Archive for the 'crafting' category

February 28th, 2007

» me + life = love

So, apparently I am just never going to have time to write with anything resembling regularity or timeliness — I still have a half post from, oh, last year, about Bryce visiting, and it’s just patently not going to happen. (Worse yet is the one from last April’s trip to Baton Rouge.) Things were busy enough around here before the stock market decided to make everyone insane yesterday. I dream fondly of the days when I used to be able to more or less clear my desk off before I left each afternoon.

Over President’s Day weekend Steph & I visited Bryce. There was much crazy-sushi-making (the making of crazy sushi that is, not the crazy making of sushi — well, maybe a little of the latter too), and much Hobee’s, and a little hammocking, and even less sleep, and a lot of driving around San Francisco looking for parking. But the whole San Fran parking thing was totally worth it, because on a whim we popped into the Good Will and within five minutes? Cocktail dress for my work conference (excuse the cameraphoneness):

Read the rest of this entry »

February 2nd, 2007

» compensating for something

I feel like I haven’t written a real post in a long time. Things have just been — busy. Insanely so. I only do the internet thing at work, and since work has been dizzyingly work-ish lately it leaves little time for nattering on about my goings-on and feelings and snacks and all. And I know you’ve just been fretting yourself silly for the last months wondering just what is it I’ve been snacking on.

So I bring you a random smattering of pictures I’ve had tucked away and have just recently rediscovered on my little thumb drive. And also a cook-along, if you’re so inclined.

Read the rest of this entry »

November 3rd, 2006

» work? what work?

Yesterday I came out of the library wrestling my big messenger bag overflowing with books, another stack of them clutched to my chest, and three bags of puppets. I’m babysitting next week and realized I have hardly anything in the way of toys — and what’s better than books and puppets? And I’m going to make scattered sushi, I think, because what toddler doesn’t need gobs of sticky rice to play in?

I also got a few Mexican cookbooks (the tamales were the biggest hit yet at fam dinner night, so I’ve roped Bryce into helping me make more when he visits — which is next week already, ee!), and some sewing books. This week I’m obsessed with kitchen aprons a la Jessie Steele and Anna Wang, and I feel inspired to learn all about the particulars of patterns and fit and the finer points of sewing. Inspired enough that I added some sewing books to the holiday list I gave my mom, though I realized yesterday that means a two month wait. But I can be patient! Especially since it coincides so nicely with being lazy, and I’ve been very much feeling that lately.

Though last night I did, despite the mood o’ doom, force myself to work out, which was an excellent idea, and made me feel a little less bad about the cookie and ice cream I then had. And tonight’s my riding lesson; I always seem to get a better workout during my lesson than when I’m just puttering around on my own, though it’s still nothing like what I get from those Firm amazonistas. Those ladies know how to wring it out of you. I swear my biceps were bigger this morning.

Tomorrow Jo and I are going to go watch men skate around and hit each other with sticks. I can’t wait.

November 7th, 2005

» wherein I ramble mostly about clothes

In the last week or so I have looked at some really awful, depressing apartments, and read about a zillion ‘OMG don’t live here run awaaay!’ apartment reviews. I’m finding this whole apartment-hunting process slightly soul-crushing, to be honest. I’ve come to the realization that my original budget and my need to not live in a craphole are in direct opposition. Since my need to not live in fear and squalor overrides my desire to save money, I have upped my original budget. I may have to get a bit creative with a studio, if I can find one available, but that’d be all right. I could hang some curtains. I’m tired of looking at places I immediately hate. Though I guess it’s much better to realize that on the tour than after move-in.

Yesterday I soothed myself with shopping. I got some more yarn (’cause god knows I don’t have enough of that) and, on a whim and armed with a today-only! 50% off coupon, a book of crochet squares patterns. I justified it because I’ve joined a monthly square swap community and I’ve got three left to finish before the 24th. It’s a beautiful book, all full of gloss and color and pictures. I’ve come to terms with that about myself too. The recipe (for food or craft items) could be completely out-of-this-world, but unless there’s a picture of the finished object or a lot of white space I’m sort of unlikely to try it. Presented with the cheaper black-and-white printed crochet books my brain happily shuts off. I really prefer to get books from the library first to try them, or at least read a bunch of reviews online, but this one was compellingly pretty and bright. I was delighted this morning to discover a dozen and a half glowing reviews on Amazon, and a very high used resale price — higher even than what I’d paid.

I also got clothing of bold-coloredness (teal sweater, red long-sleeved shirt), another workout top and pair of shorts (which in no way match but which were both on sale), and a purse. The purse is lovely. It’s all dark pinky-plum burgundy wine sort of colored tweed with leatherish accents. Long and very shallow. It’s a purse with personality, which is my favorite sort. Buying it I had this sort of impression it would go with lots of my wardrobe, since I have so much pink now, but upon further reflection that’s not strictly true. I’ve shrunk out of most of that first pink infusion, and now I just mostly have no wardrobe. Which is just fine; I’ll just have to buy more pink to match the purse.

I didn’t get what I really went shopping for, which was — well, also a purse. But a little silver dress purse, to go with my new dress. I’ll be in San Francisco the weekend of Bryce’s Yahoo holiday party — Dec 2-4. He’s still trying to get a ticket for Steph too, though I’m not holding my breath. Anyway, I wanted to get a fun new dress but not spend an arm and a leg on it since I almost never have dress-wearing occasions.

My first thought was Everyday People, the resale shop in Uptown where I got my new black wool peacoat (mmm peacoat). So Saturday I met Jo and we went about a zillion places looking for a cocktail sort of dress. It was slim pickings, though, ranging from ultra-formal to pretty damn trashy. We finally pretty much gave up and got our tickets for Mirrormask and just wandered around some, trying to stay in out of the dampness. We wound up by the Corner Store, which I recognized as the place where Katy had gotten her infamous orange pants in high school, so we decided to duck in for a quick look.

They didn’t have a ton in the way of dresses, and lots of them were eighties-ish contraptions with lots of shoulder, or the sort of thing your grandma would wear to a wedding. There was this completely gorgeous red silk kimono-style dress, but it was insanely small. (Later Jo and I determined that if I had all but an inch of my breasts removed it may have fit around my ribcage.) As we were wandering back toward the exit, though, I spotted a black dress that looked promising. Knee-length, sleeveless. I was skeptical about being able to get into it, but at Jo’s prompting I decided it wouldn’t hurt to try it, just to see.

Determined that it probably wasn’t going to fit, I decided I’d just leave my pants on. And then it zipped. And looked — promising. Pretty good, really. But I really didn’t want to have to take off my shoes again, so I just slipped my pants down to my ankles, so we could see the fit better. And it still looked good. So I ended up having to take off my shoes, convinced the whole time it was suddenly going to become un-good, and then I’d've gone to all the trouble of taking them off just to have to put them back on.

It didn’t become un-good. It remained gorgeous. Though it’s cut straight down the chest to the front bra join it is elegant, not trashy. Just below it sort of gathers in, and there is a circular piece studded with silver rhinestones. The skirt drapes beautifully, fun and sort of flirty in a way that makes me want to twirl endlessly. It has a sort of halter-style/racer-back cut that makes a bra impossible, but I miraculously do not need one. Emphasis on the miraculous part. This does not happen. As a D-cup, I do not step out of the house without a bra. They just don’t make clothes with that much support. Except this dress. (Well, and a corset I got a few weeks ago, but that’s a corset. And also a miracle.)

I’m pretty much in love with the dress. It’s vintage 60′s Frederick’s of Hollywood. Not vintage-look or style or whatever — it’s actually itself from the 60s. I need to find a better way of saying that, I think. Everyone I’ve mentioned it to so far hasn’t understood that it’s not reproduction. Not that it matters, but I like the idea of the history of the dress. I like to imagine it’s been to all sorts of glamorous parties.

So anyway. I need to find a purse that does justice to this dress. And earrings. And something to do with my hair. I am not only open to suggestions — I am making a direct plea for them.

I was going to talk about Tum Rup Thai and the boy-hunt that wasn’t, but I’ve spent so long prattling on about the dress that I’m out of time. I have another apartment appointment directly after work. Oh shudder.

I will soothe myself with good thoughts of the dress.

September 14th, 2005

» stupid

Just checking in to say that things are keeping along.

Too little of everything for a real update: time, energy, oomph. News too, though that’s never stopped me in the past. (And, weirdly, it is usually when I have the most to say that I just cannot muster myself to actually say it.)

My latest attempt to deal with fall has been to crochet my little nephew a pumpkin hat. It didn’t work. (Oh, the hat worked in and of itself; it just does not, I have discovered, make the season more palatable this year — though I have not yet seen it on him, so who knows.) This morning I tromped across the cold driveway to my cold car and squeegied cold condensation from the windows with a drowsily black heart. Stupid September. Stupid back-to-school traffic. Stupid coming cold. Stupid sleepy Rachel.