the best holiday impression

I will never, ever get tired of this episode of This American Life. If ever I'm having a bad day I listen to the episode Music Lessons.Usually I pick and choose a moment from an episode that is my favorite, but I love this entire thing.

David Sedaris' impression of Billie Holiday is a dead ringer and insanely hysterical, and Sarah Vowell is just my favorite human ever. If you have an hour to kill, I highly recommend giving this a whirl.

i give thanks for thanksgiving

I have to admit it, the Martha Stewart in me is kicking in and I'm getting super pumped for Thanksgiving this year. As most know, the AB boys are not allowed to return home for Thanksgiving. While they are off on Thursday, they are not off on Friday, and are not allowed to take off. So... no going home for the poor Lost Boys.

Good thing Wendy Darling is here to save the day! I've already been busy planning out the menu and cultivating recipes from the finest of sources. It's going to be a large undertaking, but I'm getting fancy this year. My menu includes: delicious turkey, mashed potatoes, fennel & sausage stuffing, green beans (regular, not casserole-d per Jim's distaste), fresh buns, butter pecan sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce with dried figs, maple glazed carrots, and apple pie with cinnamon ice cream. Mmmmmmm mmmm! Sounds great! Now if I can just make it taste great...

On top of planning a delicious-sounding and hopefully -tasting menu, I've been doing some searching around for table decor. Let me tell you, a holiday centered around yummy food opens so many doors for creative decorations. Here's what I'm liking...

I really love this place card idea. Moreso the pear than the weird prickly outdoor thing that you slip and break your ankle on. I think a brown pear on a red or orange napkin would look jawesome.

And now, some Thanksgiving scenes...

How hard could it be to make these leaf chains? I mean, what better things do I have to do on a Tuesday night? Answer: nothing. Leaf Chains it is! Plus, I'm totally into the cost effectiveness of this project. Fill up a wall for $5... I'm in.

Here are some more pears. I really really like the pears. If I had like $80 extra dollars I'd totally go out and buy these wine glasses and see-through orange plates. Actually, I was just in Pier 1 last Saturday and they had some stellar barware somewhat like this on sale... I may have to revisit and reconsider purchasing.

Now... these are two ideas that I'm already set on/in the process of creating: "Leaves in vases" and "Harvest Pumpkin Candleholders." I'm sure they have better names, but that's what they are and what I'm striving for.

I'll keep you updated on my Thanksgiving, unless it is ugly and sucks. Then I won't.

oh i wish i were a little bar of soap (bar of soap)

Living with a bunch of boys makes me really really want a pretty house. As much as I love Mizzou, I'm not such a super-huge fan of Mizzou mirrors and footballs and koozies everywhere. And yes, at my house koozies are considered decor. And of course I think Spudz McKenzie is cute - duh, he's a dog. But when a tin Spudz is the "artwork" greeting guests in your entry way, Mr. McKenzie starts to lose his pretty and becomes more of a pain.

So, while away from my boy castle I dream. I dream of pretty pantries lined with organized glass jars. Clawfoot tubs filled with pink bubbles and steaming water. I dream of matching silverware and, dare I say, cloth napkins (the kind not made by Brawny).

I wish I wish I wish

poordom

Today I got my paycheck. First and Fifteenth. But it's different this time - my new health insurance kicked in. I forgot this when I went to check my balance this morning.

I've come to the brutally honest realization that I am poor. I went over to a new friend's house on Wednesday for "girl's dinner." She is an accountant who just moved with her boyfriend from Manhattan to Denver. They bought a house and everything inside is new and shiny and adult. I should have been an accountant. I don't even have curtains.

I realized that everything in my house - decorations, furniture - is either left over from college, or cost $50 max when it was purchased. Why can't I be an adult with a job that actually pays me and actual real-person furniture that isn't covered in Papa John's garlic dipping sauce stains?

That led me to Google, "How much money should I be making?" One of the first links on a list is a Salary Calculator. Insert your job title and your area, and it will tell you the average amount of money a person with that job should be making in your location.

Injustices will be revealed! I thought. I will know the truth, and be driven to correct these damages done to me and my paychecks!

I entered "Marketing Coordinator" in "Denver, Colorado." Hm... that's funny. Not a super huge injustice.

Well, how about, "Publicity Coordinator" in "Denver, Colorado." ...even less of an injustice. (rude)

Apparently I picked the wrong profession. I should have been a dermatologist, then my cable wouldn't get shut off causing me to miss new episodes of 30 Rock. Please send money.

halloween already?

October 25th. That's insane.

This past year has gone by insanely fast. As in, way way faster than usual. You know what else is fast? The runners who participated in Scream Scram this past Friday (that's called a segway - I learned it recently from Kyle Killen).

I wasn't feeling super Halloween-ey, despite the mounds of candy corn and flashing pumpkin decorations living at my house right now, and although I griped about having to work on a Friday night just minutes before having to head to the airport, the Scream Scram 5K was the perfect event to switch on my Halloween enthusiasm.

Scream Scram is a Halloween 5K that benefits BGCMD (p.s. I try and avoid writing out the whole name on the off chance my blog shows up in anyone's Google News Alerts. I really don't feel like having my co-workers check out my blog posts about my dog in heat, etc.). The race attracts all kinds of people - serious runners, families, kids, pets, you name it. It's pretty unique because not only is the race at night, but people also dress up in all kinds of crazy costumes.

BGCMD workers all dressed as Where's Waldo. I guess the idea was if you need to scope out a worker who can help you... just look for Waldo. We all wore "50's Nerd Glasses" which, are also currently growing in popularity among hipsters, and I came to the unfortunate discovery on Friday that those glasses are yet another hipster trend that I just cannot pull off... Here are some of my favorite shots from Friday.

Some kids from the Clubs came out to run in the race! I believe these Crayola crayons were members from our Wilfley Branch. How cute are they?

I loved this foosball idea.These girls literally ran the entire race side by side. Dedication... Also, I'm obsessed with the little lion. If I ever have a child they will probably just be dressed as animals all day every day. I actually saw a little baby dressed as a monkey - his dad was holding him up so it looked like he was hanging from a tree and he was going "Ooo ooo ooo! Aaah! Aah aah!" Making monkey noises. Cutest thing I've ever seen ever. Also - I think the headless horseman costume is pretty awesome... but I'm a little worried about that child in there. I hope he can breathe...

Favorites. The ice cream man + bomb pop sister are literally the cutest thing ever. I couldn't tell if The Incredibles were lame or awesome...until I saw this picture. That baby definitely has super powers.

 

Dinger (Colorado Rockies mascot) and Miles (Denver Broncos mascot) kicked off the race. How lame are these mascots? I hate both of them. Dinger because he's a big fluorescent, purple dinosaur, and Miles because he's terrifying.

And of course... some obligatory photos of me being awkward.

a penny post

Another Penny post... YES! It IS another Penny post. Because Penny is my dog and I love her. Jim has been on vacation all this week and I have been isolated from other humans, relying solely on the interaction of my cherished companion, Miss Pennington. But I don't need to justify myself! This is my blog and I do what I want!

And I WANT to show you this picture from last night. Deal with it.

Can I pleeeeeeeeeeease come on the bed now? Pleeeeeeeease?

the always admirable, bill murray

Bill Murray in Los Angeles on Saturday, October 16th. He was accepting an award at the Scream Awards for Zombieland - which won Best Horror Movie. Bill never disappoints. And, quite frankly, neither does Zombieland.

fluorescent man

Today at work I have been working on the next e-newsletter. My headline of choice is “It’s a fun and exciting fall, packed with activities for us all!” I’m amazed at how naturally cheesy I am without even trying.

The newsletter is basically an announcement of all the activities going on in October that anyone can attend and no one will. Next Thursday, all the Clubs will have an open house to celebrate “Lights on Afterschool” – a program that works to ensure that children nationwide will have access to afterschool programming.

To accompany this article I’ll be including the official 2010 Lights on Afterschool poster. While visiting their website this afternoon to find a .jpg of the poster, I came across the gallery of poster runner-ups. Incorporated in the majority of the posters (due to the “Lights On” theme) are light bulbs. Light bulb superheroes, light bulb suns, intense, zooming all around light bulbs… light bulbs.

What’s interesting about all of this is, as I observed poster after poster, I realized something was off. It was the way the kids were drawing the light bulbs. In the majority of the posters, light bulbs were represented as little, swirly lines – energy efficient light bulbs – not the big yellow circle with a black square base that I drew when I was little. How crazy is that?

 vs.    

If you’re a 7-year-old and you’re going to draw a light bulb, it’s probably going to look like a yellow poop spiral vs. a hot air balloon. Weird, right?

And that got me thinking…If I walk into a grade school right now and ask a kid to draw me a telephone, what are the chances it has a swirly chord attached to it (like I used to draw). How about a television? Obviously there won’t be an antenna attached, but is a second grader going to attempt a flat screen? And how the heck do you even draw a flat screen? And how old am I that this is even a blog post? At least I know what a blog is though... not dying yet.

the great blue bear heist

Today at the office I'm working on wrapping up everything from the raffle. Recycling unnecessary tickets that took me 5 hours to sort, filing away documents that will be helpful for next year's raffle that isn't happening... you know, important stuff.

I came across an empty blue bear box, and the mere sight of it made all my settled rage re-ignite and my disappointment in the human race came rushing back. Arms --> crossed. Brow --> furrowed.

For a few weeks following the blue bear incident, it was hard not to tell the story. After expressing my outrage to all my co-workers and close acquaintances about this crime against humanity (and getting fairly decent reactions out of all of them), I found myself jumping at the chance to preach to strangers about it.

Cashier at Safeway: "How's your day going?"
Me: "Oh. Well. Since you asked, it's not going well at all. You won't believe what happened to me last week."

Woman in the park: "Your dog is so cute! Is she a St. Bernard?"
Me: "Yep, but you know who's not? This lady I met a few weeks ago..."

I started to feel guilty about incessantly bashing the bear thief, so one day I stopped telling the story. But seeing the empty box today makes me realize I need to tell it once more...so that it may be captured here forever. So, this is the story of the great blue bear heist.

Had we sold 25,000 tickets in this year's raffle fundraiser, we would have given away a 3-bedroom condo on the 41st floor of this amazing highrise living building in downtown Denver. The building is right in the heart of the theater district downtown - right across the street from the convention center.

If you ever take a trip to Denver, chances are you'll drive past the big blue bear that stands 40 feet tall outside of the convention center. His official title is, "I See What You Mean." I guess meaning that he's super curious and interested in all the neat stuff going on inside the convention center.

Anyway... when we started doing promotions for the raffle, we contacted the theater district to see if they were interested in partnering at all. Response was pretty bleak and eventually they just wound up donating 30 of these blue bear figurines that I guess they had lying around. Actually, this is exactly what the lady said in her email, "Well, I can definitely mention something about this raffle thing at my next meeting. Until then, we have tons of these blue bears down here. How does 30 sound?"

Whatever. Beggers can't be choosers.

So as the raffle went on we realized that we had no practical use for our little blue bears. Should we copy travelocity and have the blue bear do funny things around the city like drink coffee and hail cabs? Should we do some crazy Facebook campaign where the blue bear makes all our raffle announcements? Say your favorite thing about downtown Denver and win a blue bear! All lame.

So... for a few months we sat on these blue bears, until one day the condo prize-building invited us to set up a booth at an open house they were doing. I figured I'd haul the box of blue bears down there, and if anyone purchased a raffle ticket at the open house event, they could have a blue bear. Buy a $100 ticket - you could win a condo (plus a million other prizes), you support the Clubs and the kids of Colorado, and hey, you get this cool blue bear thing too. Here is what they look like...

So I'm all set up at the open house - next to Jamba Juice who was giving away free smoothies and as such was 98 percent more popular than me. People would grab a free Cliff Bar at the Cliff Bar booth... mosey over to claim their mango madness and then, with giant, satisfied grins, they'd stroll to my booth...

Once they laid eyes on our neatly fanned brochures and pictures of poor, hispanic kids, they'd avert their eyes in a geez... way to ruin my day, kind of way - but a few sips of free smoothie later all would be right again.

Sitting in a booth where no one wants to talk to you unless you're giving them something shiny or something they can eat is excruciating.

I tried to lure people over by displaying two of the blue bears on either side of my brochures. This was a mistake. Not two minutes after the blue bears were out on the table I was approached by her.

Her: (with a slight foreign accent... Italian? Greek? something around there) Oooo! Blue bears! How cute!
Me: Ah yes, I know! Everyone loves the blue bears.
Her: I want one.
Me: Excellent! Well, I'm giving away blue bears to anyone who purchases a ticket today for the raffle. You can win a condo here, and the proceeds support Clubs throughout Colorado.
Her: (expression falling) I don't want to buy a ticket. I already live here.
Me: Well, actually, if you win the grand prize you can choose between the condo or $1 million cash! We also have a number of cash prizes, trips to Italy and China, two cars, a whole bunch of stuff! (smiling, grinning)
Her: I don't want to buy a ticket. I already live here. I want a blue bear.
Me: Well, unfortunately, I can only give blue bears to people who buy tickets.
Her: (glares. storms off.)

She was a woman in her mid-fifties with a cute little blond-graying bob. She was wearing an adorable gray perfect-for-Sunday-outings cotton dress that I envied, and had a really pretty pink lipstick on. She was totally entitled, and an utter bitch. Five minutes later she came back with the building's Project Manager in tow.

Her: (pointing accusingly at me) She won't let me have a blue bear.
James: (project manager) (gives confused look)
Me: (sighs) I'm giving blue bears to anyone who purchases a raffle ticket today. (we then go through above conversation...again)
James: (to her) Well, you know, if you purchase a ticket you'll be helping a good cause, and then you can have a bear!
Her: I don't want to buy a ticket. I just want the bear.
Me: Oh! You know what! I do remember hearing that the convention center (reminder: convention center directly across the street) has these blue bears for sale for $18.99.
Her: (pointing at bear on table) I want that one.

She now turns to James and makes puppy dog eyes.

Her: Remember a couple of months ago? My husband was interviewed by the paper about living here and he gave a great review? Well, I never got anything for that.
James: Yes, I do remember that and that was really really nice.
Her: Well, I never got anything from that, and now I want this blue bear.
Me: (chiming in) I'll tell you what, you don't have to buy a ticket. You can just make any donation to the Clubs and I'll give you one.
Her: No! I don't want to. I just want a blue bear. (she makes a pout face and storms off with her third free jamba juice)

For the next hour I sat and thought about the interaction. Was this lady, who clearly is wealthy to be living in this particular building in the first place, really trying to get me, a poor little nonprofit worker, to give her a blue bear for nothing? When she could just walk across the street and get one herself? And, how does the whole "my husband was interviewed by the paper so I need a blue bear" theory compute? I was still mulling the whole situation over when she returned two hours later...

Her: (approaches with an empty Nieman Marcus bag) I'm here for my blue bear.
Me: Okay, well, I have a ton of people buying tickets, so again, unless you buy a ticket or make a donation I can't give you one.
Two ladies approach on my other side: Can you tell us a little bit about the raffle?
Me: (tell the two nice ladies about the raffle. they take more information and move on)

I turned around to re-address her, but she is gone. I look down at the table and find that I no longer have two blue bears displayed on the table. One, violated-looking blue bear stands alone next to the brochures.

Me: OH MY GOD! SHE STOLE A BLUE BEAR! (I shouted...in absolute disbelief)

....Now... I'll let you come to your own conclusions about what type of woman steals from a nonprofit that helps children. I don't need to go there. I'll also let you come to your own conclusions about what type of karma results from this situation. I just wanted to tell you the story so that you know that people like that do exist, and they are rotten, and that somewhere in this world there is a blue bear unlawfully peering out of cute lady's window, curious about how exactly it got there...

lazy bones

Never in my life have I wanted to be a dog more than I did this morning. One of the things I miss the most about St. Louis are the house-shaking thunderstorms we would get in the spring and fall. Very rarely does it rain in Denver, and when it does, it is sporadic and relatively gentle. Sure, we might get a roll of thunder here or there, but never the kind of electric storm that sent metal pushpins flying from my walls in college. Now that was a serious thunderstorm.

The last few days have brought the kind of fall weather that makes me love the fall. Dark mornings full of hard rain - perfect for sleeping. Unfortunately I have not been able to enjoy it as I've been working like a dog lately. Speaking of the phrase "working like a dog," I call shenanigans.

Every morning, Jim gets up before me, goes into the bathroom and turns on the shower. When Penny hears the water running she comes and stands on his side of the bed, ears raised, eyes on the door. The moment the bathroom door is closed and she is sure he's not coming back, bam, she's up in the bed. I like it because she's cozy. Here is an example of us being cute.

I know, right?

Anyway, most mornings I like it. She is super warm and also has a very distinct snore that I've found to be soothing. Usually I get up an hour later, she comes and hangs out on the bathroom floor, and I can complain to her about my upcoming day. But, this morning, the betch stayed in bed.

It was still pitch black when I got up, the room was cool and it was coming down outside. Perfect sleeping weather. It took all I had to peel myself out of bed and drag my monster me to the bathroom. I showered, got dressed, fixed myself up, and 40 minutes later, I went back into the bedroom to find her still snoring in bed with her head on the pillow, underneath the covers.

Totally rude. She'll pay for it today though. No peanut butter in her KONG or any good girl treats.

our hound, the hussy

On September 29th I took Penny to the vet for the first time. This is not a case of puppy neglect - let me explain...When we got Penny back in February, via an extremely shady deal that took place in the dark outside of Buckley Airforce Base, her previous owners straight up skipped town before sending us her vet records. In an effort not to over-vaccinate, the vet said we should wait until our girl was a year and a half, and then bring her in for her next round of shots. 

September 15th marked the 18 month mark, and Penny went to the vet. Last week, however, poor poor Pens was not feeling well. All week she was moping around and whimpering. She wouldn't get up from bed in the morning, and she kept trying to fake pee when I'd take her outside. And, grossest of all, her... um... vajay... seemed to be swollen and leaking goo. I figured she'd picked up some fatal disease at the vet, and every day I'd come home from work expecting to find a dead dog.

On Thursday I called the vet and explained her symptoms. The vet said it was best to bring her in. I, of course, take this doubly as a sign that the dog was dying.

I couldn't get her an appointment before Saturday, and even worse, I had to work a wedding that day all day. So, I relentlessly pestered and poked Jim until he promised me he'd take her in to see the vet first thing that morning. 

When I woke up Saturday, I was pretty sure she was on the verge of death, so I snapped a picture. This is what she looked like...

Yes, she is laying on my two favorite pillows and my Anthropologie comforter...

However, the following conversation took place via text messaging on Saturday morning during the course of the wedding ceremony in Colorado Springs...

Me (10:01 a.m.): Please tell me you are up and at the vet. Is Penny ok?
Jim (10:06 a.m.): I am. PetSmart is the worst place to take a dog.
Jim (10:22 a.m.): Lesbian vets might be my favorite. "Yeah, my name is TJ and I just like cats. Whats up?"
Jim (10:31 a.m.): Doc will see her soon. It sounds like nothing... 
Jim (10:37 a.m.): Fucking heat cycle. Lame. Might have a bladder infection. Lame. Lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame.
Me (10:37 a.m.): Gross. And, no way. Show the doctor her swollen coochie. Call it a vulva.
Jim (10:38 a.m.): It's normal. Dog just wants some sex.
Me (10:39 a.m.): Grooooooooooosssssssss
Jim (10:40 a.m.): Not cheap to tell you your dog is a horny slut. She better have something wrong.
Me (10:41 a.m.): How much?
Jim (11:12 a.m.): Enough. Still here. I want imos so bad.
Me (11: 22 a.m.): A fly just died on me in church. On a scale of one to ten how screwed am I?
Jim (11:23 a.m.): Zero. Flies are terrible.

And that's the story of the first time we found out Penny is in heat... and how I got Jim to say "vulva" to a stranger.

mema's thank you cards

I am guilty of re-posting this from the wedding planning website that I blog for. This was this week's photo of the week for the Classic Creations blog, but I love this photo so much I had to post it here!

While rummaging through old photos, I came across one of my favorites. A while ago one of my aunts discovered a box full of extra thank you notes from my grandma and grandpa's wedding. My grandparents had both recently moved to the United States and were living in New York where they met and were married. My grandma, "Mema," was born and raised in Dungannon, Ireland, and my grandpa was from Dunfermline in Scotland.

They tied the knot at St. Sebastian's Church in Queens, New York in February, 1956. Weren't they a lovely pair? I love everything about this photo - the dainty bows on her dress, her crown, the major 1950s haircut on him, and even the font on the perfect message at the bottom. I'm sure they had a beautiful wedding.

Here is another photo of the pair - I don't have a clue what it's from, but I'm going to secretly start dressing in the same colors as Jim so we can attempt to be this cute.

a favorite thing

This is my favorite thing from the Renegade craft fair. I want to frame it and put it on my nightstand.

@ friendsagain

12-minute jam to start the morning

Lately I've been listening to WAKE UP!, the collaboration album of John Legend + The Roots that covers vintage, socially conscious songs from the 1960s. It rules. Funky, soulful, gritty... My favorite song on the album is "I Can't Write Left Handed." The song was originally written by Bill Withers, and is about a Vietnam war vet who has returned home with no arm after being shot. John Legend has a new fan.

side note: stereo mc is genius

I have the song "Connected" in my head. I just looked up the lyrics and realized that this is literally the entire song:

Something ain't right

I'm gonna get myself I gonna get myself gonna get myself connected

I ain't gonna go blind for the light which is reflected

I see thru you, I see thru you

I see thru you, I see thru you

 
Really? Five lines of lyrics and you've written a classic that will have a home on my iPod forever. Amazing! Genius!

time to purge the ole bathroom stock

So, still on the heels of my "Oh, I smell so good, here are all my favorite products" post comes today's video post.

I got an e-mail today from Clean Water Action. About a month or so ago this girl knocked on my door. I'd just gotten home from work, I was exhausted, it was a million degrees outside, and here is this poor girl, dripping in sweat, still working, and all she wants is to talk about trying to get clean water for the citizens of Denver.

I, myself, had recently been doing some door to door street team work as well - peddling Raffle brochures and fliers to any restaurant, shop, or coffee house who would talk to me. So, I knew her pain, I liked her cause, I gave her a glass of water... and then we talked about how that glass of water could give her cancer. Needless to say, I was sold.

But I digress... I signed up for their e-mail updates, and I received my first one today. Informative, and chalk full of the unnecessary daily doses of fear and panic that I give myself every day. Usually I stick to episodes of CSI which lead to extreme paranoia of being killed in a drive by whenever I walk around my suburban neighborhood... but today's video is just enough to make me go home and throw away everything I have in my shower. Although, I'm sure the damage is probably already done. Oye.

a miraculous day at the renegade handmade craft fair

Well, the Renegade Craft Fair was a major success. I kept looking around in disbelief thinking, this is blogs come to life! And seriously, it was. So many talented artists turned out for the event, offering oodles of goodies for the eye to oogle over.

Unfortunately, I was on a budget. The kind of budget that requires you buy nothing...except a few tasty beverages that makes watching your friends snatch up the cutest of the craft fair somewhat manageable. However, the fair was sponsored by Goose Island brewery as well as Lulu B. Wine...so I was doing just fine. 

We found the Renegade Handmade store! I'm not totally sure what the intention was here, but I believe they had hired this man and his twirling ballerina-thing to stand outside the store and...freak everyone out? Please note the look of concern on the man's face standing to the far left. Trust me when I say, everyone was equally as confused. Basically, this dude's shtick was to crank a lever so the doll inside would spin. There was kind of music box music playing, but... not really. Twistedman would talk to Doll and say things like, "Why! Don't you look lovely today! What did you have for breakfast this morning? Don't feel like talking? I understand..." I'm pretty sure he has at least eight girls locked up in his basement. Moving on...

We were feeling a little rough from the night before. Staying up until 5:00a.m. at 25 years old is not an easy feat (wah). So, while Whitney took a moment to, ahem, say hello to her ole pal Ralph, we popped a seat on an outdoor patio, enjoyed some refreshments and some spinach artichoke dip, and were able to people watch the hipsters at the craft fair to the left, and the meat-head, drunken college kids watching Saturday football in the bar to our right. A nice medium.

Okay, I'll address it - this is pretty creepy of me. But! It was also pretty cute, and their mom's were right there and they were totally fine with me snapping pics of their insane children. This moment right here is the reason that I never want, and only want to have boys. 

One of the booths was an artist who solely made pretty tents. Why? Not sure, but I think it has something to do with cute craft fair moms who have peanut butter stained sticky children and just want something pretty in their house... if it has to be yet another toy. Regardless, the tents were totally cute, and these two little ginger babies totally agreed. Running from tent to tent screaming, "I wanttogoto the udder one!" these boys had a terrifying amount of energy, and from the look of sheer defeat and exhaustion on their mothers' faces, it was clear they were both about five minutes away from lugging giant tents back to their minivans. Poor dears.

Natalie found a vendor for life...and, I must say, it's a good call. Natalie was drawn to thief & BANDIT upon first sight. You stick a half shirt in the front of your booth, and the Natalies of the world with come arunnin. But sincerely, theif & BANDIT is awesome. All handprinted fabrics, handmade into intricate bracelets, necklaces, you name it. At first, Natalie was unable to walk away without the halfshirt and the bracelet...upon which Brenna's eyes fell and desired one of her own. So we returned, Brenna got her bracelet (which was awesome) and then Natalie bought a headband. Well worth it, ladies! I only wish I'd have had enough money for a necklace of my own.

I loved these precious little plushes. These sad cheeseburgers were made by Steff Bomb and not too pathetic-looking to actually want to eat. And, for some reason, they remind me of Cabbages and Kings. But! Steff Bomb has so many of these cute little guys - sad teeth, happy tacos, grinning banjos and chain saws...

Perhaps the last thing we were expecting on our wholesome, friend-filled day at the craft fair was a booth filled with stuffed genitalia. I can't tell you why the people at the Prick Cushion do what they do, but I can tell you that if I hadn't had a few drinks in me I would not have had enough courage to venture in there. Actually, it took me a solid three minutes to figured out exactly what these little guys were. Cue red faces.