stop messing with my liquor and calling it macaroni

dear rest of the world,

I don't ask for much.

If you are giving me gin and it isn't bombay sapphire, then I thank you, but politely decline.

If I'm about to drink beer I prefer it dark. By dark I do not mean brown ale (Newcastle, I'm looking at you). I do not mean any sort of ale. I mean porters or stouts. If I can see through it, I will not drink it. Period.

This has been a public service announcement that no one cares about but me. Now, if you will please excuse me while I go dump the rest of this Newcastle Brown Ale in the sink. Because, gross.

your resident (almost) alcohol snob


like setting fire to my skin whilst partaking in an exercise in futility.

Back from camping!

As predicted, the weather in Carpinteria was beautiful. I'm generally more of a cold/cloudy/windy kind of girl and temperate, central coast weather is completely wasted on me. BUT that being said, the gorgeousness that is the Carpinteria coast is hard to deny. Now, to just remember my western european heritage and pack the damn sunscreen. Lobster Girl, for serious, even the part in my hair is sunburned.

So much SUN! And SAND! And STUPID!

You know how you know something for certain, 100%, and have proof of your knowledge but someone else refuses to listen, even when you are adamant? And right? Oh for the love of all that's holy, you are RIGHT? That happened to me while camping. I had told someone the week before that the dog my in-laws were bringing camping had not been properly socialized and did NOT like other dogs. Under any circumstances. Did they listen? NO THEY DID NOT.

"Lets introduce the dogs."
"It will be fine."
"But our dog is so friendly!"
"Let's just get them together."
"But she's such a good girl!"

So, not listening to me, or my husband, they introduced the dogs. The great big freaking baby that is my in-laws great dane proceeded to growl and snarl at the other dog, all while contemplating eating her.
Did they listen to me? NO THEY DID NOT.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Charlie, the worlds biggest baby, who also happens to eat small dogs.

And so the dogs had to be kept separate the entire trip. Then, after 4 days, the worlds most annoying accountant "forgot" that there was a 130 pound dog tied up in the campsite and walked her tasty, tasty dog through. Chaos ensued. It was at this point that I am glad I was on the beach during the "incident". My husband...not so much. He pulled her away before she could do any damage and had words with his dad. It's a damn good thing I wasn't there. I would have had words for the worlds most annoying accountant also.

It wasn't all bad. Though I was never really able to entirely shake the feeling of annoyance, it had less to do with the vacation and more to do with the fact that my tolerance level for people in general is only about 2 degrees above absolute zero.
We got at least mildly sauced every night, we played Cards Against Humanity (if you've never played, you're missing out, seriously.)We walked on the beach a LOT, where I suffered a mildly sprained ankle on the first day. I WENT IN THE OCEAN. This is huge for me. I didn't panic or drown or anything. I didn't yell at a single person, it was a close thing. We watched the solar eclipse. You know what works way better than a cardboard box with a hole in it for viewing? 4 pairs of sunglasses stacked on top of each other (and not looking through my sweater and counting on that to not blind me). Watched my father in-law pole dance, sort of. Was both hilarious and slightly traumatizing.

A little sorry to be home again. But WOW, did I miss my bed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .sunset in Carpinteria
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .the hubs and one of the many trains that roll through here
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .lagoon bridge and california poppies
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . train bridge

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dusk


we're sorry, this space has reached it's capacity

You can't hear me, but I'm screaming. No one can hear me, but I'm screaming. I'm screaming so loudly that I can barely hear myself. I am screaming so loudly that it is thunderously silent. Silent.
For the past few months I feel like I have been gradually filling up. With what I'm not even sure. Anger? Annoyance? Nonsense? I don't know what it is but I'm full. FULL I tell you. Or nearly so. I feel like I am full of crazy, barely leashed, crazy. It seems that recently every tiny thing has been setting me off. I've never been very patient but I've always been able to tamp it down and move past what ever it was. I'm a seether, not a snapper. I feel like there is no more room to tamp. No matter how much the tiny people in my head jump up and down on whatever crap is cluttering it up in there, it isn't working anymore.
What happens when I'm full? What do you do?

It's a damn good thing there aren't any bell towers around here.

And now I'm on the FBI's watch list for domestic terrorists.

Like I wasn't before. BWAhahahHAHAhaha!!!

{just for good measure}


temporal anomaly

Time is the indefinite continued progress of existence and events that occur in apparently irreversible succession from the past through the present to the future.



I snort at this bit temporal constant because I have, indeed, proven it wrong.

I am posting this from the past (oooOOOOooooo). Right now, as this posts, I am sitting on the beach in Carpinteria, California. Far away from my computer. I'm camping with my in-laws, honorary uncles, and friends. I am soaking up the beautiful and usually quite temperate, central coast sunshine. I am enjoying the silence. Jealous? At this very moment I am looking at this view:
How am I so certain? Because I am not only posting this from the past, but I am predicting the future TO THE MINUTE.
Take that Time Space Continuum.
Anyhow, enjoy your weekends. I know I'll be enjoying mine.


why I enjoy sleep

Okay me, enough with the dreaming about men you're not married to.

I had a dream last night.
Oh, that it could have gone on.
About a man who isn't even real.
Two men morphed into a new creation.
Who then turned into my rescuing hero.


I dreamed about a man who was the perfect combination of Gerard Butler and Chris O'Dowd, complete with perfect Irish brogue, sexy laughing eyes, the perfect amount of scruff.

I guess as far as dreams go, it could have been a LOT worse.


at the oviatt

A few weeks ago the hubs and I went to the Oviatt Penthouse in downtown Los Angeles with a good friend and her daughter.
The Oviatt Building was opened in 1928 as an upscale haberdashery. I just love that word, haberdashery. The building itself is gorgeous and needs to be seen to be believed. The penthouse, on the 13th floor, was owned and lived in by James Oviatt and his wife Mary. Parquet floors, marble walls, Lalique glass and ghosts. Oh, did I forget to mention that the building is haunted? hehe, haberdashery

Our private tour started at about 9pm, ending around midnight and was conducted almost entirely in the dark. Cold spots, flashes of light, odd smells and moving shadows galore. Aside from the physical beauty of the place (and OMG like being in a museum but I could TOUCH STUFF) there is a definite sense of spiritual presence.

Throughout the evening my husband and I picked up on the names Sarah and Louise. We found out later that Sarah was the name of both James Oviatts mother and eldest sister, who had raised him after his mothers death. Louise (which was mine) was the middle name of Sarah the sister and Mary the wife. Coincidence? Possibly. Likely? Not.

A few photos:

there appears to be someone sitting on the bed in this photo, there was no shape there in the frame before or after this one and when the lights were turned on the bed was mussed and there was a butt print on the fabric. Ghost or trick of the light?The hubs asked me to take this picture in that moment. He said it felt like someone was touching his head from above. In the larger version of this picture you can see the shadow of what appears to be a person, arm extended over the hubs head. The shadow is not his. His can be clearly seen on the pillar he is leaning against.Up on the roof (the VIEWS!!) I was alone on the upper level and thought I saw a woman standing behind this curtain. As I walked away I pointed the camera over my shoulder and snapped a picture. See the rounded shadow?>
The front of the Oviatt building which now houses the Cicada restaurant on the bottom floor.
We couldn't quite figure out what this was. Turns out it was the incinerator chimney. Still pretty though.
The people that lease the Penthouse are beginning to do ghost tours and midnight martinis. $45 plus tax per person, 21 and over only. Worth it. GO THERE. The first is June 2nd, 2012. Proceeds go to restore the clock tower/penthouse.


can't stop giggling

I saw this posted on facebook today. I'm not sure where this originally came from but kudos the programmer at Google Maps that is responsible for this. You are awesome my friend.

So. Go to google maps and click Get Directions. Select Walking. Start place The Shire, destination Mordor. Click Get Directions.

I still can't stop laughing.