pants.

Although, regrettably, I am so incredibly super-duper swamped with everything that accompanies moving from one state to another, and ending my time at one job to begin at a new one, and still doing my job for another three weeks, which means completing this big huge project that’s due by the end of this week, I wanted to take a moment to share this guy:

because he’s just so damn cute.

I cannot wait for this chaos to calm down, because I have a feeling I’m going to have so much to write about.

an assessment of personal style.

So one thing that’s heavy on my mind at the moment is the excitement of having a brand-new place to decorate once I move.  I know my budget will be tight at first, but since I’ve been in the same apartment for the two and a half years I’ve lived in Houston, I’m really quite ready for a change in decor. 

Obviously I can’t start planning that until I know where I’m going to be living, but I can still think about it.  I’m excited about the prospect of buying my own furniture and decorating a space to fit my own (well, and my boyfriend’s) personal style.  Thanks to Lindsay May, I found a great way to find out what that personal style is, and get a few ideas.  Take this quiz on Sproost to find out your “decorating style”.

The quiz told me that my style is 50% Vintage Modern, which is great for mixing different styles of furniture and using eclectic Flea Market finds and family hand-me-downs to add character to a room. 

Though the backdrop of the room, the walls and windows, are many times white or monochromatic, the furniture and accessories have the color, shape and texture to bring the warmth into the space.

Vintage Modern design includes styles similar to these:

And my style is also 50% Modern Elegance, which is a “Transitional Style,” bringing together the contradicting styles of traditional and contemporary design.  It includes styles similar to these:

I have to say that I pretty much adore all six of these pictures, or at least particular points in all of them.  I love the mix of modern, contemporary designs with old-school flair.  I tend to be a flea-market shopper, especially when it comes to furniture — almost every piece of furniture I currently own came from either a yard sale or flea market, and I love the character that comes with them.  The contrast between these items and contemporary pieces, especially artwork, helps to create a room that matches my character.  I’m also a big fan of wall decals, like the big brown tree in the second-to-last picture.  I love the clean lines they provide as artwork, while still adding a visual punch to the space.

Also, I was pretty excited to see the “Keep Calm & Carry On” poster in the second picture — I have that poster in orange hanging on my living room wall.  Score!

So all in all, I’m impressed with how accurately the folks at Sproost described my personal taste, and I’m excited to use these pictures for ideas and inspiration once I get my new place.  IKEA, Crate&Barrel, and Portland flea markets, here I come!

*All photos courtesy of Sproost.com

snOMG.

This past weekend, Central Virginia got slammed with its second balls-out blast of snow this winter.  Snow like this typically only happens once every few years, so to have it happen twice in one winter, only a month apart, is very unusual.  Of course, since that furry little bastard saw his shadow today, they should probably go ahead and prep for the next round of winter WTF-ery.

The first snow came just a week before Christmas, and it blanketed my parents’ house in over a foot of flaky white powder.  They sent me pictures via text message every few hours so that I could see the accumulation all the way in Texas (where I was rockin’ 70 degree weather), and I kept my fingers crossed that some of the snow would still be there when I flew into town two days before Christmas.  Sure enough, my plane landed and there was white stuff everywhere.  At that point, it wasn’t very pretty, having been lying around for four days and salted, sanded, and driven on, but it was still white on Christmas and that’s all that matters.  I had my first White Christmas in probably about ten years.  Then on Christmas night, it rained, and the next morning the snow was gone.

When the weather forecast started looking snowy last week, I was skeptical.  No way does this happen twice in one year.  No way.  Oh but it did.  My parents decided to forego the usual trip to the grocery store to stock up on bread and milk and other non-perishables (the way most Richmonders do whenever the word “accumulation” is mentioned) in favor of a trip to the Krispy Kreme store.

bread and milk? no thanks, we'll just need donuts.

And so sometime Friday evening, Snowpocalypse 2 began.  Once again, they sent me pictures to document the occasion, and in the morning (in the middle of my battle with Swahili Death Flu, part deux) I got a picture of their front yard covered in another foot of snow. 

Now for those of you who live up North (or someplace else) where it actually snows like this on a regular basis, you’re probably thinking that it’s ridiculous that a foot of snow is even anything worth getting your panties in a twist over.  First of all, unless you happen to be female, we need to discuss why you’re even wearing panties.  Later.  Second, you need to understand that Virginia doesn’t (usually) get snow like this very often, so the people as a whole are rather ill-prepared for it, and it seems to instigate all sorts of irrational behavior.  It’s a lot like the way people in Houston drive whenever it’s not clear and sunny — AS IF THE WORLD IS ENDING OMG FREAKOUT.

Two days before the snow started, Richmond.com ran a story that perfectly sums up Richmond’s reaction to a snow forecast.  Here’s a taste:

In case you’re new to Richmond, let me tell you how we do it here.

Someone somewhere says snow is coming to Central Virginia.
• We Richmonders start paying attention.
• Someone says it’s coming to Richmond.
• We Richmonders really start paying attention. Someone brandishes the word “accumulation.”

Done. Finished. Over. We who call Richmond home all-out lose our minds.

And then they go on to describe — in perfect, hilarious detail — the day-by-day course of action for a typical Richmonder when anticipating snowfall.  Take this, multiply it by 1000 units of ridiculous, and you get the reaction of typical Houstonian whenever there’s talk of snow.  Just sayin’.  I’VE SEEN IT.

Back when we used to get real winter every year, and not just randomly (& freakishly) every few years, I would spend full days out in the snow playing with the other neighborhood kids.  We’d make snowmen, ride sleds down the drop-off in our backyard (in the middle of the woods — I’ll never forget the time my cousin had the great misfortune of straddling a tree mid-way down), we’d “ice skate” on the frozen pond (& yes, we’d fall in), and we’d eat icicles.  Now that I’m a grown-up and somewhat sensible about these things, I know that’s probably one of the most disgusting things I ever did as a child, but when my mom sent me a picture of the king-sized icicles hanging from their house all I could think was, OMG I WANT TO EAT ONE. 

where i freak out and use a lot of CAPITAL LETTERS.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been loosely making preparations for my upcoming move to Portland.  I say “loosely” because I’ve felt like there was only so much I could do until I found a place to live, so I made the arrangements for that effort and have been looking around online to compile a list of places to check out when the boyfriend and I go a-searchin’.  I figured that once I knew what kind of living space we were dealing with, I’d know what we could take and what we should leave behind.  And once we had that information, we could start posting and selling stuff on Craigslist, pawning it off on our friends, donating it to Goodwill, and then make arrangements for how we’re even going to get the rest of it there.

However, today I realized, HOLY SHIT I’M MOVING IN FOUR WEEKS.  As in 28 days.  As in actually less than that.  Let’s say 26 days.  THAT’S NOT A LOT OF TIME for me to get my shit together.  Enter freak-out mode.

So today I’ve started making all sorts of arrangements.  I have an appointment at Carmax to get an appraisal for my car (single biggest item I can unload and get cash for the Moving Fund).  I may or may not sell it to Carmax (I’m also going to post it up on the Craigslist) but at least I’ll know what I can get for it in a pinch.  Then boyfriend and I are getting pen and paper and taking full inventory of our furniture and other items, and checking off what we know for sure we’ll be taking with us.  That way, I can go ahead and make an appointment for a moving company to come out and give us an estimate.  Then we’ll compare that estimate to the approximate cost of renting a truck and doing it ourselves, which right now is looking EFFING RIDICULOUS.  In our Cost-Benefit Analysis, we’ll include the pros and cons of carting our own stuff and towing boyfriend’s car, compared to freely driving just a car and having to worry about where our stuff is, who has it, whether or not it will be where we need it when we need it to be there, and just how much it’s actually going to end up costing us.  Because based on horror stories I’ve heard from friends, YOU JUST NEVER KNOW. 

At least this way, I can get all the groundwork done and then, when we have all the applicable information, we can match it up with the “If This Happens” scenario and have a game plan already drawn up.  Or at least that’s the way I see it in my head.  Everyone knows nothing works out that well, and I’m well aware that this move is going to be more chaotic than organized, no matter how hard I try, but frantically planning makes me feel better (somehow).

In the meantime, does anyone have any good tips for moving out of state?  If you were in this situation, what are some things you would do to make it happen more efficiently?  Any tips for driving long distances with a high-anxiety dog? 

If you have any horror stories related to using a moving company or renting a truck and doing it yourself, I’m particularly interested in those. 

HELP!  Ok, deep breaths…

swahili death flu, part deux.

Remember that case of Swahili Death Flu from a couple weeks ago?  The one that had me curled up on the couch, whining like a baby about how miserable I was?  Yeah, that was nothing.

At about 2 a.m. this morning, I got sick.  Yes, I had been out drinking.  Yes, perhaps too heavily.  But by 2 p.m. this afternoon, when I had gotten sick repeatedly, at least two to three times an hour in fact, I started to realize that there had to be something more to this.  I have never been so sick from drinking, ever.  And I hadn’t had enough to drink to make me that sick, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing irresponsible.

The only other time that I can remember being this particular brand of sick was just over a year ago, when I was sick for about the same amount of time in the same kind of way.  My friend Laurie knows what I’m talking about.  She and I had planned to throw a Festivus of sorts for our friends, to celebrate both Christmas and Hanukkah, and she ended up having to do all the work because I could barely get out of bed.  Luckily, I was feeling human again just in time for the party to start, but boy was that a rough day.

I think today was worse.  It was even possibly worse than that and the original Swahili Death Flu combined.  Now that I’ve managed to get out of bed, shower, and keep down some food, I can slowly start to feel normal again.  Here’s the big thing though.

Today I was supposed to go to my good friend Nikki’s birthday party.  We were going to the St. Arnold’s Brewery Tour, bringing pizza and cupcakes along, and then going out for Mexican food afterwards.  Guess who made the cupcakes.  And then I was too sick to even go, and now I’ve got all these cupcakes in my kitchen.  But I can’t exactly hand them out like, “oh heyyyy, here are some cupcakes I made and decorated in between frantic dashes to the bathroom (or, in one unlucky instance, the kitchen sink), YOU SHOULD EAT ONE.”  So they’re going to go to waste, because no one can eat them… except for maybe me.

So glad I’m feeling better.

the mission.

If you look at the top of my page, you’ll notice that I’ve added a new tab, “the mission.”  Click it.  Read it.  Come back to it.  This is going to be exciting stuff!

on music and feelings.

One major aspect of my personality that has somehow thus far managed to elude capture on this blog is the music.  I don’t even know how it hasn’t been THE major thing, much less how I’ve managed to go almost three months without even having a single post about music.

Music has always been a huge part of my life, but that’s a story for another post.  I’m not sure I have what it takes to do it justice at the moment.  But the important part for here and now is the fact that, no matter what kind of mood I’m in, I can always find a song in my iTunes library to fit.  Whether it’s an upbeat song to cheer me up, a dance tune when I’m full of energy, or a heart-wrenching tearjerker of a song for when I just need to cry or think or feel something, music can always give me what I need.  And with 4,064 items — 11.3 days of music — in my iTunes library, I usually don’t have to look far.

The best way for me to decide what to listen to in most cases is to let iTunes do the work for me.  I’ll put the entire library on ’shuffle’ and hit play, just to see what I get.  Sometimes it’s “A Charlie Brown Christmas” in August, sometimes it’s a tune from the ridiculously (& embarrassingly) extensive collection of 311 that exists in my library (oh college), but sometimes, it’s SPOT ON PERFECT.  I’ll come across a song I never even knew I had, or something I had completely forgotten about.

About a month ago, my library shuffled to a song that I may have heard before, but I’ll never really know.  All I know is that it caught me by surprise, the way it made me feel.  The sadness and loneliness and longing in the song was so palpable that I put it on ‘repeat’ and listened to it probably about fifteen times.  And I still keep coming back to it.  And then, it showed up in the trailer for what looks like the most gut-wrenchingly sad movie in ages.  By now, I’m sure you’ve all seen the trailer for Dear John, heard the song, and maybe even felt that very real pain.

I’m not in a long-distance relationship (thankfully).  I’ve been in them before, when I thought I was in love, and I know that was miserable.  I’m lucky enough to have the one that I love most here with me every day, sitting next to me right now as I type this, sleeping next to me every night.  I can only imagine what it would be like to have him on the other side of the world, in a war zone, not knowing what may happen, and my heart goes out to every woman, man, and child who deals with this EVERY SINGLE DAY.  But this song makes me feel what the pain of that distance must be like, or at least gives me an idea of it.

I’ve never been a huge fan of Snow Patrol, but not because they don’t write good music.  They do.  They’re just not a band I’ve ever been really excited about.  However, I am (& hopefully always will be) a HUGE fan of the Wainwrights.  Both Rufus and Martha Wainwright have that perfect sadness in their voices.  I remember the first song I heard Rufus Wainwright sing, and it wasn’t a song he wrote, but it was a cover of the Leonard Cohen song, “Hallelujah”, and it was on the Shrek soundtrack.  That was another song that I played on ‘repeat’ for ages.  The same song was also covered by Jeff Buckley, and a lot of people will say that was the best version of the song, but I disagree.  Something about the way Rufus Wainwright sings that song…  To me, that’s what music should be — it shouldn’t be just a generic sound, it should make you feel something… even if it’s poppy dance music and what it makes you feel is an overwhelming desire to shake what your momma gave ya. 

Other songs and/or artists which stir me up inside include:

• “Whiskey Lullaby” by Brad Paisley & Allison Krauss
• anything by Damien Rice, but particularly “9 Crimes”
• “Almost Lover” by A Fine Frenzy
• “My Little Girl” by Tim McGraw (not necessarily because it has that passion, but because of my Dad it gets me EVERY SINGLE TIME WITHOUT FAIL)
• Iron & Wine

Because of my overall mood for the past few days, I’m thinking of only sad songs at the moment.  But if I think of others I want to include over the next few days as I’m feeling better, I’ll come back and add them.

So now it’s your turn.  What songs make you really feel something, whether it’s sadness, or happiness, pain, joy, or hope?

confession.

For the past few days, I’ve had a hard time motivating myself to do anything at all, especially trying to focus long enough on one topic to write.  Since Friday afternoon, I’ve been in a funk.  Not because of anything specific, just a funk.  It happens from time to time.  I’ll be going along, doing fine, and then suddenly BAM!   Funk.

It’s hard to describe, other than to say that it’s just sadness.  Lack of desire to do anything.  Inability to be excited, even with all the exciting things going on in my life right now.  Zero energy.  It’s like a rain cloud that’s only around me, no one else.  Beautiful, sunny, warm weather has no effect on my mood, because to me, it’s still cloudy.

The worst part about it is that there’s never any real reason for it.  I know completely well that I have no reason to be sad or down about anything at all, but still I can’t help it.  I spend most of my day fighting tears.  The only way that I can keep them back is by making a conscious effort to think about something positive, to try to push the negativity out of my mind, and it’s so much WORK.  It’s a constant, continuous effort, all day long, trying not to let the sadness take over my whole day.  By the time night rolls around, I’m worn out.  I stare into space, not even watching TV because I can’t even muster the energy for that by then.

These spells of depression come around every couple of months or so.  Sometimes it lasts for two or three days, and sometimes it lasts for over a month.  I can always tell when it’s about to start, because I’ll feel myself starting to think about things differently.  I’ll start feeling tension build up in my neck and the back of my head, and then one day something completely trivial and insignificant will just make me snap.  And knowing that I’ve already lost control just makes it worse.

I usually can’t explain how I feel to anyone, mainly because the moment I try, the tears get in the way.  So I just have to deal with being sad, deal with wearing myself down day after day trying not to let it take over, deal with not knowing when I’m going to snap out of it.  Because that’s how it ends.  There’s no trick, not that I can figure out.  One day, I just snap out of it.  And then I’m fine… until the next spell starts.  And I know it’s only a matter of time until the next spell starts.

Luckily, this spell didn’t last long.  Today I feel much better.  I don’t know what made me snap out of it, but I do know that last night I had some time to myself, some time to talk to JT and try my very best to explain to him everything that was on my mind, some time to snuggle, and then I had some chocolate ice cream.  Blue Bell Rocky Road to be exact.  And let me tell you, if THAT doesn’t make you feel better, nothing will.

oregon trail.

A few weeks ago, I went to Portland, OR for two days for work.  I promised I would tell you more about it once I recovered from my jet-lag and Swahili Death Flu, and since I seem to be doing much better (and have more information) it’s time to share.

I flew to Portland for a job interview.  It’s for the same position in the same company, just (obviously) in a different office.  Actually, it seems like it’s in a different world.  Houston is hot, flat, and crowded.  Portland is temperate, mountainous, and absolutely beautiful, even when it’s raining.

I spent the two days I was there riding around in a car with the woman who would be my boss if I got the job.  We did a lot of work-related stuff, but she spent most of the time showing me around the city.  One of the first things we did was drive about 20 minutes or so outside the city to Multnomah Falls.  First of all, let me tell you that if you’ve never been to the Pacific Northwest, GO THERE.  NOW.  It’s beautiful.  Driving along Interstate 84 through the Columbia River Gorge was the most scenic drive I’ve been on since some point in college, when I was surrounded by mountains and rivers all the time and therefore didn’t know how to fully appreciate them.  When you get to Multnomah Falls, you literally just pull off the highway into a parking lot, walk under a tunnel, and there are the falls.  You can see it from the highway, but walking up closer to it so that you can feel the spray coming off the cliff makes it absolutely breathtaking.

After that, we drove around through a couple of different neighborhoods that the boyfriend and I had looked at living in, then parked to get out and walk along Hawthorne, one of the main streets of the Southeast part of town.  (Look at me trying to sound like I know what I’m talking about when it comes to Portland neighborhoods).  Eventually we stopped for lunch at the Bridgeport Ale House, where I had a steaming bowl of macaroni & cheese (topped with crumbled kettle chips, perfect!) with a side of delicious green salad.  This was probably second on my list of Best Mac’n'Cheese Ever, with the first place prize going to a dish at a local seafood house in Port Aransas, TX (too bad I don’t even remember the name of the place).

That afternoon we headed to the office for my actual interview, which went really well considering the fact that, when you adjust for time zone differences, I had basically been up since 1:30 am.  After the interview, the other boss joined us to go out for dinner, where we split a bottle of wine from a vineyard about 15 miles from his house.  Oregon, we’re going to get along just fine.

When I got to the hotel at about 7:15 pm, it was all I could do to shower and call my mom, then my boyfriend before I PASSED THE FUCK OUT.  I was asleep by 8:30, and it was quite possibly the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages.

On Day Two, we pretty much spent the entire morning driving through the suburbs near my hotel until traffic died down, then headed to the Northwest part of town — where I fell in love, and if I can find a good place for a reasonable price, I want it.  It’s more urban than what I had seen the day before, with older historic buildings mixed with some modern ones, and a very eclectic group of shops, boutiques, restaurants and bars.  People were walking around, riding bicycles, and enjoying being outside, even though it was raining.  I guess you just learn to ignore the rain.

So as you can probably guess, the interview went well — I found out yesterday that I got the job.  I’ll be finishing up in the Houston office on February 26th, taking a week off to move and starting in the Portland office on March 8th.  I’m unbelievably excited, but also (understandably) a little bit panicked.  I can’t wait for the challenges and experiences that Portland will bring — a different office environment, a new living environment, a place where I can do things outside not only because there are actually outdoors-y things to do, but because the summers aren’t so miserably hot that you can’t leave your house without immediately suffering heat stroke.  I’m looking forward to farmer’s markets, dog parks, bike trails, brewery tours, and perhaps most of all, trading in concrete for roses.  After all, Portland is the City of Roses.

So it’s time for boyfriend and I to load up the covered wagon, prepare the oxen, stop by the General Store for supplies, and hope we don’t die of dysentery or typhoid fever while hunting bison or trying to ford the river.  Let the Oregon Trail jokes begin!

cupcake SMACKDOWN.

This Sunday, my three best girlfriends and I are going to engage in all manner of cupcakery at this wondrous event:

Thank you, HoustonPress, for not only giving me an excuse to stuff my face with my favorite food IN THE ENTIRE WORLD, but for also providing inspiration for my own cupcake adventures at home.

Here’s a well-known fact about me:  I LOVE CUPCAKES. I adore cupcakes.  I CRAVE cupcakes.  Constantly.  I can’t say no to them.  I was cupcake before cupcake was cool.  But here’s the thing:  I generally dislike boutique cupcakes.  It’s true.  They focus too much on “cutesy” and not enough on “tasty”.  They tend to be dry and the icing too sweet.  I like the homemade kind, even if it does come from a box.  They’re moist, fluffy, wonderful bites of perfection, topped with sugary-sweet icing and whatever kind of decoration you can think up.

Perhaps my favorite part of this Cupcake Smackdown, though, is the fact that they opened up the judging to two of their readers.  How cool is that?!?!  All you had to do was make a comment on the blog post, and the two best commenters got picked to judge alongside two local pastry chefs.  OH yeah, you’re damn right I entered.  And personally, I think I should have won (but obviously that’s because I’m biased, and because I really wanted all those cupcakes).  I mean, I WROTE A CUPCAKE HAIKU FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.

fluffy cake bottom
sweet icing, sprinkles on top
omfg, WANT.

But whatevs, I’ll go with my friends and eat cupcakes with no pressure to sound like I even know what I’m talking about (aside from classifying each cupcake as “tasty” and “tastier” because really, is there such a thing as a bad cupcake?!  Probably, but even a bad cupcake has got to be good on some level).

This is going to be the cutest, sweetest smackdown ever invented.