It’s A Nice Day For A …Trip To The Fabric Store?

It’s a typical San Diego Sunday: mid-70’s, light breeze, strains of music floating through the neighborhood. The curtains are all drawn back and the house is getting a nice airing out. There’s been a light winter cleaning – sorted out a drawer of canned goods, cleaned off the random debris on top of the fridge (so THAT’S where my hummingbird feeder nectar went to!), and started laundry. I’m taking a little break to write before heading out to the dollar store for hairspray, which will hopefully aid me in my attempt to do a fauxhawk.

My hair is a bit long, but I’m hoping to achieve something like this:

Also, I found THE BEST volume hair tip ever (for real). Go check out the video, and watch the whole thing. I’m sure it helps if you have a flat iron, but my house is very product-and-accessory free, so … yeah. Dollar store it is.

So, the fabric store.

My wonderful lovely creative fabulous friend Morgan is getting MAWWIED in September, oh-em-gee, and she’s been sweet enough to send an invite to Casa de Awesome. (Yes, that’s my house’s name.) It’ll be in Seattle, a place I’ve always wanted to go – ceremony at an old gas works and reception at a yat club. Some people say yacht, some say yat, and that’s what we’re calling it right now. 😉

Look how cute their wedding site is! Matt & LindsayMorgan

Since the two of us here have been getting more involved and interested in steampunk lately, it seemed like the perfect occasion to acquire some apparel in that genre. So began The Great Outfit Search.

First of all, the stuff is not cheap. It’s not cheap because it’s all custom made, and generally of good quality. As are most discussions (surprisingly and thankfully) – most fans of the genre tend to be well spoken and well read. It’s a nice change if you want to give your brain a break from YouTube or ICanHasCheezburger comments.

The thing about it is that a lot of people do tend to just “glue some gears on it and call it SteamPunk”, myself being one of them. Yes, some people say if the gears/buckles/bells and whistles aren’t functional then it’s all for naught, but you can’t deny the aesthetic appeal.

Here’s an example.

Plain Black Arm Cuff

Steampunk Arm Cuff:

See? Just glue some gears on it. And if anybody wants to track down the manufacturer of that second cuff and then PURCHASE the cuff for me I’d be much obliged. I bet you dollars to donuts (best phrase ever) that it’s at least a hundred bucks if it’s hand-tooled or anything.

We got to talking here at The Casa, and J feels that he’s capable of sewing things. Maybe even clothes. After picking both my eyebrows off the ceiling, we talked about local fabric stores and how I want to make my own mini cocktail top hat instead of paying $150 for the one that caught my eye. So after breakfast, he crutched on over to the local Discount Fabric Store where we looked at all the awesome items. I spent most of last night looking for a hat pattern/tutorial, and he spent most of yesterday looking for a vest pattern. It was fun.

Anyway, we have the beginnings of a sewing kit, and an old holiday popcorn gallon tin is where the excess fabric will go for now. I think we can pull something off.

I’m not sure who this new crafty person is that’s living with me, but I like him.


Another Day, Another Garden

Thanks to an actual visit to a doctor and then Urgent Care, the medicated cocktail they have me on is making me feel NORMAL. It’s hot in the house and my body is functioning like a normal person’s! I’m upright! I can do things! ALL THE THINGS!!!

Okay, maybe not *all* the things, but enough things to make me happy. For example, something easy to do (and relaxing): make my first succulent potted garden. They are sans deco-rocks right now because I don’t feel like going to buy much of anything, let alone making a trip to everyone’s favorite Home Improvement Store, but I’ll do that this weekend. It also makes me think… these are fairly inexpensive to make, and can end up being really pretty and alien-life-form-esque. So… would people buy them? I don’t see why not. People will buy anything. If they don’t buy them, they’ll just sit around making my house look pretty. 🙂


My wedding centerpieces were A) super cheap and B) something I crafted up on my own. The plants were under $2/each, the glass cubes were either $1.50 or $3 at a local wholesale shop, the sand was FREE (filled up the cubes myself at a nearby beach), and the books were roughly two bucks each.

That’s right. I went to Home Depot and snagged plants that (after the event) could be planted at my house. Which they are. Eight of the twelve have survived – four of the twelve died because animals dug them up. So the other day, when we got ceiling fans, the antique glass light cover domes ended up sitting around the house, not doing anything in particular. Definitely not covering the bare light bulbs as they had done for who knows how many years (in this 1930’s house).

Then my own mental light bulb clicked on: they were perfect to repurpose into rescue bowls – finally, the remaining succulents would have a fairly safe home. AWESOME. 🙂 The Rescue Bowls are now chillin’ on the patio table with the other item I used as a display table piece, another succulent collection that is doing well. 🙂

So here’s what I did.

This little guy I saved from Wanda's corsage - yay, he's still alive, and doing better!

But: would you buy a succulent garden? Low maintenance. Low water. Basically just make sure it’s got a decent drainage hole in the pot and you can’t really kill them.

I also just remembered my other blog, “Domesticity” (, which was going to be my main blog about home-owning and the adventures that come with it. Then I decided that it’s just easier to write about everything over here. My yoga, my fitness, my recipes, my rants, my home-provements, my stuff. Once nice neat little package.

So there you are. Have a lovely day. 🙂

Lace Butterflies

Maybe this is something every bride goes through, or maybe it’s more apparent to me because of the industry my employment as in, but I feel like……… I could write a book about weddings. How to plan one, have a fairly successful one, how to just tell yourself it’s okay to throw your hands up in the air and say “SCREW IT, whatever happens will happen.”

My wedding isn’t until next weekend, but it will be fine. You know why?

Because my spreadsheets told me so.

I’ve got this crazy feeling in my stomach. Butterflies. It’s probably excitement, also some anxiety, but I don’t want to call it nervousness. Here’s why I should not be nervous.

We’ve got a place to have the party, people will (probably) show up, food, drinks, music, and awesome outfits. You know what we can’t control? Everything in between. We can’t control the weather, flat tires, a weird random song during the dance-dance time, or all the to-the-minute little stuff.
I can figure out about how long it takes me to get my hair and makeup done, and the commute to the venue from the salon, but I can’t figure out if nine hundred people will want to go to the beach and get in my way. I can’t figure out if one of them will have road rage, pull a gun, and have some huge traffic backup.
I can figure out about how long it takes two people to have breakfast, but not how long it would take a group of ten to get ready, meet for food, who all would actually even go, and then if anybody has to stop for gas and then get lost on the way to the salon.
I can figure out about how many songs should fit into a six hour time block, but I can’t figure out if someone is going to make a request that leads to an hour-long segment of 80’s remixes and a session of doing shots.
I can figure out how long it takes to walk from one side of the lawn to the other, but I can’t figure out how long hugging everyone is going to take.
I can figure out how long it takes me to get to the airport, pick up people to take them to the hotel, and then get to lunch, but I can’t figure out if they’re going to want to sight-see or anything in between.

And you know what? I’m okay with not being able to figure it all out. The thought here is just to breathe, get through it, and enjoy the hell out of this next ten days. 🙂

Yesterday I went and got a tan.

A spray tan.

My last tanning adventure was in the late 90’s, just in time for Junior Prom. It ended in a full body burn that went really well with my sequined dress. The dress, mind you, was quite awesome…but it hurt LIKE A MOFO to wear over that burn.

Technology has come a fairly long way, so I’m proud to say that my pasty-white self is a light carmel color for the next few days. Approved! 🙂

Hello, Good Morning

Hi. How are you? Good? Great. I’m alright, thanks for asking.

It’s morning somewhere else. It’s almost 22:00 here. 9:44pm PST, because my skills are lacking when it comes to telling military time. My math skills in general are lacking. That reminds me: my coworker’s daughter (age 9) was at the office the other day. She was doing her math homework and there were fractions.

Two decades ago, I could do fractions. Now? No fucking way. I know half, and can maybe figure out thirds or quarters. If there wasn’t a percentage calculator online then your humble narrator would be up the infamous creek with no paddle.

I digress(ed).

Is the proper phrase “I digress”, or “I digressed”? In any case, I’m on a roll so clarification is on hold indefinitely. Sounds good to me.

Did you guys know how BUSY things have been for me? Of course not. Why would you? You’ve all got your own lives, busy – or not, as the case may be. Thank you for reading, if you are.

So what’s really going on with me? I know you care. Like this guy said “I have no idea what’s happening in Libya, but I know everything there is to know about Charlie Sheen.” The whole OMGINTERNET SO SRS thing is really killing me. I don’t care as much as Nice People Protocol says I should about my friends. You know what else that guy (linked above) said that I can totally get behind? This:
So I get out of bed (the couch) and do some laundry and decide to do some online maintenance, and I open FaceBook and read some of the News Feed from my “friends”. Political bullshit, look at my kids, God’s Unending Love, Kiki and RayRay are the Koolest evr!, My baby this, my boo that, My misspekgjhdb onn prpose wrds cuz im kewl.

It’s true, it’s true, it’s SO fucking true and that is another post/rant for another time.

Oh hey, that guy (linked above) is getting married to this chick tomorrow. I’m going. It should be a good time. 🙂 It’s at my work, so at least I can’t get lost. Haha!

Speaking of, work’s been insane lately. This has been somewhat brought upon by myself. I volunteered myself for extra duties several years ago, and it’s catching up with me, my infamous habit of overworking for free. Why? Why do I do these things? It’s because I don’t like representing a company that is super-old-fashioned or just overall behind the technological times, so anything I can do to help bring them up to snuff is going to get done, free or no. Because that’s just how it is in my head. Anyway, that’s been hurting me for a few months now and the stress is starting to build. I haven’t done yoga or been to the gym in a month. I’m all broken out in hives. That’s great. You know why? Because my bachelorette party is this weekend and my wedding is April 23rd. No biggie.

Last year was a hell of a year for me. Things changed, they stayed the same, they self-destructed and went sailing out over the horizon. Bad things and good things had a party in my head and decided to leave me out of it. My depression kicked into overdrive, and I had two breakdowns. I was very, very close to bailing out on my credit score and moving to Mexico… and didn’t tell anyone about much of any of it.

Somewhere around December, my brain took most of the really sad stuff in my head and put it neatly into a “File Away And Don’t Touch” box in the back of my mind. It can’t hurt me right now. Eventually it will, but not right now. I ended up throwing myself full force into planning (and paying) for my own wedding. All of it. I am very, very organized: spreadsheets? Check. Color-coded check. You can’t think about things if your brain is filled with other things, so it’s a good idea to make sure that you’re on work overload as well as personal-shit overload. for me anyway.

This is a ceremony-and-reception for almost a hundred people. Fully catered, open bar, DJ, couture gown, the whole deal. Couture gown? Me? Yes. I got a Pronovias gown. Handmade in Spain. What ……I don’t even.

I’ve been planning this for a VERY VERY VERY long time and now it’s down to a few weeks. Even at my post-alterations fitting last week (which was hot-damn-fabulous), even at every single line item, all of it… it still feels like I’m planning it for someone else. My veil came in, my hairdo trial was lovely, but that’s all for someone else, right? I went with the groom & best man to watch them get fitted for their tuxes. We signed off on a marriage license and picked out a first dance song and my wonderful maid of honor handmade me <a href=”; target=”_blank”>a brooch bouquet that is the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me. She’s throwing me a bachelorette party, of which the itinerary is still a surprise. All I’ve ever wanted is a surprise party. Actually, all I ever wanted was a surprise party (or romantic evening) that I didn’t have to mention/insinuate/plan first, but this is a hell of a close second.

And in my free time (??), you know what I’ve been doing? I’ve been eating cake and drinking Guinness and stressing right the fuck out and I DON’T KNOW WHY.

It’s all organized (to say the least). It’s fine, it’s good, it’s square, it’s covered. My vendors are fantastic, it’s at my work, there have been so many people going out of their way to help me or comp me or give me discounts. My close friends will be there, my mom and in-laws will be meeting for the first time in ten years, and we’re going to have the greatest weekend ever. It’s all gravy, baby, so WHY. AM I. STRESSING. Why is it that whenever I’m alone in my car I suddenly burst into tears? Why am I not at the gym, or happily stretched out on the yoga mat? Why did I pick up an entire fudge cake and eat ALL OF IT!?

On top of this, there is a small itty-bitty spark of potential for a late-summer art show. Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted?


Let me take a deep, deep breathe, exhale, and focus.

I was getting my car checked out the other day (oil change, some replacement lights, etc), and was sketching. That was one of the things I sketched. One of the employees (because I was there for close to three hours) asked me what I was drawing, so I hesitated and said “Well, this is just kind of doodling. It’s not awesome. It’s just a random whatever, but um…” and he said, “MAN WTF ARTISTS ALWAYS SAY THAT WHAT ARE YOU DRAWING”.

It was a cupcake. Okay? A cupcake. I like drawing them. Sometimes I paint them, and sometimes they come out like this:

He said: “Man, that’s just fine. That’s a good sketch and there’s nothing wrong with it. I can’t draw a cupcake for sh/t. You got skill.”

I don’t feel like I have skill because I look up to people like Craola and Mister Cartoon and Banksy. *THEY* have skill. I just have …whatever it is that I have, and don’t feel like it’s very good at all.

And then, just moments ago, I saw this article:
How To Steal Like An Artist and 9 Other Things Nobody Told Me.

You know what that means? All those things I’ve been thinking about, blogging, art, whatever, there is no good reason for me not to do them. I don’t do them because I feel like I’ll be judged. The internet is different now (than my heyday) and I’m scared of judgment.

So……… I don’t know what will happen, but I’m going to save that article, and remind myself that it’s okay to draw cupcakes all to my heart’s content, even if they do look like shit. Because it’s my shit, and that’s what counts.

Also, no more cake tonight.