silly band fans

I know...
we r silly

wierd little things that stick with you

Getting braces is kind of awful.

Especially if you're already an extraordinarily awkward self conscious young teen girl.

I got my braces on a Monday.

I'm sure it was a Monday, because we had dinner at my Grandpa Frank's house, just like EVERY Monday.

Sometimes we ordered pizza, sometimes roast beef sandwiches, but when the vegetable garden was in full swing you could bet your bottom dollar we'd be having what papa Frank clearly considered to be the only correct formula for a meal:

1 meat + 2 vegetables + biscuits + dessert

The favored meat was chicken in gravy- a recipe he'd gotten from a Campbell's soup can and taped to the back of a cabinet, the biscuits were from a can, but always hot out of the oven, dessert: strawberries or Pecan Sandies.

The vegetables were out of the garden- thin sliced fried okra, or cantaloupe, but on this particular night like many others, it was fresh corn on the cob.

I, the posterchild of all moody unhappy teenage girls, declared my teeth hurt and that I wasn't going to eat anything. My mom tried to bend me to her evil evil will of sitting inside and enjoying a delicious dinner with the family, but in the end I escaped to the deck with a book where I read a paperback and sulked about the misery of life and dentistry.

A couple minutes later my Brad brought me out a plate. He could've just brought me a fork and knife, but instead he took the time to cut the corn off the cob so I could eat it without hurting my teeth.

He did that every single time we had corn at a family dinner all 5 years I had braces.

I never had to ask.

Like a thousand other times, he just did what a good dad would do.

Happy Father's Day.

I need a fresh set of drawers.

I wandered the back streets of Queens regularly when I was working as a delivery girl (years ago). One day, after schlepping 5 dozen roses to an elderly Jewish lady in a building where the doorman wouldn't let me use the main elevator, I skulked slowly back to work down some intentionally crooked streets avoiding the boulevard, until I came to the turnpike.

That was when I saw it.

A perfect beautiful antique sewing desk sitting next to crippled Ikea end tables and the other cast offs sitting on the sidewalk waiting for the garbage man.

After work I enlisted Peter's help and we tried our best to load it into the Sunfire.

It was gorgeous, ancient, in perfect condition and there was no possible way to get it home.

Finally, we abandoned the treasure and went home. Only, some of the drawers were still in the trunk.

Beautiful solid wood, tongue-in-groove construction, most likely hand constructed little drawers.

So... I banged them apart.

and painted on them.

and now I need more.

Only, you can't go to Michaels and pick up turn of the century wooden bits.

So, if you see me eyeing the junk on the sidewalk extra hard, it's just cause I'm looking for a fresh set of drawers.

a sartorial post of my very own

I was walking down a busy street in Philadelphia with the Ackerman Medical Squad (Dr Peter and nurse Jamie) when something happened to me that had never happened before:

A gorgeous fashionista walked up to me and said "I LOVE your outfit!"

The thing that makes this story awesome is that everything I was wearing had been dug out of clearance sale racks and altered by yours truly. (Except for the denim jacket. It needed no alterations- it was awesome as is.)

This dress came out in the middle of Winter (cause that's when everyone wants to buy a light as air strappy dress, of course). I tried it on, but beautiful as it was on the hanger, it just did not hang well on a human figure. at all. so I passed.

A few months later when I was digging through the aforementioned clearance pile I decided to make peace with it's awkward draping and pay it's $10 ransom from sale hell.

It hung around for a few days until I woke up and decided that it was finally the day to wear it, so I put it on, and in what is probably the worst idea ever, started cutting first, and measuring none. I cut off the goofy gathered high collar, but kept the fluff of tulle and kind of rolled it down, till it was the same level as the underdress. Next, I put a couple of stitches in the side to make it fit a little better, and sewed the shoulder bows onto the straps. Snip snip snip and done.

add awesome denim jacket

mend the small rip in the super clearance tights

slip on some old cowboy boots

and you have the awesomest outfit ever

(Except maybe my gallery opening outfit, but believe me honey, I payed the piper for that piece of beauty.)

A few weeks later I wore it to a concert and when I was getting a record signed by the band Dawn Flippin Landes asked me where I found my dress!

Jiminy cricket, I never spent $12 on clothes better!

The whole experience has encouraged me to make the alterations I've been thinking about on my other clothes.

Now my motto for all my ill fitting/ old/ paint smeared clothes =

cut it till you love it!

__________________________post edit___________

new link alert in the Blogs I Actually Read list: rugged/refined -a style blog that's actually well written

Treasured

Tonight I opened my e-mail to find my little lambs have been featured in not one, but two treasuries.

Have a look:

Number 1

Number 2