Roundup: Etsy Edition

Friends, I have exciting news. Today I am Guest Curator over at Etsy, where I dreamed up a fabulously mod party pad. Hooray! Now you say it.

In honor of this honor, I have created a spring-like roundup for y'all, made of items from Etsy. I am always into super-bright colors in small doses, but this year I am really feeling good about a more muted palette of brights. Very soothing. Very pastel. Very Easter bonnet.

Herewith, I invite you to enjoy this muted collection of Etsy beauty.


Clockwise from top left: 1. Modern Stripe Bottle Vase 2. Giclee Print 3. Double Braid Necklace 4. Wooden Pastel Eggs 5. Aedriel Originals Tapas Plates 6. Boat Fabric

In other news:

The sentence "If you look in the dictionary under 'muffin top,' you'll find Pamie" is no longer an insult. Yay, OED! (PS, I totally stole that line from one of Pam's Twitter friends. Thank you, person who is more original than I am!)

Also, your friend and mine, Sarah Bunting (aka Hateful Buntsy), is holding her yearly Donors Choose contest. Get your generous asses over there and join in the fun!

In sum: Etsy! Rainbow! Pamie! Giving! YAY.


My New Office: Day One

I woke up this morning confused. Was I late for work? Had I forgotten to do something? What day was it?

The time on my phone read 8:30. And then I remembered. Oh, hell no, I wasn't late. I was EARLY. For my 9:00 appointment with my NEW LIFE.

I thought you might like to take a little tour of my new office, also known as my living room. Please excuse the terrible light in the pictures -- there have been ominous thunderstorms all day. I'm sure it was just the universe's way of saying congratulations.

Anyway, here is my new coffee station. My new assistant had already made the coffee and set out a mug for me. (Just kidding. It was Vince Chao. He later confessed that he chose the Oprah mug so that I would have an inspiring start to my day. I am not making that up.)

Next, I ate several peanut butter cups for breakfast. Don't judge me.

A nice lady sent me some gorgeous flowers this morning. I am not ashamed to say that I did the ugly cry at the card, which read: "May every day be design, hamburgers, and Oprah. Love, Sarah."

Welcome to my new office. I don't know that I've ever shown you this view of the living room; the fireplace is directly behind me. I love having my desk in this room -- the light is usually lovely in the mornings, except of course for today, which is why I have every single lamp burning. Anyway, there's my desk on the ostrich wall, and I've arranged lots of seating in here, for client meetings and/or group napping. So that's pretty cool.

I've tried to make it so my desk stays fairly uncluttered, even though I have a million cords and wires hidden behind the machine. The basket is good for holding pens, my constant rotation of lists, and bills, bills, bills.

The note leaning against the computer is from my boyfriend Greg Berlanti, which he sent me a long time ago along with notes on my spec script. It reads, in part, "Life is too short to have the wrong dream." Indeed.

This is the other side of the living room, which you've seen before -- the desk is now directly behind me. I sat here today while Helen Jane and I discussed our fun times panel for Mom 2.0 in a couple of weeks. I also sat here while on the phone with a new client. NEW CLIENT!

And then I went into the bathroom and took this picture of myself wearing pigtails and jeans, because I can do that now.

So there is my office, and that was Day One. Here's to many more days that are just as good -- nay, even better. Stay tuned.


What I Did Over the Weekend: Or, Is Mercury In Retrograde or Something?

Last week after I left you, I jumped into my car and made the 8-hour drive through Arkansas and Mississippi to somewhere outside of Nashville, where the delightful Maile was hosting a little girls' weekend.

Everything was beautiful and fun and bonding-like, and we did things like drink wine at 10 am and get into a questionably clean hot tub and take self-portraits with wine teeth.

Oh, also, there was bull-riding. And karaoke. I am not trying to brag, but I killed.

Photo by Leah

It was a great weekend. And then my car, usually so nice and reliable, got REAL MAD about the trip. It began to overheat and smoke, and I had to pull over into a random driveway in the middle of Franklin, Tennessee. (The car had actually done a similar thing the night before, but we figured it was just out of antifreeze and if we added more, everything would be fine. AMATEUR HOUR.)

Fortunately, a car full of girls was behind me, so I hopped in with them and then we rode to a grocery store parking lot where I burst into tears and cussed Vince Chao's stupid golf habit that makes him turn off his phone. My road crew rallied magnificently, though, and we decided I would rent a car, have the broken car towed to a mechanic, and spend the night in a hotel. Which I did.

Here is my new best friend and tow guy, Willie. Willie made me laugh AND let me take his picture AND got my car to the mechanic without a hitch (hee, "hitch"), so he obviously wins everything.

And then I checked myself into the best hotel ever, the Hutton, where the cool check-in girl gave me all kinds of treats after hearing my sad story. So I had my two complimentary cocktails, went up and watched SportsCenter, and fell into the sleep of the dead.

Room service coffee the next morning. WHAT, I DESERVED THAT NINE DOLLAR COFFEE.

My amazing mechanic, the baby-faced and 22-year-old Charlie, whom I found on the Internet in a frantic search for 24-hour auto repair, had my car fixed by 9 the next morning. So I returned the rental, retrieved my newly-radiatored vehicle, and drove home. The end.

Please do not miss the video of me riding the bull, as I feel it is super hilarious. Thank you.


Y'all Don't Be Mad.

I am going out of town again. This time, it's for a weekend retreat. I know, I am working super hard these last two weeks of my job. But y'all, it is for a good reason. I have to NETWORK, OKAY? God.

Please allow me to assuage you with photos from last weekend at SxSW. Here is a picture of me and Maggie, in which I am clutched to her breast. I will see Maggie this weekend:

I will not see Holly, but that is because she is probably still hungover from this night, and from all of the queso she ate.

Helen Jane wants you to understand her glitter + cowboy outfit.

Helen Jane also wants you to leave her and her sangria gallon ALONE.

Here is The Bloggess. She is famous for doing a bunch of stuff that made people mad. She's cute and nice.

And finally, here is an adorable teenager with a cat named Senator (not at SxSW, just in my house.)

OK, so y'all don't be sad. I will be back next week with more exciting posts. I may even post while I'm gone. You don't know! Whatever! Au revoir!


French Monday

Some of you may know that I started a funny Flickr group a while back called Bench Monday (along with my co-conspirator Martha), in which I encouraged people to photograph themselves standing on benches on Mondays, for fun. You may also know that I tire of things easily, so after a few months of Mondays, I was done. HOWEVER, I do like taking pictures of outfits, especially where I dress up in my own interpretation of a French girl (The highest compliment you can give me, in fact, is that I look French. Shut up.).

I usually work from home on Mondays, so I get to be a little more casual than business casual, which you can see by the length of this dress, which is actually a t-shirt from American Apparel, which is an idea I stole from a certain light packer. Today I wore this to do work, go to the store, take Hank to the river, and go for a bike ride.

My hair is too short to go into a proper ponytail, so I supplement with a vintage scarf. Knot in front = French. The beautiful shagreen cuff is by Cocodri.

Tiny ponytail is unacceptable, but will be remedied as soon as I buy a bottle of Mane & Tail. Heh, just kidding. OR AM I?

I bought the belt via the AB Chao International Shopping Team when Stella McCartney had her line at H&M. Sarah braved CRAZY crowds to buy this for me in Chicago. It's all kind of broken and janky now, but I still love it.

Oh, hello, I am just standing here in front of my closet doors being French. Cigarette? Oui.

That's right. You know French girls have just a little bit of edge in every outfit. Here: a bit too short in the back. Amazing suede (and somehow indestructible) sandals by Chie Mihara.

Aaaaaaand, here's the real me. Not French, just unable to understand the remote. And quite sad about it.