Etsy: Getting Crafty

I know many of you are already ardent Etsy fans, but I’m only a recent acolyte so forgive me.  When my brother’s sister’s girlfriend’s almost-sister-in-law, Duncan told me about it, it took me a while before I found the time to search it through.  When I finally did, boy was I shocked.  Duncan, who is incredibly artistic, told me to hold onto my trousers when I looked and she was right.  The majority of the crafts-people who sell their handmade creations on this website, do so at an alarmingly agreeable rate.

Affordable?  Yes.  Dangerous?  Also yes because I want to buy and buy and buy!

One of my other favorite parts of Etsy is their vintage section.  I love vintage and while Ebay totally overwhelms me, Etsy seems manageable and friendly.  Take these candlesticks for instance.  I’ve been looking for silver candlesticks and while these $37 holders from FutureLeader78 are slightly out of my budget, I think they’d be at least twice that on Ebay.

And okay, this sailorman boutonniere isn’t vintage, but how cute is it?!  You’re not a sailor, you say?  Not a problem.  Fritts Rosenow has a boutonniere theme for everyone.

Pearl necklaces, oil paintings, garden sculptures, kitchen aprons…the list of what Etsy offers is endless.  Best yet, the prices can’t be beat and the sellers seem happy to put their art out there.  All in all, I give Etsy an A+.

Wacked Out Murdering Mistress

Now I don’t watch sports so before July 5th I had never heard of Steve McNair or the Tennessee Titans.  And why they would ever want to call themselves the Tennessee Titan Team is beyond me; such a tongue twister.  I do know however, that the story of his unnecessary death has me spellbound.

For those of you who aren’t sports fans, Steve McNair played football and from his 3 All-Star awards and an MVP pick in 2003, I guess he was pretty good.  But eventually the game ended and Steve went on to do…well, I don’t know what he did except that it involved a woman named Sahel Kazemi.  The father of four met Kazemi about 6 months ago in a sports bar called Dave and Buster’s where she waitressed. They began dating.

We all know that in daing terms, 6 months is still pretty new.  You know the person, but you don’t know the person.  At 6 months, the ‘I’m perfect-you’re perfect-and we’re going to live happily ever after’ is just beginning to wear off.  For most of us this means a re-evalution, a break, maybe even a break-up, but never a “I better not take a nap because he/she might kill me.”  Kazemi missed the memo.

Sahel Kazemi bought a gun in the parking lot of her restaurant, Dave and Buster’s and then waited.  On July 4th, McNair was asleep on the sofa when Kazemi used said gun to shoot him in the head.  Then twice in the chest.  Then once again in the head for good measure.  And then the wacked out murdering mistress lied down next to the corpse and shot herself.

Some reports say she heard McNair had another girlfriend.  Another states that Kazemi was stressed about 2 car payments (why did she need 2 cars?) and not being able to pay her rent.  Her roommate was moving out (probably because she was cra-zy) and she was going to be stuck with both halves.  Note to Kazemi: find another roommate or move to a cheaper place by yourself.  People do it all the time.  Still other reports say that she was a wonderful, strong, hard-working young woman who had gotten in too deep with a player and that this is more his fault than hers.  Regardless, (and toxicology reports are still pending) I think we can all agree that murdering your boyfriend while he’s taking a nap is just plain old nuts.

So for those of you out there who are at the 6 month mark…I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you.  Or take your naps at home.  Alone.  With the door locked.

Naked and Flying High

Have you seen it yet?  Air New Zealand has come up with a fantastic idea for getting people to pay attention during the safety lesson; nudity!  That’s right, the captain and crew strip down to tell us all about seatback trays and oxygen masks, with a little more skin on display than usual .  And even though I know the safety speech almost verbatim, I found myself following along if no other reason than to get a glimpse of something saucy.  Happily, I was rewarded by the end.

The moral of the story is that we all love to see a little bare flesh; fat or skinny, it enthralls us.  Science and history teachers everywhere take note.  If you’re tired of students not paying attention and falling asleep during your lectures, you might want to try strip teaching.  For every important point, formula or historical date take off a piece of clothing.  Trust me, they’ll pay attention when you’re up there in your skivvies no matter what you’re droning on about.

Disclaimer: School board might find strip-teaching ‘alarming.’

W…e…d…d…i…n…g…

I know, I know.  I promised I’d never mention the ‘W’ word again, but as my life is inundated with ‘W’ chores, I feel that I must.  Otherwise, I’d truly have nothing to write about.  So in the hopes of brevity, I’d like to share a few of my finds:

1. Junebug Weddings Cute, cute, and cute!  Like Project Wedding, but not as vast.
2. Yvette Roman Wedding photography that leaves a lasting impression.  No stiff shots here.
3. Tom Binns His Couture necklaces (especially ‘Candy’ – I crave Candy) are like a fantasy come true.
4. Sugar Paper One stop shopping for top-shelf invitations and note cards.
5. Style Me Pretty Weddings for those couples whose idea of a celebration lies slightly outside of the ‘traditional’ box.
6. Smock Paper Here’s just one of the reasons why I chose them for my wedding invitations:  “Sustainably printed on bamboo paper in upstate New York. We are serious about being a truly green letterpress print shop. We are powered by wind energy. We donate 1% of sales to environmental causes through 1% for the Planet. Our retail packaging is tree-free and petroleum free and certified biodegradable. For our employees, we subsidize 20-week Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) memberships with a local organic farm.”
7. Martha Stewart Weddings Sneer all you want, but her crafty ideas for those of us who like to get creative, are quite excellent.

The Dog Beach

My friend Patrick called me the other day to tell me that older women have been confusing him with Robert Redford. I told him I could see how that could happen.  As soon as he mentioned it I saw the resemblance.  We agreed that I should write about Patrick’s handsome mug in the hopes of bringing him fame and fortune…but I haven’t found the story in it yet.  So instead, I’m going to tell you about my day yesterday at the dog beach.

In Long Beach, there’s a 3 mile stretch of sandy beach that is known as the Bark Beach.  It’s magical.  As far as the eye can see, dogs of every size, shape, and color romp happily in the warm sand.  Bull dogs and St. Bernard’s play with Shih Tzu’s and Daschund’s.  It’s like the United Nations of the dog world.  Water dogs punctuate the ocean, paddling out to catch tennis balls and then gleefully riding into shore on the waves.  The Dog Beach reminded me of Disneyland, but better.

So without further ado…Hank the Tank (5 months old, 53 pounds) experiences his first day at the beach while Kiki Wonder (6 years old, 12 pounds) bathes in the sun as the cool breeze blows through her beard.

The King of Pop

Yesterday in hip hop class I rocked out to Michael Jackson and it felt good, really good.  For so long, his music has been out there playing in the shadows as in “Oh yeah, Michael Jackson – love him.”  But from our daily playlists, he has been passed over and absent.  Every once in awhile I’d hear the Jackson 5 on the oldies station or at a wedding reception, but rarely would the beats of Michael find their way into the usual mix.  For one hour yesterday, I rocked out to every song and I remembered how great of an artist he was.

Yes, Michael was a weirdo, most of us could tell that something was very wrong just by looking at his face.  But psychological problems aside, he was a ground-breaking artist.  Unfortunately, in the quest to make money and build fame, the people who should have been looking out for him, abused and rode him too hard.  Maybe it could have been different, but then when he was accused of diddling with those young boys, the bright star that was Michael Jackson, dimmed forever.  We all knew that he was still an artistic maverick, but his oddities had gone too far.  So we shunned him and in so many words, told him that he wasn’t welcome on our stereos anymore until he shaped up.  We still loved his music, how could we not, it was genius, but we weren’t putting up with the new Michael’s behavior.

Yesterday I got slapped in the face by his music.  My body moved and my grin in the mirror reflected how great it was to get down to such an incredible sound, beat, rhythm, tempo.  I dance often and it’s been awhile since I’ve enjoyed myself so much.  Exhausted and sweaty, I could have danced for hours.  Why did I turn my back on how great his sound was/is/will always be?  Why did I ignore him for so long?  On YouTube I watched some of his old videos and marveled at all of the dance moves he made so famous.  And then I found this…it’s a 9 part series and it’ll probably touch you as much as it touched me.  I’ve attached part one.

Oh What A Difference One Day Makes

I’ll be brief this morning as I know you male readers are sick and tired of this becoming a bride blog.  And to be perfectly frank, I’m right there with you.

So without further ado, I’ll simply say this…I’m really glad I didn’t jump off a bridge yesterday because the rest of July 1st was awesome.  1.  I think I may have found my dress. (Thank you Carolina Herrera) and 2. Sam’s sister, Duncan designed the most amazing invitation in the world.  She should do it full time.  I can’t believe how talented and creative she is! (See her website link under ‘ART’ to your right)

And that’s all I’ll say about that.  From now on mums the word.  Our regular programming shall hence forth continue…

Heeeerrre’s Johnny!

The Wedding Blues

I’ve got 120 days to pull this thing together and I don’t know if I can do it.  I mean, I can, but maybe not in the way in which I imagined.  Maybe the huge, Chinese lanterns and the old-fashioned hanging lights aren’t going to work out.  Maybe the invitations are going to have to be slightly different.  And maybe my dress won’t be quite as fashion-forward and amazing as I had pictured it.  Can you tell I’m having a bad day over here?

I awoke this morning at about 6 o’clock in the morning with a never-ending To Do list running through my head.  Find this, call them, go there, figure out that.  Now I see why Wedding Planners are in such high demand.  This is not a job for the faint of heart.  To make matters worse, everyone keeps telling me to enjoy the process.  I don’t know what to say.  Am I excited about getting leg-shackled?  Yes.  Do I like the idea of having a party where our nearest and dearest are creating memories and hopefully having the time of their lives?  Absolutely. Is it stress-free trying to plan something like this when you’ve never done anything like it before in your entire life and you have champagne tastes on a shoestring budget?  No. No. No.

Everything I find is over budget.  The photographer I love is $6000.  The dress I love is $4000.  The decorations I love are $10,000.  The invitations I love are $2,500.  And this is all for a wedding with merely a few guests; our family and a couple of our oldest friends.  I just don’t understand how I ended up liking such nice things.  Give me a taste test of Wine A, which costs $5 and Wine B, which costs $500 and even if you put Wine B in a bottle marked ‘Wild Turkey’ with some dirt smeared on it like you found the bottle in the gutter or something, I’ll somehow pick Wine B as the one I want.

So pity party over, it’s 7 o’clock and I’ve got a 4 page list of duties to tackle.  Duty #1: Find invitations that look like the invitations I like, are on recycled paper, have zero tacky motifs printed all over them, and don’t sell for $40 an invite.  Oh who am I kidding?  I’m totally going to cave and buy the expensive invitations.  That or give myself a heart attack trying to find something in my budget.  On the bright side, this stress is just melting away the pounds.  I ate an entire frozen pizza last night for dinner and it doesn’t even matter.  I’m almost down to the weight I was when I first lured in my husband to be.  Yay, skinny me!

Are You Out There Wedding Dress? It’s Me, Sara.

So the search for the perfect dress continues.  Yesterday, my good friend Shauna (who I just found out used to date a certain muscular man’s body double who also just happens to have the same amazing Eastern European accent, but a face that is about 1000 times cuter – how did I not know this???)…well, the two of us drove all the way out to Monrovia, California to find a dress.

Why did I do that, you might ask.

There I was at physical therapy having my neck prodded and poked, when my therapist told me that she had found her Barbie doll dream dress.  (Just so you know, she’s getting married in a year and a half.  Since my wedding is but months away, you can imagine my pleasure in hearing how on-the-ball she is.)  “Where did you find it?”  I asked, crossing my fingers that maybe just maybe this was a sign from God and that my search was about to end…And that’s how I found myself picking up Shauna and driving out to east-bumble Monrovia.

I knew the minute I walked into the store that I had made a big, big mistake.  Poof, beading, ruching, and long taffeta trails spread wall-to-wall as far as the eyes could see.  Why, Lord, why?  To appease the owner I stripped down to my underpants and tried on a few dresses/nightmare concoctions of lace and organza.  As I stepped in and out of poofiness, I realized that I’m on the verge of becoming a nudist.  I’m so used to being buck-naked in front of strange shopkeepers, I can barely discern the difference between clothed and unclothed except that when I’m clothed I don’t keep sneaking peaks at my thighs in the mirror.

After we all agreed that my small frame did not look good in a 40-pound gown that we had to cinch all over with jumper cables (that’s how they fit the dresses to you; they clip in the baggy parts with orange clips that look just like what you keep in the car to charge the battery.  between the cables and the horrible dresses, I feel like a clunker that nobody wants.  maybe I’m part of the cash-for-clunkers scheme)…well, after all that, Shauna and I went back to the city where we hit up Paperbag Princess, a well-known vintage store.  Eh.  Shauna loved one of the dresses, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew it wasn’t what I wanted.

And so the search continues…today I’m off to the Glamour Closet and a Kimono store in Japantown.  Maybe yards of embroidered fabric, white face, and a black wig is what I need.  Because this wedding dress thing is nuts.

Finding the Perfect Wedding Dress (otherwise known as needle in a haystack)

I have tried on more dresses than a dress mannequin.  First of all, who prices these things?  $4,000?  $5,000?  $6,000?  $7,000?  Believe it or not, those are the average prices I’m finding.  Do I look like a Maharajah?  A Sheik?  An oil tycoon per chance?  No.  And that’s why it makes no sense that I’m encountering such astronomical prices.  I’m not asking for a dress made in diamonds with a ruby zipper.  Just a little something that makes me feel like me.

On Saturday Mom and I went into a bridal store where I found just such a dress.  I put it on and for the first time in about 50 dresses, I felt like I looked good.  I mean, if the dress is a wow with a greasy ponytail and flip flops, think what it must look like when I really get myself dolled up.  Unfortunately, the dress is $3000, which doesn’t include shipping from France, alterations, and a hefty Californian sales tax.  So I did what any young girl would do, I asked if I could purchase the floor sample.  The answer was a resounding No.

Today I’m off to some new-to-you shops to see if I can’t find a similar dress.  I thought about the dress I love all weekend, but I just can’t swing it.  Unless I ask my guests to pack a lunch, a French lace dress is not in my budget.  I have a folder full of dresses that I like, but can’t afford.  My fingers are crossed that I can replicate or come close to finding one of them at a fraction of the cost.  The funny things is, I’m getting really excited about this big party and the planning of it is finally becoming fun.  If only the dress shopping came with a $1,000 coupon or let’s be honest, a $4,000 price reduction.  The mark-up on these gowns is absurd.

Photo Courtesy of Yves St. Laurent and David Barrie