This 'n That But Mostly THIS

THIS LADY.

THIS lady.

THIS GAWDDAMN SUMAMABITCH HUMAN GARBAGE LADY.

THIS lady's TED talk about disability and "inspiration porn."

THIS beauty "cloth" aka loofah towel of exquisite torture.

THIS secret love shack.  Actually, I'd like to enjoy its angled beauty alone so... secret masturbation shack?

Speaking of orgasms... THIS comic.  First one's free.  The comic not the orgasm...

THIS painting.

THIS illustration.

THIS 7000* year old Donkey Tail. 

*age is approximate

THIS corner of green.

THIS green corner.

THIS animal bone wedding tiara.

THIS eyeliner.

THIS... partliner?

That's all.  I'm working on my bucket list and figuring out how to upholster a headboard!  

The internet makes it seem so easy.  I'll probably quit halfway through and play with eyeliner...

Like Jesus I've been resurrected from blog death!

It has come to my attention this week that the ultimate tragedy has befallen our nation: YOU WERE NOT ABLE TO READ MY BLOG.  Apparently there was some kind of Blogger/Feedburner fuckery because new posts did not show up in RSS readers or email subscriptions since about January.  I only discovered this when my post earlier this week prompted Feedburner to wake the fuck up and send the entire backlog all in one dump and it confused people.

Thanks a fucking lot, internet things that I do not understand how they work.

Also, thanks to y'all for not even telling me!  I could have been dead, my rotting corpse hunched over on top of my laptop, Charlemagne long since eaten my eyeballs then moved away, and y'all would be like "I think she's just on hiatus..."

I would never leave for two months without telling y'all.  That's just rude.  Two weeks, maybe.  Ok maybe three like in that one summer a few years ago when it was just too damn hot to blog but never months.  

So I hope you're still here and thanks to the people that check on my site old school style or came through from Twitter.  I really should be better about tweeting myself but that seems really hard when I'd rather tweet about US Airways blunders and the weather.

So I'm not posting anything of real value today, just letting you know am I NOW aware of the problem and trying to investigate the why.  So a quick recap of what I've been up to lately?  Um...

First off, I read these while spending some time in airplanes the past few days:

All excellent.

In bloglandia, I've been planting a lot, ants make really good architects, I saw American Hustle, I WANT to see this cabin, I thrifted - A LOT - and I gave some of my latest travel and moisturization secrets to you.

Most importantly, I've kinda been redecorating my bedroom.  It needed some love after many sad years of bland and I got kinda inspired by this whole jungle theme which I totally appropriately named Heart of Darkness.  But don't worry, the jungle theme is only for blog lyfe and inspiration.  But I made a real mood board and have slowly been changing up my beauty rest space and have painted all the walls and made some other progress.  Mostly a mess but some progress too.

I think that's the main stuff.  The sad part is that I've made a pointed effort to blog more this year only to find out that almost no one is reading it.  Sigh... such is blog life.

Anyway, welcome back, missed you, love you, let's drink some chai spiked with booze and talk about my plants and paint colors and eggs.

In light of this weekend, y'all know I'd rather cut off my infamous beauty mole than celebrate the resurrection of Christ but I did run across these Easter eggs - let's call them Spring Equinox Eggs of Blessed Fertility aka Mother Nature's Ovary Glitter - and was kinda amazed.

They're decorated with flowers and then wrapped in onion skins and boiled.  Our ancestors really knew their shit.

See the full tutorial and pictures at Ulicam

But mostly about eggs and pretty colors.

Hopefully we won't have any more blog issues but please holler at me if you're having problems with something - commenting, feedly messing things up, you think I might be dead.

You're on your own with eggs though.

I have communed with nature! And it was sweaty.

I know y'all have been waiting to exhale because I've been on vacation but give a good sigh, Loretta Devine, because this Madame is back!

Back from my super '70s National Geographic style vacation to a cabin in the mountains all brought to you in muted glory by my iphone. 

I'm a girl that needs a lot of alone time and even though I live alone sometimes I need even MORE alone time (I'm greedy) so I decided to escape my nightmare schedule of playing on the internet and snuggling with my cat to really spend some Q. T. with M. E. 

AND because I'm a saint I wanted no tv or internet, too.  (But I did have a decent phone connection so I wasn't recreating a sexier and more hilarious version of "Into the Wild" - I just needed to check in and make sure my cat was being appropriately snuggled with while I was gone.)

So I went to the woods to get in touch with my inner hippie goddess of magical witchy fun times and tree dancing.  

And Instagram filters.  I couldn't help it.  Sorry.

But if it makes you feel any better about the fauxthentic picture spread, here at the Amicalola Falls where most of these pictures were taken there were a lot of really tight high-waisted jeans and long hair and dudes with big beards so my Instagrams edits weren't that far off.

Also, this inner hippie goddess thing is very bossy.

Amicalola Falls is about two hours away from Chattanooga in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Northwest Georgia.  It's also a short 8.5 mile hike to the start of the Appalachian Trail.  I did not go there - I got as far as this historical marker.  I did my best just to make the hike from the parking lot to the base of the waterfall.  

It was Memorial Day and fucking humid as fuckity fuck.  Did I mention hot as dragon's balls?  Because it was that too.  I stopped and took a bunch of pictures of boring shit just so I could catch my breath and make sure I wasn't sweating through my pants.  Again.

"Oh goodness, at this dead tree here! Isn't nature awesome?  I can't wait to make this look like a mildewed picture from a 1974 National Geographic found in a box in basement!  Do I have a sweat outline of my panties again? Be grateful I didn't wear a thong, fellow Falls adventurers."

But I made it!  Well, I thought I did until I saw this sign:

Well fuck.  At least they warned me.  I sat and drank another Life Water because I'm a douchebag and tried to build up the emotional fortitude to make the hike.  

I also saw entire families walking back down - families with half a dozen toddlers that were being carried by women.  Women in saris and cute flats and full makeup.  And then I saw a pregnant woman who wasn't even sweating come back down.  And then I saw some grandmas making the return trip.  I think they were knitting...

But once I saw the guy smoking a MOTHERFUCKING PIPE start up the strenuous 175 steps I slapped myself and started on my stairmaster hell.

After 57 steps I stopped at the out-of-shape losers platform where a bunch of us were trying to look like we wanted to take pictures of some trees instead of looking like out-of-shape losers.  A chubby dog and I locked eyes and panted at each other from across the bench.  

"At least you don't have a sweat river running down your boobs, buddy."

"At least you didn't scrape off a testicle trying to jump up stairs that weren't made for paws."

Touche, my furry friend.

But look!

I made it!  And so did my half-neutered friend.  Ahhh the splendor of nature.  

With another 400 steps I could have walked to the top!  But I was out of Life Waters.  Wah wah waahhhh.

So I drove!  And it was worth it.

But my mountain safari was done and I needed to spend some time taking a nap.  And showering.

Thus begins redneck cabin time.

 Woodland nymph communion commences!

It was a pretty bitchin cabin as long as you were cool with a timber-covered trailer in the middle of nowhere vibe which is like my personal DREAM VACATION.  Oh wait... kinda like the one I'm on.

This is so terrible.  I loved it.

However, I learned that the resort/conference center I stayed at was actually more of a couples' retreat when I noticed my cabin was located on Lover's Lane.  *eyeroll*

If there was any confusion about the true nature of my hideaway it was cleared up once I saw this on the other side of the bedroom:

Seriously, the Instagram filter hardly changed this photo. 

Cue porn music!  That's a giant hot tub.  INSIDE the cabin.  With a deck.  Complete with a heart-shaped rug on it.  Gawd bless these people.

Just to make my solo vacation even more ironic, I read the guest book on the coffee table and Nicole from Conyers, Georgia wrote that she hoped they - and this is a real quote - "cleaned this cabin really well after we leave!"  Emphasis hers.

So I spent the rest of my few days napping on a towel that I put down on the couch and eating dinner at the table that was covered in towels but unfortunately I couldn't sleep standing up.  Hopefully the bleach I put in the hot tub santized me.

Just kidding.  I didn't come within five feet of the STD petri dish.

But now all the staff comments about "So you're here alone, honey????!?!!" really made sense.  I just thought they were being super judgey about my solo vacation.

Aside from the terrible visual images of a hot tub full of fucking, I read a good book and did some swinging on the porch swing (with a towel on it) and had a perfectly lovely few days to myself.

My blood thirsty inner hippie goddess was sated for a few more months.

I brake for chainsaw sculpture art.

I was fortunate enough to also find some gems along the drive to my retreat like this folk art studio (Being a true Southerner, I'm great at Sunday drives no matter the day).  These people got in touch with their inner hippie goddesses about 40 years ago and didn't let go.

AND they had an old white camper and a white peacock in their backyard-slash-outdoor sculpture garden -slash-zoo.  Um hello?!  I couldn't NOT stop.  This is the image that best sums up what my soul looks like.

And maybe my soul looks a bit like this scary abandoned schoolhouse (?)...

And definitely this vintage hotel sign.  Minus the super racist part.

All in all I had a great week off - mountaineering, napping, drinking, eating, Doctor Who-ing and partying!  Next post: patio partio.

But now I'm busy trying remember how to use the internet so I can buy a white peacock and start a white animal zoo.  I've only got one (live) white animal so far but fingers crossed.   My birthday is just a few months away.

Maybe I can even get a white walker from Game of Thrones and chain it up in the backyard like in Shaun of the Dead...??  A girl can dream!

There aren't enough books in The Hunger Games to fill your Edwardian fantasy library.

Every day during one of my endless internet adventures I see a picture like this: 

Lili Aber Regen via Desire to Inspire

Followed by something like: *squee* "One day I'll have a room like this in my house! *end squee*

source?

Trick, please.  Based on the flagrant disregard for cohesive sentence structure in your blog post and/or the three pins I saw before this one that I'm totally judging you on, I'm going to guess that you don't read a lot of books.  Certainly not enough to warrant hundreds of linear feet of shelving space.  

The last book you probably picked up was Snooki's autobiography at Target and whatever remaining shred of dignity you possess rightfully made you put it back on the shelf.  

via Apartment Therapy

I'm guessing the only books that you physically own are probably a few books you were forced to read in college, Skinny Bitch and Eat, Pray Love.  Let's not pretend like you have the time, inclination or comprehensive reading skills to process the amount of material displayed so orderly behind that succulent green curtain.  

You wouldn't know what an antagonist was if it walked up to you in matching UGG boots, ripped the fro yo out of your hands and proceeded to beat you about the head.  Maybe you could block the blows with the Kindle Fire that you tell people you love to read on but really only use to watch old episodes of Dawson's Creek via Netflix.

via Apartment Therapy

Confession: I barely know what an antagonist is and I'm in a book club.

I'm all for gorgeous pictures of books.  I'm kinda posting pictures of them RIGHT FUCKING NOW and lawd knows I've waxed poetic about them in the past.  But I have the decency to not pretend like I'm going to have a library like any of these images. And I actually READ!

Well mostly.  It ebbs and flows.  I've had books on my nightstand for months - ok years -  that I'll get to one day but the hour I could have spent reading is an hour I spent instead finding these pictures of bookshelves.  For YOU.  So sorry, dusty book of Eudora Welty short stories next to my alarm clock.  What's one more unread night when we're already shared so so many?! 

source? I suck at credit today. Sorry.

I knew a girl that used to pull out the "smart" books on her shelf and display them facing outward so everyone could see their titles and therefore marvel how smart she is for reading such respected tomes.  Obviously she didn't think we were smart enough to figure out her sneaky plan.  

I'm much more likely to display my most-read books facing out for easy access like my Sextrology book and Twilight.

From Maison Boheme who you can tell reads.

I'm kidding.  All my shelves are hidden in a cedar-lined closet library installed by the previous owners so I don't display any books for public ridicule.  It's a pretty awesome space and is great for hiding my books about astrology and sparkle vampires.  Or that Anita Shreve phase I went through...  


Andy by 'Anita Shreve' I mean 'every book Suze Orman has ever attached her name to.'

here

Besides, if someone does were to run across a smart book in the open I'm afraid they'll ask me an insightful question about it and I'll have to deflect by screaming obscenities at them and pretending we're about to be attacked by rogue vampires.

Histoire via Plastolux

Beacuse really - have you EVER been in a house where a person had more than two maaybe three Billy bookcases full of books?  Uh, no.

So let's remember kids: Repetition in excess is either disgustingly luxurious, a delusion or a phone call away from Dr. Robin Zasio's furrowed brow appearing at your front door so choose wisely what you want to collect.  

Or what you lie about collecting.

Yep.  They sure do.  But I hate to tell a bitch there aren't enough books in The Hunger Games to fill their fantasy Edwardian library.

Note to self: work on cohesive sentence structure.

This makes me exceedingly happy.

How many people are blogging about this today?

It's the saucy new illustrated Kama Sutra by Malika Favre for all you graphic design nerds who are also dirty dirty sex freaks and are bored with reading Cosmo's position-a-day and need to raise the bar this holiday.  Now you don't have to attempt to figure out how to defy gravity doing the Rotating Praying Mantis by looking at old hippies with bad hair.  Or maybe that was just me when I was a teenager reading the Kama Sutra in secret...

I'm so grateful for something else to look at other than "modernized" hearts.  I don't dislike Valentine's Day but I hate the heart shape.  If you're going to profess your undying love for me do it with a circle because that's my favorite shape.  That's not a wedding ring joke, I just prefer circles.

I'd post more of the illustrations because they're super cool but I draw the line at featuring cartoon BJs no matter how much I dig the way they're drawn.  But feel free to check them out along with Malika's other prints. 

Also, Malika really tweaked my cartoon nipple because look at this header:

HEEEYYYYY!  

Remind you of anything?

Bladow.  I just realized that my mole is a circle.  Apparently I'm some kind of weirdo narcissist...

Anymole - praying manti, Whitman's samplers and heart shapes aside, let's make an effort to support V-Day this month.  It's the organization that helps end violence against women started by Eve Ensler of The Vagina Monologues.  Usually the play is produced this month all over the country and proceeds from tickets sales go to local organizations that fight violence and sexual abuse.  It's a great show - for men too - if you've never seen it.

If you want to paint on a fake mole so we could all look alike when we go see the play that's totally up to you but might be really cool.  Just sayin...

*mole tweak*

Pimpin ain't easy but shopping is.

Yesterday's post made me cranky so I figured we'd talk about something infinitely more fun - shopping!  Every year around the holidays bloggers pump out wish lists and gift ideas for every type of person imaginable.  Are you a nerdy dog-loving emo Harajuku girl with six fingers on one hand and a love for purple and indie-electro-pop music?  Then we have just the list for you!  But I guess since the JCP catalog is now defunct (RIP) then these wish lists are all we have anymore to shop from.  Hopefully kids now have moms who know how to use the internet because mine doesn't so without the JCP catalog I would have been fucked.


Everybody seems to love pretending to buy gifts from the lists but do people actually shop from them?  I doubt it so I'm going to start the annual "Shit I Bought Myself" post holiday roundup and then you can be just like me if you want.  I'm treading on dangerous territory here because I told most of my friends I wanted to keep Christmas small because I'm broke but now I'm showing them WHY I'm broke.  Hey - priorities.  It's all about ME this year remember??  It's also the end of January and I'm still shopping for me so this post is still completely relevant.


First off, I'm functionally retarded when it comes to gadgets but I bought a Roku at the advice of a saucy friend and love it!  I feel so fancy.  Please don't mention Google tv if you think it's better because it'll embarrass Santa.

you're adorable Roku

It's a precious little box of goodness that streams all my favorite episodes of Arrested Development from Netflix and Hulu and Amazon and I can jam to my favorite Bieber stations on Pandora.  It also has a bunch of other weirdo channels...  Crappy 1940's Westerns?  You're in luck.  I even installed it (I plugged it in) all by myself.  I'm so tech savvy I think I'm going to go write some code right now.  *beep boop beep*

West Elm's Winter Ice canape plates but they're gone now. Your loss.

These are perfect when I serve my selection of tiny boxes of raisins and Triscuits when I'm hosting a fancy No Expectations Party.

from abbytrysagain

I heart snakes so this print was an easy sell.  $11.  Done.

Photoshop fabulosity courtesy of Makeup and Beauty Blog

Bliss Blood Orange + White Pepper products smell so damn good and therefore I do too.  Thanks Santa.  The Bill Compton cameo was just a bonus but this graphic obviously implies he would like it too.  SOLD!!!

You know you want it too.

I'll never craft anything out of this book just like I never made a recipe out of her cookbook but it made me pee my pants.  Must have.


Oh and I'm buying myself some of these:

Except with MORE cathedral arches!!  You can never have enough cathedral arches when it comes to oak cabinets!!!  I'll be ordering them next week for an extra late Christmas present to myself and I'll tell you all about them so you can get up close and personal with these beauties. 


But since I spent all my money on the fun things above there are a few things that ended up being out of my price range.  Wah wah waaaah...  Like these little guys:

from Syma Small Works

That's 24k gold on the insides of those little 3" smoked pots but at $90 for ONE it means I'll have to start pimping hos out of the new kitchen  They do come with a poem though.  Next year....


And I'll have to pass on this scarf.

Grommet Scarf via Design for Mankind

At $225 I did a WTF double take but I do love that hardware.  Oh do I love it...  Who needs a sink?  This scarf will satisfy my thirst for fashion accessories. 




I also technically can't afford this:

But I'm figuring that the pimping business I'll be doing out of the newly remodeled space will definitely pay for it because even though pimpin' ain't easy I think Ice T showed us that it does indeed bring success.  Or at least a job on the best version of Law & Order next to Christopher Meloni.