" or "Oh I love babies!" and make him oooogle at the cute little baby with me.

So on my joy ride in the country I happened upon a trail-side pasture full of horses!  And I fell in love with an old gray mare who ate weeds from my hand and sniffed my hair.  We made eyes at each other in the distance and I knew we had a real connection. 

This brings me to a totally unrelated topic: the word cute.

Are you a female who finds herself overrusing the word "cute?"  Do you get ridiculed by your husband because seemingly everything must be cute?  Do you want to punch his cute little face in for teasing you?  (No not really, cuteness does not breed violence)  Okay but really, I know "cute" is overused.  A lot.  But so is "dude."  And "man."  And rude gurgly bodily noises.  But you don't see me making a big deal about it, do you?  No.  I rest my case.

A Father's Day Tribute

I know, I know, Father's Day was yesterday and everyone in blogland has already posted about their awesome dads.

But you see here?  This is my dad.  The hunky one in the thick glasses.  If you do not know him, you are really missing out because he's like a celebrity.  Seriously.  Celebrity-status as in my friends would come over to hang out with me and they would stay to talk to my dad.  Seriously.

 My dad is famous for his silly jokes that are so lame and obvious that you can't help but laugh.

For his killer omlette-making skills.

And his baked chicken with the crispy salty skin that we would all fight over.

And his deep, boming voice that everyone says should be in radio.

For his ability to play Give Said the Little Stream on the piano.  By memory.  At a moment's notice.

And also for mini performances of Little Red Riding Hood on his old Mexican guitar.

For that one time he tried to go on a date with my mom while wearing brown slacks and a yellow shirt.

Or that other time that he broke his nose on a knee-board.

 My dad is famous for his stories.

Like the one about how he hit himself in the forehead with a hammer and knocked himself out

(a personal favorite).

Or how he burned down an outhouse.

And a barn.

And a sack full of family photos.

And drove his uncle's car into a fire hydrant because he was checkin' out a girl in a miniskirt.

(come on people, it was the 60's).

This is my dad. 

The "lucky" father of four crazy girls. 

The one who let us braid his hair and paint his toenails and play dress-up in his clothes. 

The one who is supremely excited about whatever it is that you are excited about. 

The one who helps you dream up your dreamiest dreams. 

The one who always believes in you, no matter what. 

I love this dad.

A Quarter-life Crisis of Sorts

vintage me, center front

Hello world, I am twenty-five and three-quarters years old and I remember when stamps were twenty-five cents.  Leo was a dream boat.  The Internet was a new thing.  Walkmans were super cool.  Cordless phones were a luxury.  And candy from the vending machine definitely did not cost a whole freakin' dollar.

In fact, I remember a month ago when candy from the vending machine was a mere ninety cents.  What is with the new price hike?  Does this have something to do with the oil spill?  Because if it does, maybe I should rethink eating candy from the vending machine altogether...

Because seriously people, we're talking about peanut M&M's here!  The cure to all my bad moods.  The Rhoda to my Mary.  The (relatively) caffeine-free mid-afternoon pick-me-up that I save my nickels for weeks to enjoy!  And now it's a whole dollar!  For some reason it is much more difficult for me to justify splurging empty calories at the cost of a whole dollar.  Ninety cents? No problem.  But I draw the line at a dollar.  I mean really, a girl has got to have some standards. 

And if you're wondering whether or not your seventy-five cents is well spent on a package of mini fudge stripe cookies I will tell you right now that it is not.  I'm sorry my friends, but nothing can replace the crunchy, not-too-sweet goodness of peanut M&M's.  Especially when they've been slightly chilling behind the plexi-glass window.  (Or is it perhaps real glass?) (How is one to know for sure?)

But is anything better than cold chocolate?  I submit that there is not.

End transmission.

Ugly-to-White Transformations

Have I mentioned I love white? 

Kyle still jokes about how I want to paint everything in our house white, but after a couple of ugly-to-white transformations, I think he's beginning to see the white.  Er, light. 

(okay okay that was totally a pun my dad would make) (I need some practice) (love you dad!)

Exhibit A: orangey coffee table from D.I. for $10

Now seen in "Ivory Lace" with a little antiquing.

With a little ORB on the handle.  Better, no? 

Exhibit B: a twenty-five cent garage sale something-or-other in a pukish shade of puke.

Now appearing (albeit a little blurry) in white!  Very much less pukish, no?

And so I rest my case: "almost" everything ugly looks better in white.  I say "almost" because I would prefer my skin to come in a shade of bronze, but my genetics say otherwise.  But you get the point.

Bringing Home Baby. Er, Speakers.

Kyle and I went down to the Best Buy to purchase his long-awaited surround sound speaker system thing. He was giddy. Giddy like unto a child.

Perhaps even giddier than he was the day he purchased his beloved BBQ grill. "It's like bringing home a baby from the hospital!" He declared. Is it really? Because I hope it is more exciting for me. You know, the day that we bring a baby home from the hospital. (But doesn't he look like he's pushing a baby stroller out of the Home Depot instead of a BBQ grill?)

While Kyle was buckling the speakers in the back seat of the Honda, I chatted it up with the mobile services people. We were planning to get new phones this weekend but I thought to myself, "We are here, they are here, let's do this thing." And so I somehow tricked Kyle into making quick decisions on a type of phone he needed and we left the Best Buy with adorably matching red and blue phones. (Kyle had to have the blue one, you know for Boise State. Not so much for BYU.)

Fast-forward a few hours and we are sitting in bed, each with our new phones, trying to figure out how to use them. I successfully posted a comment on facebook from my mobile device and went to sleep dreaming beautiful dreams. Kyle was not so sure about the need for Internet-accessing cellular phones, but as soon as he pulled up ESPN I knew he was hooked. He will likely not admit it to you, but I think he loves his new phone and it's ability to produce real-time game scores. Especially since we are currently without cable television.

But thanks to the wonderfully talented Jason (who wields some seriously awesome tools) we are no longer without surround sound.  Jason and Abby came all the way from tornado valley (aka North Ogden) to help Kyle set up his new surround sound (aka "newborn child").  Actually, Jason and Kyle did all the work while Abby and I discussed the finer things in life.  You know, like coconut shrimp and yard sale treasures.  And then we rearranged the family room.

And then over the next few days Kyle watched 10 minutes of all his favorite movies in surround sound.  Including the 2007 Fiesta Bowl in which Boise State kicked the hillbilly trash out of Oklahoma State.  (aka the third happiest day of Kyle's life) (number one being the day he married me and number two being the future birth dates of our children).  I have to admit, I am rather impressed at the house-shaking quality of sound we now achieve from five little speakers.  Anyone want to come over for a movie party?

So The NBA Finals Are On...

Being the wife of an avid sports enthusiast takes some getting used to.  For example, it has taken approximately nine months for me to get used to Kyle's yelling, nay screaming, at the TV during any given sports game.  The first few months were unnerving as I felt that shouting was in some way my fault, that I should try to console him, or that I should even listen at all.  I've since learned to just ignore him all together.  You know, just when the game is on, of course.

"Three flops in the first quarter!!!!  THREE!!  The same guy!!"

It's not so bad really.  In fact, it's actually pretty funny. 

"Even their coach has been saying all over the media how this guy does this and they still let him do it!"

I also kinda like it because, you see, Kyle is very passionate about the things he loves and so as much as he gets into sports, he is just as much into me.  Except he doesn't shout at me. 

You know what I mean?

"They don't freaking play basketball; they flop!!!"

All I have to say is thank goodness for commercial breaks; by the time the game comes back on he seems to forget what he was yelling about a few minutes earlier.

"How is that NOT a jump ball?!?"

Every now and then I realize he may actually be talking to me and I try my hardest to jump into whatever conversation he thought he was having with me.  I do learn things from time to time though.  You know, in between the exuberant cheers and shouting at the TV.  And when the game is over, he's back to directing all his love and passion to me.  You know, the lucky wife of an avid sports enthusiast.

"Hot Like Mexico"

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It is June Eleven and I'm taking a sick day.  You know, just your typical we-can't-do-anything-for-you virus.  Stupid virus.  But have you ever Googled images of viruses?  They are fearsome science-fiction-like creatures to be sure.  But don't you think?

 Houses are so much different when you are inside them all the day long when you usually just come home after five.  For instance, who is it that is constructing the very loud clatter outside?  And why must it rattle my tables?  And does the train really go by five times between nine and eleven in the morning every day?  Really?

And furthermore, why did no one warn us that the wind here is so very much ferocious??  Yes, ferocious.  As in, it blows like unto a hurricane on a near daily basis. 

Ferocious as in I discovered our garbage can lying all over my dahlia sprouts.  This was very puzzling unto me because the garbage can lives about fifty feet away, around two corners from where my dahlia sprouts happen to be.  I mean really, do you see what had to have happened here?  I'm telling you, this wind is serious stuff in these parts.

And while we're asking questions here, why is it that Cream of Wheat is not more filling?  I love the Cream of Wheat but one serving is like unto a snack for my great and spacious appetite.  I'm pretty sure it only makes me hungrier.  (Unfortunately this is not the appetite suppressing type of virus that I have) (Stupid virus).

Lastly, has anyone watched the Alejandro video from Lady Gaga?  I suggest you do not.  It is eight minutes and forty-three seconds of weirdness.  She is weird.  I will admit, I do like some of her music and it's so very catchy and a good beat to run to (you know, if I ever wanted to run or something) but I do think her videos are all sorts of bizarre and disturbing.  I have to give her a virtual high-five though for doing a video with no mascara.  I do think a girl like her should probably always wear mascara.  And does anyone even high-five anymore?  But maybe that is so 1995 or something.

There Once Was A Girl From Nantucket... Or Something Like That

I normally despise categorizing what I like into one "label" because in a way I feel like that would limit my ability to change my mind a thousand times an hour like I so often do.  But just the same, I took this quiz and the results declared me 75% Nantucket and 25% Cottage. 

And you know what?  I think they're right. 

When I look at pictures I don't think "oh I like this" or "oh I don't like this."  Instead, I have kind of an inner gut reaction and I feel that one is better than the other.  Do you suppose this makes me an emotional person rather than a logical one?

I think Kyle would say "Most definitely yes." 

He is smart like that.

So this is what Sproost has to say about Nantucket Style:

Nantucket Style

Oh how you love the beach! Who doesn't, right? And so your dream home is either perched in your favorite beach town, or you've brought that favorite beach town into your house.

Colors
And since your true inspiration is the sea, the colors and textures in your home are the same that you would find at your favorite beach: white, light beiges and grays of the sand and driftwood, a variety of blues for the ocean and sky, and greens and vibrant blues of the sea glass... but the key is white! Your space should feel light and airy and give off the mood one has when at the beach: laid back!

Space Planning
Your furniture is comfortable and the layout is cozy. The more it reminds you of actually sitting on the warm sand the better! And what do you do at the beach? Hang out with family and friends - and your home is just an extension of this play place.

And for my 25% worth of Cottage Chic Style:

Cottage Chic
Who says that cottages can't be modern and chic? Who says that they have to be floral and cheesy? Not you! You love old and new alike, and love to highlight them all to expose the uniqueness of each.

Colors
Your true inspiration (whether you know it or not) is the sea... the colors found at your favorite beach: white and light beige of the sand, a variety of blues for the ocean and sky, and greens and pale grays of the sea glass... but the key is white! Your space should feel light and airy and give off the mood one has when at the beach: laid back!

Space Planning
The furniture is comfortable and the layout is cozy. The more it encourages intimate gatherings the better! The color throughout is light and airy - and though you love to accessorize with fun colors (the sky's the limit with a white background), the main color seen and felt throughout the house is white or very light versions of colors so that they feel almost white.

 So pretty much I love the beach. 

I love blue. 

I love white. 

I love vintage. 

I love modern. 

I love comfortable. 

I love quizzes.

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And I would love a Nantucket cottage beach house, please.  After all my birthday is coming up in a few months, ya know.

Be Cool My Babies

I pretty much kill every plant I've ever tried to grow. 

Would one call that a black thumb?  I'm just not so very sure.  About a month ago I planted a bunch of dahlia tubers (tubers? really? so weird.).

 And now look at my babies!! 

This is just one of the dahlia plants, but they're all sprouting quite nicely.  My inner pessimist tells me to enjoy it while it lasts because they will all shrivel up and die soon.  You know, the black thumb and all.

Oh but then there's this. 

This here is a pot of dirt that has looked just like this since we moved in.  I just assumed that the previous owners had planted something in there and that one day it would begin to sprout magical goodness.  But I think I could be wrong.  I think there is nothing in there.  Just a pot of dirt. Or maybe they were just sucky gardeners.  Either way, it's a nice comparison to the lovely sprouts I have growing up (take that former owners of our house!).

p.s. extra points if you love Conan and even more extra points if you buy this for a baby in your life:

from here

A Totally Self-Serving Tuesday

At some point during our recent move I lost the charger for the battery to my camera and therefore had to use Kyle's camera to document my goings on.  But then he got tired of me misplacing using his camera and I was forced to seek alternative photo options.

But good news! I found my camera battery charger, (which was actually not lost at at all, I just was too lazy to look for it) and I used it to take self-gratifying photos of things I've been doing.  So here is where I gloat a little about the things that have made me ever so happy-slash-busy the last month or two. (Consider yourselves warned)

Um, I've been working on this little clutch for Anna The Great for a few weeks here and there and I finally finished it!  Glory!  How I do love those fabrics...

Anna The Great sent me the tutorial from here and was brave enough to let me whip it up for her!  It's the first handbag sort of thing I've ever made and I have to say, I kinda wanted to keep it for myself.  But I didn't, because I'm nice like that.

Behold the kitchen!  You know, the kitchen I painted "all by myself."  (But okay so Kyle helped me).  Quite honestly, it is a little more "baby blue" and a lot less "aqua" than I had wanted, but I'm getting over it. I rearranged some of our household accessories and now I pretty much love it.

I relocated this print from K2 Imaging to the kitchen.

And this one too.  I like the added red. 

Probably the best part about painting the kitchen blue is now Kyle is almost equally as excited as I am to paint our cabinets white!  And then there will need to be something done about those laminate countertops...

Have you been wondering lately about The Chair?  Well, here he is in all his reupholstered glory!  Not too shabby, if I must say so myself (and I really must).

Just a reminder, this is what he was before.  Ew.

And now! 

(Insert public applause and bow of gratitude)  (This is, after all, a totally self-serving Tuesday)

Ahh, and remember the lamp I won on ebay??  I finally found a shade for her at a garage sale (for one dollar!).  Now she lives by my bedside.  I love my milk glass lamp, really I do.  And that mirrored thing behind it?  That will soon be painted white.

I firmly believe that anything ugly or kind-of-ugly can become very much attractive when painted white.  But don't you think?