I’m thinking of redoing our bedroom and Owen’s room, and so I look to my Flickr favorites for inspiration. Who knew I was a turquoise kind of girl?
faves
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Monthly Archives: August 2006
I like sewing, I like making things
Sung to the tune of Bender’s stealing song.
I swear to God, one day I will write a Blogher recap post with So Many Links. I will call it BlistHer, because mine still haven’t healed. Stupid citrus-colored Dr Scholl’s — tore my dainty feet to shreds. Bah.
Anyway. Procrastinating on the BlogHer thing means I have poured myself into sewing shit this weekend:
I am on a mission to use up all my scraps — or at least create projects that don’t require me to buy new materials. I’m getting so inspired by the Denyse Schmidt quilt book I splurged on last month (which yielded the oven mitt above, plus the improvisational quality to the scrap quilt and the pillow made of curtain remnants).
In fact, I’m kind of thinking of starting a sewing blog. But that discussion — niche blogging — I’ll save for another day.
The hygiene hypothesis
See, by me not cleaning house I’m actually doing Owen a favor!
Cleaner homes and smaller families, they say, are throwing off our immune systems. In fact, researchers now say we need exposure to healthy doses of bacteria and infectious agents early in life to develop properly.
In fact, he might become too healthy, from the looks of my kitchen.
Sheesh
Where does the time go? I know I promised a link-happy Blogher Ladies post ages ago but dude. So much the pain in the ass.
And I’ve been reconfiguring WordPress themes all the livelong day, dabbling around, and I’m still not happy. And I now have twice the number of plugins I had a week ago. Man oh man.
And Owen is s’dang cute, man. It’s distracting. He’s kind of learning his numbers? I know this because yesterday I was losing my cool and started counting, as a friend of mine had suggested. I go, “one …” and he goes, “tooooooz” and I think I peed my pants with excitement. I had no idea he’d made the connection between one and two! And what’s more, he holds up some fingers while he does it. Usually just one finger, so we’re working on that, but man! So cool!
And I have to make it up to him for missing the garbage truck this week. Am so going to hell.
Also, am going to hell for the 457 e-mails and comments I have yet to reply to. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
Forewarned is forearmed
Be aware: I’m experimenting with Canvas and changing my theme over the next day or two, so things may look a little hinky. Or drop dead gorgeous; I’m hoping for the latter.
Edited to add a note to myself: FINISH suburban misfit’s redesign first! Jeez!
There’s a Flickr set for that
I’ve finished putting up my photos on Flickr: Check out my Blogher ‘06 set for snaps of the famous, the not-so-famous and the fabulous.
Note: Is it silly to squeal because Maggie Mason favorited a photo of mine?
Blogher: True Confessions
Note: This was written last night, though not posted until today.
- I almost missed my flight, and by “almost” I’m talking about a margin of three minutes. My alarm, set for 4 a.m., never went off, and only daylight seeping in at 5:38 woke me in time to haul some major ass to the airport for my 6:30 a.m. flight. I am a person with punctuality issues, but even I still can’t believe that I had to be that running-through-the-airport person Sunday morning. That’s months of panic attack fodder right there.
- I saw Beth Adams in the SLC airport but didn’t say hi. It’s weird to recognize someone you’ve never met before — especially outside of Blogher, which was weird enough.
- I skipped the closing keynote because I was too keyed up.
- All the “cognitive behavorial therapy” I had been practicing from that social anxiety book went straight out the window Saturday night and I was a quivering bundle of nerves. I couldn’t get out of my own head.
- By Saturday night I was emotionally drained and kind of glad to go home.
- I had a panic attack on the flight to Baltimore, because the big man sitting next to me was taking all my air.
- I bawled like a baby when I saw Iain and Owen at the arrivals gate.
- I hated myself all day for not being pretty and funny and outgoing.
- I wanted to die by six o’clock.
- I am finally feeling better about things.