Sad but true…
I’m kinda frustrated with tumblr’s lack of comment support…so I think I’m moving this to snapshotnarrative.wordpress.com come see me there and I’ll still check the rss for tumblr!
Cinco De Mayo!
The weather’s improving and it’s cinco de mayo, which means beer and enhiladas. Can’t wait.
This is Henry. We’re dog sitting for a few days and because he’s slower moving and less prone to Kitty’s dirty tactics (scratching and biting), he got to pose with me for a cinco de mayo greeting card!
Here are the super amazing out-takes. (And I’m not clubbing him, it was supposed to be a “shaking” action, like a party.)
I’m trying something, but I’ll try to be interesting while I do it.
My fiend Lisa keeps complaining my blog doesn’t allow posts for non-tumblr users, so I’m trying something. While I do that, this is an excellent opportunity for me to post photos of the silly dress I couldn’t stop myself from buying at the Brooklyn Flea last week.
Naturally, the moment I got this cupcake home, I knew, beautiful as it is, it’s not for me. At 5 foot 8 I look like a dolup of Cool Whip topped with a pez dispenser.
But, none the less, it is fun, isn’t it? Want it? Best offer.
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Coney Island of the Mind
Because Moses is preparing for a Century that rides from NYC to Montauk (next weekend), he’s been riding his bike as much as possible. This past weekend we rode to Coney Island, which is about 18 miles round-trip. A complete lack of hills makes the ride easy as pie, though sitting on a bike for that long is aways a commitment, and despite my best efforts to sunscreen myself (I burn just thinking about sunshine), I wound up with the tops of my hands burnt.
Despite the sore butt and sunburned hands, the ride was well worth it. I really do love Coney Island, even if it’s the way you love an exhibit at a historical society, which is pretty much the way I think of it. I spent a lot of my time there wistfully wishing the fun in being there was an authentic form of enthusiasm, but Coney Island is clearly a series of artifacts marking a much more simplified era. People don’t take the train there with butterflies in their stomach in anticipation of riding the ferris wheel. Instead children go there as a throw back to something their grandparents once did, and after a few hours of ring toss and rides they get back in their cars in their brightly colored clothes marked with Disney Princesses (or worse, Ed Hardy t-shirts), and return to their Wii.
I’m all for life, improvements and technology, but still. It gives you a little lurch in the stomach to realize Coney Island was once this:
Photograph Courtesy of the Library of Congress
And for whatever reason, this keeps popping up in my life, which is unfortunate because it’s TERRIBLY upsetting. Apparently when there was an electricity race going on in NYC between Edison and Tessla, Edison came up with the idea for the electric chair as an “added bonus” to HIS electricity design (Edison’s design required coal-fed factories be close by to light up any area being a mile or two while Tessla’s model allowed the nasty coal production means to be far, far away and the lights in the city connected by a network). To prove the “effectiveness,” of the electric chair, Edison executed Topsy, a Luna Park/Coney Island domesticated elephant that had killed three people (one of which was her incredibly abusive trainer who tried to feed her a lit cigarette).
Feel free to read all about it here (or not, as it’s seriously the worst thing I’ve heard about in a long time, and yes, I know how silly that might sound to people that aren’t animal weirdos like me, but I’ve had enough drunken arguments with meat-eating frat boys to last me a life time, so please spare me).
My only piece of mind on this is that Luna Park burned down shortly after Edison murdered this poor elephant and filmed it. People referred to the burning as “Topsy’s Revenge.”
Spring, Sprang, Sprung.
Amazingly, my memories from my first time living in New York don’t seem to include too many wintertime experiences. I’m not sure what I was doing all winter long, but I must have stayed inside a lot, or was just so used to cold (having grown up in Missouri), that it didn’t matter? Either way, this winter knocked the wind out of me and I can’t stop thinking about how every SINGLE day is better now, just because it’s warmer.
I walked from our neighborhood to Carroll Gardens/Boerum Hill last week to celebrate finishing a very long paper on the scandal behind the Kennedy Assassination. Ready to rid myself of terrifying visuals, I took some spring photos to brighten up my day.
In LA I learned to quickly pick small bits of flowers from “private collections.” While that sounds like a jerk move, I’m very careful to take them from unobtrusive places (as an avid gardener myself, I would never take something singular like a rose or tulip—only bits from plentiful blooms like lilacs, dogwoods or wild flowers).
Carnations! You’re gonna love ‘em in an instant.
It’s Spring. Finally. To celebrate I bought myself some new vases and filled them with carnations. A total fresh-flowers junkie, carnations are my new fav for several reasons:
1. Super cheap
2. Way longer lifespan than most flowers
3. You can eat ‘em. See below
Carnation cupcakes! For our friend Sean’s birthday I volunteered to make some cupcakes. I have an aversion to typical frosting. I like ganaches, but to use a pastry bag seems passe and over-the-top, and to use a simple knife never looks quite right to me, either. So this time I researched some “edible” flowers, which is the most natural, gorgeous cake topper by far, and candied some carnations. Spring cupcakes.
But, of course, no cupcake is complete with out good old-fashioned chocolate, chocolate, chocolate.
Sean’s birthday consisted of Southern style cooking at a place in williamsburg called Mabels, which had a totally awesome plate on the bathroom wall that doubled as a map for my home state, Missouri. There’s something very comforting to know that the Missourian tweaks to places with otherwise worldly names.
Do it…Dress Up the Cruise family. You know want to.
This is real, and if you’re so inclined, you can play this…here, which is, of couse, a slippery slope because it’s hard to not admit this is just taboo…
Photo from suricruisefashionblog.
I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this, mostly because it’s pretty silly and I try to avoid it, but I have a weird appreciation for Suri (bottles, pacifiers and all). I think because at some level a super girly-girl little girl is my dream, and she’s right on the money. A built in shopping partner who scowls at the camera like a champ and eats sweets all day a la Veruca Salt (not saying Suri’s bratty because how in the world would I know? I just like to look at photos of her being awesome).
I couldn’t care less about Tom Cruise, and in fact, find him a little icky. Katie’s thought provoking in that “I don’t get it” kinda way (I’m reading “Never Let me Go, which is all about clones, and I can’t help but wonder if there are some parallels), but Suri. She’s a kid, which means I’d naturally like her WAY better than any adult, and she’s just really cute.
So, I’m always a little on the fence about the comments on how sad it is she’s so photographed. It IS sad she has to grow up like that, since she’s usually looking pretty over the cameras. BUT, she’s also the ONLY reason I pick up a Star Magazine or read squat about the TomKat thing.
I’ve been reading this totally non-official and borderline creepy blog on an off for about six months, which I know makes me creepy by association. But in my defense, I really DO like kids more than grownups, usually (just ask Moses. We spend half our time out talking about cute kids and dogs—he will deny this to a degree, but he plays along). But, I do have to say, I’m going to retire my views now that I’m admitting to it, because I just watched a video clip that ruined it all for me…you can hear all the cameras clicking while she goes to a petting zoo…not much fun, I’m sure.
M is for Mexican.
Since moving to New York we’ve been mourning for good Mexican food. There’s a place close by, Chavella’s which is good, but lacks some of the stress-free ambiance I love about most about laid-back Mexican cuisine (the space is very crowded and the drink menu is far from extensive—but I just read they’re moving to a new, bigger spot and applying for full liquor license. In the event these dreams come to pass, Chavella’s will be 40 seats with a full bar, which would be amazing and fulfill even my wildest Mexican restaurant dreams).
In the meantime, while I await a margarita on the rocks with no salt and not having to move my chair so someone can get to the bathroom; I make Mexican on my own. This usually works out well, since I had the world’s BEST teacher in LA (Moses’ mom!) and find myself pretty capable of pulling together some pretty good Mexican digs.
My perhaps favorite aspect of Mexican food is how surprisingly easy it is to make the food totally vegan (very few of the sauces have anything more than chicken stalk, which can easily be replaced with veggie stalk and some extra salt or Bragg’s). The chips are fried in oil (veggie or olive, which is what I use because I have it) and the sauces can be thickened with anything from crackers to coconut milk.
This weekend I made a Roasted Corn and Black Bean Kale Salad with Mole (using a few bars of dark chocolate, so not vegan completely this time) over Chiliquilles.
Mole:
1 Pascilla Chili
1 Ancho Chili
1 Serrano Chili
2 Cloves Garlic
1/2 Tomato
1 Small can tomato paste
2 Table Spoons Coconut Milk
1/2 Full-sized bar of good quality dark chocolate
Roast all the peppers, garlic and tomato half in a non-oiled skillet until the skin gets black and crusty in places. Cut off the stems of the chilis with scissors and dump out as many of the seeds as you can, then cut into strips (garlic can be left intact or cut in halfs) and put into a medium-sized bowl with boiling water on top (about a cup).
Let seep for 10 minutes, then put in food processor with tomato paste (and the chili infused water) until smooth-ish.
Poor pureed materials in a pan and over medium heat add coconut milk and chocolate. Add more coconut milk if it’s too heaty, and a little agave makes it extra good.
And, since I didn’t post yesterday, here’s a double whammy. I’ve been trying to do something with my hair. It’s been an ordeal, because I’m growing out my bangs and they’re driving me NUTS, so I usually braid it back or braid it around…but it feels like I ought to try something loose, too…so here’s my take on bringing back the 80s…Inspired by Anne Hathaway’s totally rad curls in Sex and Other Drugs:
Mine aren’t nearly so…well-formed…but, that’s life verses Hollywood.
Two quick points: First, I included this second shot only because I never knew I COULD raise my eyebrow like that and had no idea I was doing it, which was pretty fun—so fun, in fact, it made me overcome my camera shy-ness to show it off.
And two: It was INCREDIBLY difficult to find UN-Naked photos of Anne Hathaway from Sex and Other Drugs, because she’s naked in over 75% of the movie. Moses usually just calls her “the girl that shows her boobs.” Remembering back to the Princess Diaries, who would have ever thought that would be a potential nickname for her? What would Julie Andrews think!?
Missouri Simplicity, Remember the 80s and Etam’s Uprising
Baby photos. While working on a project for school yesterday I went through my box of unsorted things—photos, invitations, holiday cards and passports. (I was looking for a few “kid” drawings) and had to work to bypass looking through my own baby pictures.
While most of them are in Missouri with my mom, I have a handful. I love all the colors of old photographs, but I also love the simplicity in general. I spent a lot of time outdoors and barefoot. I also wore my brother’s hand-me-downs and looked like a little boy until I was about 8 and started having sleep-overs and picking up on little girl things via osmosis.
Other things I love today:
Oh remember Marky Mark before he became classy and Kate Moss before she grew her eyebrows in? And those high-cut panties. My word those look uncomfortably Jessie Spano-like.
And last but not least, the Cherry Blossom Girl, who I sometimes like, sometimes have reservations about her makeup choices; is the new face of Etam undergarments. She totally looks great in her underpants. Way to go Alix.
I love the French boudoir theme and flower patterns. Might have to check out Etam online. I bought a pair of wool pants there when I was in school in Paris. They were dark purple, flat-fronted and very edgy, I thought, at the time. Wonder where they are now…
Where the desert meets the snow.
Palm Springs. Sort of a Wonderland, Oz and Neverland for adults (but less technicolor than Vegas). The perfect driving distance from LA, Palm Springs features weather that’s always just a little bit hotter than LA as well as the cosmic mix of snow capped mountains and a dry, arid desert.
The cherry on top is the awesome architecture. A trip to Palm Springs means a swimming pool, lots of beers and hot car rides to take pictures of all the amazing homes.
I’m cheating because my days have become quite hectic and I didn’t have time for new photos today—these are from Mandy’s birthday soiree last year. She rented a lovely house and we all crashed there, which made for an amazing weekend.
It’s raining in New York. Again. I wish I was in Palm Springs.
Cats Reading and Cat’s Supervising.
Art by Yoko Tanji
I’ve been working on a new children’s book. Because I’m spending so much time at school (I’m getting my master’s in Library Science just in case somebody doesn’t know that), the information I’m taught on a daily basis is seeping in. So, my book is turning out to be a mystery about a library with a 11 year-old girl as the heroine. Louisa is looking for a librarian who’s gone missing from the New York Public Library…
Anyway, my friend Christine (of everythingblog) this to me yesterday and it reminded me of Louisa…and me and Kitty Viv, because we like to read together.
And while I get my story cogs going, here’s a few other fun things:
At dinner last night my friend Allison showed us a new/old baby dress someone had re-gifted her for her baby. Unfortunately for this dress but fortunately for us all, Finn is a boy and probably won’t be wearing a dress (even an adorable one with a deer on the front…well, maybe just once to see what it looks like), but this is the awesome tag. ”Cat supervised,” people.
Last but not least, sometimes Anthropologie sometimes frustrates me because of prices and/or one too many doo-dads; but I think they got swimsuits JUST right this time around.
(Borrowed from whowhatwear)
Now I’m going to enjoy the rain storm (Kitty Viv is hiding in the inner-most deep of our closet) and have some dinner.
Fast Forward.
The weekend goes so quickly, just like summer and spring and, quite frankly, everything but the winter this year. When I was little I thought summer and school year were equal. I suppose that says something about a child’s perspective on the passing of time.
Summer was absolutely the greatest when I was a kid. I went to bed when it was still light outside and would lay there listening to the older kids, my brother among them, play out in the field across from our house. Since most of the older kids were boys, they played a lot of baseball.
My mother likes to tell the story of how I got up once, (probably more than once) after she’d put me to bed and “walked” myself to the park. A neighbor found me swinging in my nightgown alone with no shoes. I got a spanking, another bath and put back to bed. I was three.
But, while summer isn’t upon us just yet, it’s got to be close. Saturday was jacket weather and we went on a nice, long run (to counter act the pasta from Friday night), and Saturday night we went dancing, which is really, really rare for us—but fun, nonetheless. Sunday we did our usual Chelsea Market and Highline walk, but it was made even better because Nate and Lisa came and we stopped and had a beer at the Standard’s Beer Garden.
So, while it isn’t summer, we’re getting ready for it. And once it’s here, I’m going to live in Prospect Park. But, this time I’ll wear shoes. I promise.
Kitty Viv on the new/old bench we got (found) in our neighborhood streets. The best kind of find.
Our first “summer-ish” sunset. We stood out in the street after dinner taking photos.
Moses and Nate at the Standard Beer Garden.
Carrying our Sunday night groceries on the Highline.
shoes with no socks!
Wedding Gowns Round 1
Wedding Dresses. This is going to be tough. Moses asked me to post all the images I liked together for him, so this post will serve that purpose, since I’m doubting anybody will be super interested.
On a side note, Moses wants to register at REI, the sports store. Hopefully only Moses’ friends will do that, because I’d rather have money or things for the house. Camping equipment takes a backseat to towels.
1. A simple number from JCrew, which if I gave a wedding much thought as a kid (it as all about being married instead and never the actual event, which is proving to make things quite difficult now) would be the dress I’d have chosen. My mother’s wedding dress was a very 1960’s number that seemed silly when looked at photos and I vowed I’d do something very simple.
2. One of my favorite long-time fashion blogs featured her wedding dress, a gown she designed and had LMH Bridal make for her. I think it captures my inner ballerina…And Moses took one look and said “too white swan.”
3. My favorite is the last—from Anthropologie’s new wedding site BHLDN, and ringing in at a price that was more than my first car. But, while I could take or leave the butterflies, it’s the actual fit of the dress and the fabric. It seems special enough to get married in without being insanely embellished, which can happen with Anthro sometimes.
