Kiss, kiss.

Sorry, kids, busy week! New job, birthday parties, pie baking, and roadtrips, oh my. I'm headed to DC to rally for sanity and/or fear, but I'll get the silliness back on track shortly!

animated gif maker


The themes were "pirates", "surprise!", "macaroni & cheese", and "happiness", as if it weren't completely obvious already.

Curiouser and curiouser.

I've picked up and put down Pictorial Webster's: A Visual Dictionary of Curiousities in book stores more times than I can remember, attempting to convince myself that I really didn't need it. It's a gorgeous book filled with old engravings from 19th century dictionaries, packed with bizarre animals and outdated machinery. Alexandra kindly put me out of my indecisive misery and presented me with a copy for my birthday. I've been poring over it since.

A room of one's own.

Continuing with the little house tour: my bedroom. It's tiny, so my piles of books and I are currently fighting for the right to inhabit it. They've presently managed to edge their way onto the foot of my bed, so I may be losing. As for the rest of it, here is a taste of the silliness.

All of the artwork is made by people I know!

My very own TARDIS,  courtesy of Josh. It's only a couple of inches tall, but I'm sure it's bigger on the inside.

Up, up, and away.

When my father was growing up, he was fascinated with helium balloons but rarely was handed one as a treat -- the large family prohibited  a vast balloon budget. On the positive side [for me at least], this meant that my dad made sure that I always had a balloon in hand if I desired one - magical! I've spent the morning listening to the soundtrack from "Up" [also courtesy of my father] and realizing that I need to incorporate more balloons into my life. I have some ideas:

I've lost a few of my sources, but I suspect that nearly everything was pulled from fudgeniotillfemthecherryblossomgirl, and laurentreece!

Speaking of Jeff, he happens to be one of my favorite amateur photographers around. Hand this boy a camera, and he'll make the most mundane situation look perfectly lovely and ridiculously dramatic. Some of my favorite shots by him are the ones that he snaps at live shows; he's so casual about the whole thing but comes away with gorgeous results. Someone take this boy on tour with them!

BLK JKS, William Fitzsimmons, My Brightest Diamond.

Duck day.

I spent yesterday taking advantage of the last gasps of summer weather before the arrival of the inevitable blizzard that I'm sure is headed our way. Despite the fact that my friend and I both have lovely cameras, we failed to remember to drag them along to any of the picturesque locations, including the museum campus at night. Less picturesque but still amazing: my first trip to the American Science & Surplus store, which might be my new favorite shop. Bunsen burners, black hole t-shirts, and dinosaur expectation charts! Ridiculous. Oh and thanks, Jeff's iphone, for the memories. When I am bundled in wool coats and fleece tights, I will look back on them and sigh.

I walk by this everyday on my street. The bike disuse is sad, but the flowers are awfully happy.


My first ever job was at a little river-side café in my hometown. It was the kind of place that lent itself to occasionally snobby visitors and some diehard regulars. It was the latter group that made things magical. There was one little old lady who quickly became one of my absolute favorites; she would wander in for snacks and a glass [or two] of wine, dressed impeccably, laughing heartily, and always vaguely sparkling with the kind of stories that indicated a life well-lived and yet far from over. She never did manage to learn my name, but she always called me "Minnie" in tribute, I suspect, to Minnie Driver's hair. When I ran into her at a shop later on, she gave me a hug and introduced me as such to all of her friends. Why am I telling you this? Oh, right. This dress has officially been dubbed my "Minnie" outfit. As in, the mouse. Regardless of the Minnie in question, I would like to think that the my favorite regular would approve.

Building character.

So I have this theory as to why I can't figure out what on earth to do with my life.  Here it is: I have a ridiculous tendency to latch onto particular fictional individuals and decide that I ought to emulate them in some fashion. This happens most frequently with television characters, as I invest hours into episodes, getting to know them. However, this becomes a little bit tricky when my tv genres vary so dramatically. A few of the characters I adore? West Wing's C.J. Cregg, Pushing Daisies' Charlotte Charles, Dr Who's Donna Noble, Mad Men's Joan Holloway, and a little bit of Blair Waldorf thrown in for the headbands, martinis, and schemes. So apparently I want to be a pie-baking socialite temp-secretary who runs the country and occasionally saves the universe while wearing vintage dresses. [I suspect that I'm actually headed more in a Lucille Bluth direction, but I'll avoid that if I can...] But anyway, you can see why I'm at a loss as to how to proceed.

For today, though, I'll put on a Chuck Charles outfit and just see what happens.


"I wonder how I can talk you out of ever making that face again."

A Vida Portuguesa

I wanted one new blog post in 2017, with the promise to myself to document my travels in the new year, before I completely forget the a...