Summertime Sadness/Style

By now you are aware that it is August, I hope, and I don’t know how I feel about it. Summer ending. I vacillate between “get it over with already” and “but I still haven’t tried the pecan caramel ice cream Carolina Cone’s has been advertising since June!”

I’m ready for cooler weather, for leaving the doors and windows open all weekend, for taking a walk outside and not having to change my shirt afterwards due to major pit stains.

But at the same time, I feel like I haven’t taken advantage of summer yet. Like I just let it go by, unnoticed, uncelebrated. And so I’ve been lingering over images that say “summer” to me.

Summer colorsCan’t wait til I’m grown up/rich enough to spend summers on the Cape in clapboard houses. It WILL happen.

Summer barn

This is where Ariel and Eric, from Little Mermaid fame, live (or should):

Pool house

Dat arch, tho.

Summer table

I guess it’s silly to mourn summer before it’s really gone. I still have time to get that ice cream, right? And who says I can’t eat ice cream in September — heck, December – if I wanted to?

Ice cream

Don’t try to stop me.

1 – Freesia doors via This Old House
2 – New Hampshire farmhouse via Country Living
3 – Grotto via C Magazine
4 – Bougainvillea + tablescape via Vogue Mexico
5 – OMG ice cream via Styled Sealed Delivered

I’ve got a pain in the neck.

Kitten | Edged in AwesomeAnd his name is Oliver. He’s a kitten and he is mine (in this moment, begrudgingly). I love him so much and he’s already my best friend and all — but he’s also freaking exhausting. Don’t let that picture above fool you. He’s a terror. Today he thought it would be a good idea to jump from the top of my stairs onto my dining table below spilling the chili flakes that I was just about to put on my pizza everywhere.

Kitten | Edged in Awesome

This is his “who, me?” face. Yes Oliver, you. It’s always you.

His favorite toy is my hand, especially when my hand is trying to do something productive like typing or eating or carrying him to the litter box before he pees on the floor. I named him Oliver thinking that “Ollie” would be a frequently used nickname. But Ollie just doesn’t carry enough weight when, say, he’s climbing up my lace curtains. When he’s bad he’s Oliver. When he’s really bad he’s Ol-i-ver.

Kitten | Edged in Awesome

Oh great, here he comes. Jumping up on the couch and — what’s this? Not peeing or scratching or trying to knock down my jars of spices? He’s curling up beside me, nudging his head under my hand, purring. He knows I was talking/blogging bad about him and he’s trying to placate me. And dammit, it’s working.

Aren’t you a good wittle kitty …

If you got any kitten tips, please share them below. Preferably before Oliver wakes up from his cat nap.

P.S. 15 Comic Book-Inspired Kids Rooms over at Brit + Co

Wisdom Teeth Removal and a Pretty Pink Vanity

Oh man. Ohhhhh mannn. Why didn’t anyone tell me that getting my wisdom teeth out would be such a party?

I finally got my wisdom teeth out on Friday, and like any normal person, I was totally freaking out in the oral surgeon’s office. I opted for full-on anesthesia, which was worrying me a bit more than the actual procedure. As an upstanding individual deeply concerned with my personal welfare, I came in with some well-prepared questions for my nurse: “Are you going to poke me with a needle? Don’t poke me with it until you warn me, okay? Can I see the needle? WAIT — I don’t want to see the needle. Definitely don’t want to. Have you poked me yet?”

When she finally did poke me (after a warning, she’s the best), I felt all my worries drift away on a fluffy white dream cloud. I hadn’t felt this relaxed since I fell asleep listening to a global soundscapes cd while in the tub.

Then the nurse told me that she hadn’t even started pumping me with any medication yet. We had a good chuckle about the placebo effect. Then I passed out.

So, since then, I’ve been resting up at home, eating a crap-ton of ice cream and mashed potatoes and taking my doctor’s recommendation to avoid strenuous activity for five to seven days very seriously (pshh, as if I need a doctor’s note to avoid strenuous activity).

I would say that I’ve never eaten so much ice cream and mashed potatoes all at once … but that would be a lie.

Anyway, in between reruns of The Office, I’ve been editing photos off of my camera. I came across a set I took while at my parent’s home over July 4th. My sister is redoing her bedroom there, and I helped her out by sanding and painting an old desk of hers that she wants to use as a vanity. She still has a lot of work to do in the room, but we put together her vanity and took some pics:

Blush pink vanity | Edged in AwesomeShe recovered the little seat cushion in blue velvet herself. Unfortunately, our tawny cats have taken a liking to it …

Blush pink vanity | Edged in AwesomeShe’s not sold on the mirror, but I think it’s just FAB.

Mirror detail | Edged in AwesomeVanity | Edged in AwesomeVanity | Edged in AwesomeBlush pink vanity | Edged in AwesomeBedroom makeovers are a veritable past time in my family, so I’m glad I got to be a part of this one. Time to paint those baseboards, Sister.

Now, back to popping pills and more mashed potatoes. Thank god for the Kentucky Fried General.

P.S. 15 Ways to Upgrade Your Rental Without Ticking Off Your Landlord over at Brit + Co. This one was fun!

Paris Prints

I’ve just returned from a wonderful weekend visiting friends in D.C. Well, everything was wonderful except for the weather. D.C. didn’t let me forget even for a minute that it was built upon a swamp. I sweated all day err day — D.C. friends, please wash your sheets.

To escape the heat and humidity, we checked out the National Gallery of Art’s Degas and Cassatt exhibit. In addition to finally figuring out how to correctly pronounce Mary Cassatt’s name, I also learned that she and Degas were the absolute best of friends. So cute. They frolicked around Paris (and did a bit of painting, too, I guess) together, with nary a back-stabbing episode nor a falling-for-your-best-friend affair to tear their friendship asunder. They were basically BFFs until they died. Refreshing, really.

The art was great, but who are we kidding, the gift shop was the best part.

I particularly loved these Parisian letterpress notecards I came across by Albertine Press.

Paris notecards

They’re like fancy scribbles of the most fabulous place on earth.

Paris notecards

It’s so cool to think that these are the streets that Degas and Cassatt walked. Can’t wait to go back someday.

Paris notecards

The colors are so simple — and so gorgeous.

Paris notecards

Check out Albertine Press’s Etsy Shop HERE. Psstt — they’re a little bit cheaper than what’s in the gift shop :)

PS – 10 Museum Exhibits You Have to See Before the End of Summer (by yours truly over at Brit+Co)

(Photos via Albertine Press)

How I Will Pay for My Fro Yo Habit …

Saguaro Hotel

I’ve got a new side gig! Psyched to be a freelance editor with Brit + Co, an awesome site that curates and creates content around anything DIY, design, beauty, style, and tech. It’s very colorful. I like it there.

My first post is up, 10 Design Ideas from the Hippest Boutique Hotels in the World. Check it out? Thanks! You’re the best.

Move Over, America


Birthday girl |Edged in AwesomeAnother year older. Me, that is, not America.

It’s hard competing for attention with the Greatest Country on EarthTM. But every 4th of July, that’s what I have to do. My granddad loves to remind me how, 24 years ago, I effed up everyone’s holiday plans when I came into this world looking like a boiled potato. They had to file into the hospital wing ooo’ing and aww’ing, when all they wanted to do was get back to their beers and their chicken wings and the pile of firecrackers they had planned on sticking in a watermelon.

Birth day | Edged in Awesome

People complain about having their birthdays fall on Halloween, or Christmas. Quit whining, babies. So you have to share your spotlight with a guy in a red suit. But Independence Day is serious. It transcends religious lines. It’s a day that’s about all of us. Which sucks when it’s a day that I want to be all about me. Amidst the beer-drinking and bottle rocket launches, we’re supposed to be thinking about our Forefathers and the Sacrifices they made so we can enjoy Freedom and Liberty and limited forms of Justice. Which makes my insistence on a certain kind of birthday breakfast cereal even more petulant and petty (it’s Coco Crisps, Mom, it’s always been Coco Crisps).

There is no “I” in country.

There is no “Me” in independence.

There are no pink birthday candles for sale at the grocery store because they’re all red, white and blue.

My birth seems small in the face of the birth of a nation.

Birthday | Edged in Awesome

BUT there is good news.

Americans have collectively chosen to celebrate America’s birthday by eating and drinking  their weight in freedom. Coincidentally, that’s how I like to celebrate my birthday as well. Always has been (see above). Things have worked out all right over the years.

Although, I swear, if I get one more present wrapped in a replica of the Declaration of Independence …

Happy 4th, ya’ll.

Oh! Canada

Last week I had a business trip to Canada. It was downright depressing. I spotted zero meese, zero fur-lined hats, and the Tim Horton’s next to my hotel was “under construction.” The worst part? My hotel room looked just like any generic American counterpart. I don’t care if it’s July — where’s my faux fur blanket? Where’s my leering above-the-bed moose head? Where’s Danny Baker from 30 Rock? Here’s my Canadian hotel room remained, with warm gray, a touch of pink, and moose all over: Oh! Canada | Edged in Awesome Clockwise from top left: 1 – Moose head goes glam, by White Faux Taxidermy 2 – This armchair is cooler than you, via Posh 365 3 – Cuddle up with faux fur, via Restoration Hardware 4 – Fuzzy felted slippers, by Felting by Eglut 5 – Pink plaid, by Pillow Throw Decor

Post-vacay struggles and some juicy prints

I’ve been back from the Bahamas for a bit, which was great — got a shade redder, got laughed at by a TSA agent for my lame-ass passport photo, yada yada yada. This post-Bahamas week has been pretty rough though. Reason being: I gave myself carte-blanche on the food front while on vacation.

After a week of eating fried conch and chicken nuggets, AND ONLY fried conch and chicken nuggets, my body needed a break from brown, oil-soaked foodstuffs. I found a nine-day “Eat Your Way Slim” diet in the pages of Harper’s Bazaar, tore it out, stuck it on the fridge, and treated like it was the Bible and I was Ken Ham. The diet promised a five-pound payoff, which sounded perfect, since I’m pretty sure I gained more than that during my conch/nugget binge (note to self: pitch Long John Silver’s on a Conch Nugget concept). BUT what I didn’t take into account was that Harper’s Baazar is written for skinny people, and five pounds is to skinny people what 25 pounds is to luscious-sized people. Standing in line at the grocery store, looking into my cart of greens and grains I’ve never tasted before, I knew this week was going to be tough. Lowlights of my “Eat Yourself Skeletal” week:

- I found out that there is something grosser than “whole grain” bread — “sprouted grain.”

- On Wednesday, Harper’s Bazaar told me to sauté some leafy greens for dinner. And only leafy greens. I told Harper’s Bazaar, “F that,” and cooked myself some quinoa. I was never very good at sticking it to the man.

- Cooked lentils look like dog food, and taste worse. Sources can confirm. (I am that source).

- I purchased baby beets instead of regular ones because I thought baby beets might be more tender and sweet-tasting (which will also be my logic come any post-apocalyptic cannibalism situation. WATCH OUT, BABIES). After trying baby beets, I am terrified to ever find out what regular beets taste like.

So, did the diet work, you ask? Technically, yes. I’m a few pounds lighter, but not because of what I ate on the diet. It’s because the food on the diet was so disgusting I didn’t eat at all.

I’d try to distract my myself from the gnawing hunger with a little Pinteresting, but no luck — every time I started to scroll through Pinterest, BAM!. Another pineapple-covered print of some sort or the other would inspire a stomach growl with the promise of it’s dripping sweetness. It’s been cruel — and I don’t even like Pineapples. But these prints look so juicy and delectable. I’d hang any of these on my wall, which is the only place fruits and vegetables belong.

Pineapple prints

First row:

1 – Gold accented by Snoogs and Wilde
2 – An unusual view by Visual Spectrum
3 – Frutti Tutti by Shelley Steer and Louise Jones

Second Row:

1 – Art Deco meets the tropics by Demi Goutte
2 – Kaleidoscope by Shatzi Brown
3 – Black and white by Catalina Creative

I’m calling it now: lentil prints … #thenextbigthing

To the Bahamas

Bahamas(Pic by Jeremiah and Rachel Photography, via Style Me Pretty)

Andddd I’m outta here. On Saturday, I’m jumping on a plane to meet my family for a week in the Bahamas. Now I can stop pretending to diet to fit in that bikini I never ended up buying! Phew.

My parents have never been out of the country so I’m pretty psyched for them to finally get a stamp in their newly minted passports. Although, we’re staying on Paradise Island (home of the Atlantis Resort), which is less a foreign country and more like a cross between the set of Legends of the Hidden Temple and that spaceship from Wall-E filled with morbidly obese humans. Go ahead and judge, we like our rivers simulated and our vacations culture free. (Actually, please don’t judge — there’s a free bed in it for me).

Feel free to follow along on Instagram — although, to be honest, by Saturday night my bodily fluids will be 70% Rum so most instas will probably be blurry and/or depicting the bottom of my drank glass. But artistically blurry, I promise!

See ya! Or, as they say in the Bahamas (quick Google search of what they do say in the Bahamas), See ya! The official language of the Bahamas is English. I apologize for this anti-climatic turn of events.

Office Space, Spruced Up

Corporate America is the worst. This guy agrees with me. This guy also knows his way around SEO, being the first website to pop up when I Googled “why does Corporate America suck?”. SEO > design sense. Good on him.

It’s not the corporate cronyism, the profit-worshipping, or the intense peer pressure to participate in department-wide potlucks that gets me the most, though. It’s the decor.  It’s like one day some higher-up said, “Hey, I have an idea — to encourage productivity, let’s put all our employees in dimly lit boxes with drab, gray walls. And — let’s pad the walls so they don’t kill themselves when they repeatedly knock their heads against them. Also, I’m taking tomorrow off to watch the NBA draft.”

Cubers, don’t despair. Check out some ideas below to dress up your drab. Or you can always go the route I took at my first job, matching Martha Stewart desk accessories! RIP ocher pebbled file folder …

Cubicle Decor |

1 – (Upper Left) Black ribbon + gold frames + dried flowers = Classiest cube, hands down. Pic via Apartment Therapy.
2 – (Upper Middle) Totally mod with just some wrapping paper and a stapler. Please ignore  the grass rug under the desk. Pic by Susan Russo, via Pinterest.
3 – (Upper Right) Arghhhh, florescent light in your cube is the worst. Add a wittle lamp to up the cute and avoid bloodshot eyes. Pic via Office Furniture.
4 – (Bottom Left) Forget wrapping your cube walls, wrap your file drawers instead. Forget that, wrap EVERYTHING. Pic via Say Not Sweet Anne.
5 – (Bottom Middle) Is this a cubicle or an art museum? Couldn’t tell because of that well-curated gallery wall you gots going on. Pic via Gardenview Cottage blog.
6 –  (Bottom Right) Use tacks and ribbon to create photo/inspiration board. Pics of me to put up available upon request. Pic via the Glitter Guide.