crushing on charlie

Last night, the Mister and I were watching Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps. It stars Shia LaBeouf and Michael Douglas (who is the bad guy--of course), and I just so happen to always get him confused with Martin Sheen. Who inevitably reminds me of his son, Charlie. So, last night as I am watching, I begin to remark, "Can't you just see Charlie in his dad?" But I stopped midway through the question, realizing the error of my ways, and pretended like I wasn't just thinking about Charlie Sheen and how great he made a nasty goatee & mullet look in the 90's version of The Three Musketeers.

10 minutes later. I'm in the kitchen pouring some milk when Husband says, "Guess who's also in this movie?" I look at the screen. There's Michael Douglas and the back of some other guy's head. Well, I'd know the back of that head anywhere. 

"Hey! Charlie Sheen!"

Awkward silence. 

Husband: "That's creepy."

Me: "Well, his head has been all over the news for months. Plus, I've had a crush on him since I was 6 and saw him in Heidi. 

Another awkward silence.

Me: "Don't worry. I don't have a crush on him anymore."

Husband: "Wasn't worried."

Sure.

(It's true, though. He's not really the jealous sort-- much to my dismay when I am trying to make him jealous with talk of my past Hollywood crushes. Poor, poor me.)

In other news, I was reading a post yesterday on this cute blog about seeing Shia LaBeouf in a London double-decker bus and missing the opportunity to talk to him due to shyness. The comment was made the Shia is shorter than you'd think he'd be. So last night as I watched Shia parade around the screen in tailored suits & perfectly gelled hair, I laughed a little bit at how incredibly tall they made him look. And I wondered during the elevator shot where he towered over the woman next to him if they just purposely pick a teensy-weensy woman to stand there or if they put Shia on a crate or something-- like that one time when I saw Dashboard Confessional for the first time and couldn't stop laughing because Chris Carrabba was standing on a crate for tallness purposes.

Good times, right?

Is this love?

Some glimpses from the weekend...

Convey Sushi Bar downtown.

This is where we found that one stripper. Good times.

And yes, this is love.
For each other.
For this city.
For this weekend.

So here's the thing about weekends. I love them. And here's why:

Friday, 5 pm: The world is yours to conquer. And the adventures are only beginning when the sun goes down. The night is young, and it's gonna last until you say it's over.

Saturday, 6:30 am: This is when the alarm would generally go off on any given week day. But not today. Today you own the morning. And it's for snoozing. It's for cuddling. It's for finally dragging your limbs off the mattress only to park them on the couch with a big bowl of cereal watching Spongebob, because you think maybe this time you'll understand why it's so funny. But you still don't. But at least you're still in pajamas with bed-head.

Saturday afternoon to night: There are no real meals made. But the city is buzzing, and it's open to you as long as you can stand the damp air and the withering heat. And you can. And you do, because Saturday is all about fitting everything in that you couldn't do every night after work. And at the end of that day of work and play, you are rewarded with a big bowl of popcorn, your very own Big Drink, and a seat next to the love of your life to enjoy the next flick on your Netflix queue.

Sunday: Prepare whatever lesson or ironing or painting of nails you procrastinated the night before (in order to fit in that extra hour of popcorn eating and pillow talking) and get about the business of the Sabbath. Sometimes it doesn't feel like a day of rest. But when you sit and reflect on the work of the day, you realize it was rest for your soul. Rest needed to conquer the haranguing of the world you'll receive the rest of the week. Rest to be a better person.

Sunday night: A quiet dinner. A TCM classic, maybe. Any excuse to keep Monday morning at a distance. You drink in what's left of the weekend until you know you can't anymore. Till you have to shut your eyes even if you aren't tired, because that 6:30 alarm will come earlier than you think. 

Then you work hard all week so you can have weekends like this all the time.

And by you I mean me. But I know we all have our weekend things.

What do you love about the weekend?

When in Carolina...

Do what the Carolinians do.

It's Bo Time, baby!



We found THE Bojangles man. THE BOJANGLES MAN! If I thought he wouldn't have had a heart attack from fright, I might have gone and kissed him on the head for all he has done to make this world a
tastier--if slightly more obese--place.

Dang it, my stomach is growling.

Because of my living room...

...I am now drained of all creative juices and will now be posting pictures mostly of inanimate objects, sorry. But seriously. I spent the entire weekend (almost) rearranging the furniture, the pictures, the books, the knick-knacks, the what-have-yous... (and not just in the living room, either), and now I am simply devoid of good ideas for posting.

I did have an interesting dream, though! It was about babies, you know those dreams? Well, anyways, I magically popped out a baby girl (meaning no pain, gore, nothing), except that she was born with lots of curly blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a frilly little dress on. Oh, and she would repeat everything I said. And no one in the dream seemed to think that was weird except for me. They kept telling me that my daughter is so beautiful, so perfect, so... Ugh. I kept telling them that newborns aren't supposed to look like that, aren't supposed to talk to you... They come out pink and wrinkly and crying.

Why wasn't mine wrinkly and crying, huh?!

I think it must have been the peanut butter cookies and the stuffy sinuses talking, but seriously, that dream really weirded me out. I mean what kind of sick kid dreams up that kind of stuff? I woke up clammy and disgusted and ready to crawl back under the covers and sleep for another 10 hours.

But se la Monday!, right?!

So, because my brain is a puddle of goo swimming in yucky allergy-ness, I am just going to post some things from our week that I loved.

Clint brought out the wooly mammoths to aid him in the long nights of finals prep. (And no, I'm not talking about his hairy man-legs. Although I like those very much, too.) Those bad boys are begging me to turn them into fat sock puppets, don't you agree? They would look so nice with googly-eyes & pipe-cleaner buzz-cuts, right?



I steal Clint's pajama pants and used them for my lounging purposes... every night, pretty much. Aren't they lovely? Like plaid heaven-- soft and billowy. Allowing for just the perfect amount of breeziness (because that's very important, ya know?). But they are especially lovely and comforting when Clint has finals. They keep me warm till my main-man can come back to cuddle.
Quite the gentlemanly PJs, if you ask me...




Sweet potato fries (by Cafe Express) + Pepsi Max = UHH-HUH!
I mean really?-- fries that require no kind of condiment?!
Fries that are even a little flaky on the outside, crunch just the right amount, and are slightly sweet?!
Fries that cost as much as a whole meal and you can't even be mad about it?!
Then you add a drink that not only is the best kind of dark soda imaginable but has ginseng to add a special zip-zip-zing!?
Alright, alright!!!




I got really domestic this week and did a bunch of mending. And--- don't laugh at me women who believe it is degrading to do the mending--- it was FUN! Seriously, am I ridiculous?! I watched 1950s movies on TCM and mended. How quaint, right?
And I guess that means that instead of buying new things, I should just fix the old stuff, right?!
Or maybe both... yeah, probably both.

 

Some little birds have taken up residence with us. I don't appreciate their hungry squawking, but they are just so cute peeking their little heads out looking for their mother. One time I think they even asked me, "Are you my mother?" But I can't be sure, because I don't speak Baby-Bird. So I just ignored them. Or maybe I said, "Shut yo moufs birdies!"--- I can't really remember...



Well, this is a Houston freeway. Endless traffic. BUT up ahead is a Houston skyline. Up above is the gorgeous Texas sky. And in a few miles there will be an IKEA.
I say, Yes indeedy!




I also always love going to Astros games (even though their really stinking up the place lately) and taking awkward pictures of me with the Clintonator. We feast on chili dogs or bratwurst that taste kind of like the sole of your shoe (but magically aren't so bad because you're at a baseball game), sing "Deep in the Heart of Texas" with vigor and vim, & hem and haw every time the other team hits a homer.



And this, my friends, was the best part of Friday's game. Go here to see what this is all about. Totally made my life---
I mean my night.

Then there were the post-game fireworks. Synchonized to country music. In a ballpark.
The Houston skyline sillouhetted in the backgroung.
God bless America, ya know?

This is my favorite picture from that night. Or maybe ever.
Kind of reminded me of this little number by Whistler.
What do you think?



Oh and exams are a great excuse for me to make sweet-treats for my Sweet-Treat.
And to be as sappy as I want, too!



Best for last--- the rains came down and the Texas sky put on a show.

What a lovely week!

Oh, and P.S. I redecorated the entire apartment this weekend, with the exception of Clint's man-cave.

Pictures to come.

confessions of a nerdly nerd...

you see, the thing is... i'm married to a really smart guy. but he is also so cool. like--- well, really. he likes all the right things, ya know? sports, surfing, sushi, anything-but-a-chick-flick-please, working out, hair slightly dissheveled, baggy jeans (?)... the works. he's just a bundle of coolness.

but he married me. little romantic, spastic, old-soul me.

so here are my confessions so that you may know what a nerdly nerd i really am. you can laugh at me or relate to me. or maybe both--wouldn't that be fun?!


1. i love word games. especially banangrams/take 2/tiles... whatever you call it. love.




2. camping. outdoors. s'mores. hiking. tinfoil dinners. still wear my hair in pigtails.

3. until very recently i didn't know there was a difference between louboutin & vuitton. yep.

4. (a) this is the most seductive move i pulled in college. (b) i completed a bachelor's degree in 3 years in american studies. wanna know what that looked like........

........kinda like this: 

5. speaking of books-- i am pretty sure i have read every mary higgins clark mystery ever written. which would be really cool if i were like 50 years old. but i have to hand it to her, she is one classy lady!

6. i am an old-soul through and through. i still wish we wore corsets & lace & powdered wigs (okay, not powdered wigs). but seriously, you may some day find me on an ad for a renaissance festival... maybe. but until then i will settle for lovely things like this blouse from anthropologie:

7. my love of rocks. and i'm not necessarily talking about diamonds. at one point in my childhood i even attended a rock show, played with a sand-sifter during recess, & used a rock tumbler. yep. my interests now lie in the arrangement of the rocks, but my sand-sifting hands are ready in case any of our future unborn children happen to go through a rock-collecting phase of their own.

yes, i am a nerd. but i enjoy who i am. i enjoy what i like. i love that my hero is anne shirley and that i found my gilbert blythe. that i still pick up pretty rocks wherever i see them. that i can never say no to a good book. that i secretly try to talk clint into being a foreign diplomat with me. that i know you don't add the "de" in front of tocqueville when abbreviating his name. that i would rather get my knees scraped up hiking for 4 hours then shopping for 4 hours. that i can't pronounce the majority of french words. that i wore overalls & bandanas in seventh grade and thought that was really cool. that i thought i could fly off my bunkbed on a magic carpet. that i believe in true love & magic & that every girl is a princess.

i love these things. more power to the nerd in us all!

could we be, maybe?

i can't shake it. this itchy feeling in the pit of my stomach. this feeling that i'm possibly, maybe, quite probably falling in love.


with india.

have i been there? no.

but i went to hawai'i, you see. and while i was there, the clintman and i went exploring in hippyville. what we found may have quite possibly changed my life forever.

i found india again. yes again.

in a little store. there was india everywhere. in frames, on beds, on the windows, on wooden hangers, splayed on walls, across the floor. india to rest your feet on, india to put your feet in. india to wear, india to taste, india to smell (well not for clint to smell), india to write in, india to rest your head upon.

india to love.

and now i want to go and to see and to love and to know all that india is. but maybe i will never be able to go to india because that one time i sat on the elephant at the hare krishna temple and i'm really very sorry. really.

but i don't think i should be banished. not quite yet, please? because you see... india has really always been there inside me. really.
like that time when i had an indian friend in first grade. she was lovely. skinny as a rail, big eyes, hair the color of ebony dreams, seriously. but it was her grandmother who planted the seed of wonder in my tiny 6-year-old soul. she made me a satchel. not just any satchel. hand-woven. bright reds and greens and yellows. just for me.

their house smelled lovely. and the grandmother had great big holes in her ears that hung low low low so you could see through them. and she was gentle.

around the same time i met sushmita and sanje. they worked with my dad and dressed in suits. but at home she wore a sari and her bindi, and she was stunning. she glowed in her home. and he was so kind. and the air smelled like spices. and i fell in love again and again but refrained from touching all the pretty things on the shelves.

so you see, it was inevitable that i walk into that shop in hawai'i with my clint. and find india again.

{serenity in the fabric and the trees and the graceful movement}

{oh, the colors! don't they just make you want to live!?}

{flowers blooming out of the dessert sand}

{isn't she beautiful? eyes like thunder.}

now i will collect treasures from here and fill my life with colors and spices and try to share the love with everyone else and wait for the day when i can visit.

because india, could we maybe be sisters, you and i?





do YOU have any loves like this?

life

should be like this dress...

you were expecting me to say something wise? no, not me.

but isn't this dress great? a happy yellow bow reflected off a shimmery pool of gray silk-- sprays of frothy flowers bubbling up on the surface.

this dress is fun. life is fun. or anyways, it should be.

and the rest of this post is just going to be a bunch of things that i think are perfectly lovely.

{i will make this totally useless stick chandelier someday. i will!}

{doesn't this make you just want to read and read?}

{completely pointless. gloves for gloves' sake.}

{i think, yes}

{maybe i am in love with turquoise}

{room of dreams and magical things}

{self-explanatory}

{grain sack pillows & a random K9... somehow it works}

{i love this- except that i would be afraid of getting splinters in my head...}

{how happy would you be if you got to walk up these stairs every day?}

{the stick-chandelier... i would like to give whoever thought of this a major award.}

{husband, may i please buy this from house of glass on louisiana street? i probably need it.}

{hello spring!}

{if only they grew peonies in the winter--this bouquet would have been mine all mine}

{it's just that this looks like a tea party in heaven. i know; i've been there before}

{i don't knit... or do anything with yarn... but i could definitely stack some in a barrel and say i do!}

{i could have kids with this dining room}



{divine much?}



{perhaps i covet this wallpaper... perhaps}

i hope this 1st of march is absolutely lovely for you.