elephantine

lushness

Love the quirkiness and rich colors from Coley Claire.

I spent as much time as possible yesterday doing nontechnological things – making unmeasured amounts of iced tea, cleaning the apartment, baking cookies, laying deflated on our sage green sectional couch that I rarely sit on, sewing, taking photos, playing whole albums of Bob Dylan and PJ Harvey through the livingroom speakers. I finished reading Adverbs, so now I can rightfully say that it did not get any better and if I had been the publisher I would have cut the strings as soon as I had the chance. I'm already seventy five pages into my new read, Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking, which is worrisome for an anxious person like me to read but at the same time a great relief after drudging my way through the previous book.

The cat did it again yesterday. In the middle of the afternoon, Stefan comes into the livingroom, where I'm sunken into the sage green sofa, and asks if I know where Rufus is.

"I thought he was with you," I say. As if he were a small child.

Then after a few minutes I hear an excited, "Rufus! In there, again!" and I peel myself off the couch and go over to where Stefan is at, right in front of the washing machine. I peek down into it and there's Rufus, curled up around the central tower in the middle of the machine. He's hugging the pole with his body, purring, looking back up at me with unapologetic glassy eyes.

I'm unsure what the agenda is for today. I had wanted to play tennis yesterday but the air was so saturated with warmth that I knew I'd get exhausted and complainy after a few serves. So that may happen, or maybe the driving range will happen, or maybe it won't be insane everywhere and there will actually be open spaces in the parking lots for parks and open tables for restaurants with outdoor seating.

demetri

Demetri is the newest little guy up in the shop. He comes with Bing the snake, who can be curled around Demetri in a number of ways. Blue snakes are the best.. am I right? See more details here.

warm & fuzzy

Sweetness from etsy: Eggman Studio's Narwhal print & Clementine's Starlight necklace.

Today is the first day that it really feels like summer, so brilliantly light everywhere, restlessness itching throughout the whole office. During lunchtime all of downtown pours out onto the sidewalks, a thousand pairs of sunglasses dusted off.

Lucky for me, I spent most of the day sucked into a new project that has the potential for the kind of motion design I've been yearning to do. After Effects, you and I are becoming quite fond of each other, aren't we. I don't shoot you that blank stare so much anymore.

And let me just say that watching a tutorial on youtube that is being narrated by a someone with a thick Scottish accent makes it WAY more enjoyable to watch.

To top it off, after that I got an email from Stefan (who had taken the day off and was at home) that says: "So, I get clothes out of the dryer and RUFUS IS SITTING IN THE WASHING MACHINE. I carry dry clothes to bedroom, go back to get him, and he's sitting in the DRYER."

I almost spit out my cranberry juice but then write back: "Wait a minute.... are you telling me that our washing machine is a portal to our dryer?"

This reminds me that I've always wanted someone to invent a single machine that both washes and dries. If this exists, please please send a link to me. Or maybe, ahhh, it'd be cooler to have a robot that does my laundry? Or, wait, wait, how about a cat that doesn't hide inside appliances? Is that too much to ask for? My god, now I'm going to have to make little warning signs and tape them onto anything that's plugged in and bigger than a shoebox: "CHECK FOR CAT BEFORE USING."

Mixtape no. 4 (this is the post with self-ridicule)

I kind of get the feeling that no one listens to my mixtapes (there's been three others so far, reeling in a grand total of two comments), so I'm making it a little easier and posting this new one on Muxtape for the masses to wrinkle their noses at. Per usual, there's no real theme, unless "I'm so glad it's getting to be summer and some of these songs are old and some of them are new but I like listening to all of them" can be squashed neatly into one word. Anyway, check it out here.

When I got to work this morning it seemed that an above average number of people said hello to me, which in a small way instantly made it a better day. But then I passed someone in the hallway and she said "Good," toward me out of nowhere. Not "good morning," just "good," and with the tone used for answering a question. I immediately thought, "Wow, could I have just asked her how she was doing without even realizing it? Could I be going an ounce crazy, mouthing questions as I walk around?"

Recently I've been making notes about things from pre-adolescent days that distinctly remind me of that time but that I've (sometimes purposely) forgotten. One of them is "accidentally calling a friend Mom or Dad." I'm pretty sure this is a common faux pas for that age, but if not, I guess I've just let slip one of many ways I used to contribute to my own awkwardness.

I want to know why pugs snort.

Last night I saw this photo and nearly screamed because it's THAT CUTE. (Via Apartment Therapy.)

The conversation I overhear during my morning busride is between two male voices, although I start listening halfway in and under the whine of the bus I feel like I'm tapping a phone with a bad connection. The older voice asks something that returns the answer "Japanese," and the older voice then says, "I lived in the Philippines for five years." 

"Oh, yeah, well that's still pretty far from Japan," says the younger voice.

There's a moment of silence, then Older Voice tries again: "I've been to Hong Kong."

Younger Voice tells him he's never been to Hong Kong. Maybe five, six minutes pass, then Older Voice blurts out, while presumably pointing out the window: "I used to work in that building, for (company). Before it moved."

"Really? I work at (company)!" says Younger Voice. My ears perk up because the firm that I work at has done design work for the company they're talking about.

"You're in the new building, then," Older Voice says unnecessarily. "You know, I work right across the street from you."

When it's Younger Voice's bus stop, Older Voice obviously also gets off the coach too, and I see what they look like at last. I recognize Younger Voice – I don't know him, but he's a regular on this route, and he's wearing his usual salad-green rain jacket and gray cap and spotty mustache. The older fella continues to tag along next to him down the block.

(I wrote all of that nine hours after the fact during my evening busride, and guess who was sitting right across from me – yes, Youngervoicegreenjacket. And as I'm writing in my tiny nearly undecipherable red scrawl I become a little worried at the very minuscule chance that this guy has x-ray vision and is going to realize what I'm doing and call me out, saying, "Hey listen, lady, you can't just do that, write about my somewhat awkward conversation with a stranger and tell everyone about it in your blog. You can't just do that, and besides, it's really not even that funny.")

da-da-ding

This morning I watched this incredible wall-painted animation: MUTO by BLU. Make sure to listen, too – the soundtrack really enhances its amazingness.

About an hour ago I'm in the dressing room of Macy's, trying on a dress that is unflattering in all the worse ways, overhearing the only two other people in there. A girl is in the hallway with a summer dress on and her mother tells her that it's too "Ellie Mae," to which the daughter says, "Ellie who? I don't know who that is... oh, the hillbilly?" Then she changes and comes back out for her mom's next verdict.

Girl: "I like them... but they're more expensiver." (Yes, "expensiver.")
Mom: "Oh, wow, wow. Those jeans look amazing."
Girl: "They're 70 dollars."
Mom: "Is your grammy still out there? Go show her. They look so good. Really good."
Girl: "I like them... but they're 70 dollars."
Mom: "Wow, do those fit great. They look really great."

The mom was seriously having a heart attack over these pants. I wouldn't be surprised if she ended up buying every pair on the rack.

We also wander into the video game store, and the first thing I notice is a pair of legs laying very still on the floor. For a second I think that someone's passed out, but then I see that it's just a guy so invested in thumbing through the bottom shelf of games that he's laid down on the floor to get a good look.

no, the smaller drawer

Design by Takeshi Miyakawa (via Boing Boing).

Tonight I will be watching The Hills season finale, but not without plenty of shame. I think I only ever started watching it because there was a free episode download in the iTunes Store a year or so ago. And then this awful, somehow addictive show sucked me into its over-privileged cat-fight quicksand and I ended up buying all of the other episodes, $1.99 at a time, giddily impatient as the download bar sluggishly chugged along.

One thing I know for sure is that you will never ever catch me watching the upcoming Living Lohan. I would rather sell our tv than succumb to sitting through that.

six thoughts from the weekend

1. Phillip Lim makes this little girl too cute for her own good. And I wouldn't mind owning the dress on the right. Wouldn't mind at all.

2. Still full from delicious dinner of teriyaki salmon, rice pilaf, orange slices, iced lemonade.

3. I'm Not There was better than I expected. 8/10.

4. Went to the hardware store yesterday with my parents for self-adhesive mailbox numbers. When we got up to the retail display, my mom immediately pulled out a piece of note paper and I just couldn't resist asking, "Shouldn't you know which numbers you need?" (See, sometimes I'm quick.)

5. Slightly disturbed that the kids in the Sunday funnies are now grown and have children of their own. Does this mean that I just haven't read them in forever or that comics time is insanely warped? I'm voting for the latter.

6. Suddenly intrigued with the idea of small weddings in Hawaii.

How was yours?

i'm on fire, i'm on fire

Interesting art from corduroy.

After playing volleyball last night I'm left with a long bruise tattooing my left hand. It looks like a little kid scribbled all over my wrist with a purple pen and then rolled my palm on an almost dried out ink pad. I guess I can't expect much less since when you really think about it, all I was doing for two hours was slapping a hard ball in the face over and over.

And even though it was sweet of Stefan to do a load of laundry after he got home from work, it also meant that my workout pants were uber static-charged and therefore behaved more like spandex for the first hour or so of the game. I developed a temporary nervous tick of pinching them away from my body, trying to convince the fabric from hugging my legs so stubbornly.

lord of the flies

"So," Stefan tells me the other day, "I know why there aren't any flies in our apartment."

"Why?" For some reason I think he's talking about fruit flies.

But he just points an accusatory finger at Rufus, who obliviously stares at me.

I guess if there were pieces of candy flying around, I would eat them, too. Especially if I had no responsibilities besides coating the furniture with hair and chasing around ridiculous toys and using the litter box immediately after it's been freshly refilled, every single time, just to annoy whoever cleaned it.

puppy love

I really want to see Felice Varini's illusional paintings in person. 

    "So I can tell that it's a service dog, but can he open the exit window in an emergency?"
    This is what catches my attention on the bus today. It's being asked by a twenty-something, average-joe man leaning across the aisle, smiling widely at a woman seated next to her dog.
    She gives him a polite laugh and answers, "Well, I'm not so sure about that. He can open doors, though. Can't undo chains, but can open doors." I'm not sure why she's introduced chains into the equation, as the dog is wearing a fabric leash and there isn't (thank god) anyone on the bus chained up.
    Then another woman whips out her cellphone, thrusts her hand out as far away from herself as possible, and takes a picture of the pup. I hear the fake shutter sound effect of the cellphone and the woman coos. The dog gives the lady a wet-eyed glance, eyelids drooping, an oh, bother expression plastered across his face.
    "How old is he?" she asks. Eight years old, the owner tells her.
    "Eight? Wow."
    Then the first guy takes his turn again: "And what kind of dog is he?"
    "A beagle."
    "A beagle, huh! So, AS A SERVICE DOG," he's nearly shouting now over the static of traffic and the air conditioning, "WHAT EXACTLY DOES HE DO FOR YOU?" Wow. Way to be rude. Way to essentially ask the woman, "What's your disability? What's wrong with you, anyway?"

Oh, yeah – and for all you seattlites, the SIFF film lineup was announced today.

second thought

Combine two sources of great awe, and the result is Robert Hodgin's video entry for Aniboom's Radiohead music video contest. See this and this for more of his gorgeous creations made with Processing. Also check out his blog.

this is the post where I go on and on.

Running Amok, a limited edition Scottish zine found on Poketo.

I fall asleep on the bus, which is routine, but the drowsiness washes over me even more quickly than usual because my new book is not proving to be such a treat to read. It feels contrived, unimaginative. And another gripe of mine: don't slap "A Novel" on the cover if it's really just a bunch of short stories (related, but nonetheless still detached). Has anyone else read it? Does it get better after thirty pages?

So I may be starting up a new read, e.g. the one that came in the mail today, Pearl S. Buck's The Good Earth. It's one of several books I just purchased via the beloved Amazon Marketplace. The only downside of AM is that the books always seem to arrive in impossible-to-open packaging. The Good Earth came wrapped in, outside to inside: thick clear tape, then masking tape, then a paper bag, then a plastic Walmart bag, and then – wait for it – saran wrap.

When I wake up from my literary-induced snooze, I'm greeted by a nearly empty bus, which is strange because normally it's still packed shoulders-to-ankles. I hadn't missed my stop, even. We're passing by Half Price Pots and I noticed that there's bus right in front of ours that has an advertisement on its rear for that exact store. Most of the ad is occupied by an illustration of an anthropomorphic, doe-eyed flower nestled snugly in a pot (half priced, I assume) donning exaggerated lashes and a pearl necklace and full-bodied, siren red lips. Beside the plant, in big lettering, the ad demands, "Contain Yourself."

Creepy seducing plants. I hope that in my post-slumber fuzziness I imagined the whole thing.

about nothing really at all

Yum brella bowls by Benjamin Hubert.

Is tonight secretly National Ice Cream Float Night? The two people behind me in the grocery store were stocking up on ice cream and pop. The woman had also tossed a Self magazine on the conveyor belt, though – hmm, a little conflicted, are we? (Okay, so I'm no better. I had a Hostess Fruit Pie today directly before dinner, guilty as charged. But that's the freedom you get with buying your own groceries, right?)

My boyfriend's officemate went to the Mall of America recently. I guess it took her nearly an hour just to walk from one end to the other. And there's a FERRIS WHEEL AND AN AQUARIUM. Seriously?

And I just discovered a post about my yetis on the awesome Plush You blog! Oh, the love.

nice cuts

Love the back of this Susana Monaco dress and the colors + design of this Alisha Levine dress (found via I am Fashion.)

Naturally, during our San Diego vacation we'll be going to the zoo. I was more excited that I probably should have been when I discovered that there is a PANDA CAM ONLINE! My life will be a little bit more complete when I see the adorableness in person.

Speaking of animals, I was about two feet away from being struck by bird poo this morning on my walk to the bus stop. Worse part was that it made this wet slop sound as it slapped down on the concrete. And it was shiny and green and menacing. I walked the rest of the way with my whole body tense, breath sucked in in paranoia, fighting the logical part of me that insisted I wasn't making myself any smaller, any less of a target.