This little site is so cute! It's been all over the crafty circles of the interweb lately, but if you haven't had a look-see yet, you should hop over there for a healthy dose of adorable-ness.The only bad thing about it is that it reminds me of my long, unpleasant dental history. When I was younger, I totally had a mouth like Sloth on the Goonies. My brother told me (and I quote) that my teeth looked like "the ruins of the Berlin Wall". After I had seventeen teeth pulled and spent nearly nine years with metal appliances in my mouth, I became one of my orthodontist's proudest achievements. Unfortunately, my future-perfect smile was tainted early on when, during a game of silent ball (remember that?) in the third grade, nose-picker Robbie Henricks shoved his beefy elbow into my tender incisors. Fast forward fifteen years to this summer when I was accidentally reminded that teeth are for eating and not for catching speeding frisbees. Now, I am finally forced to acknowledge the fact that a painful cruise on the Panama Root Canal is in my near future. ON MY FRONT TOOTH, GUYS! Drills! Needles! Hefty bills! I have no idea what it even involves, but I am so afraid to even google the term. I would really appreciate any comments along the lines of, "Root canals are really easy and fun! And your teeth will look even better when it's done!", even if you have to lie. Thanks.

Smelly Couch, Smelly Couch

I have not owned a couch in quite a while. This past year, I have spent a lot of time sitting on wood floors and beds and lawn chairs and papasans, while my buns longed for the tender caress of a sofa cushion. I could easily afford a nice thrift store couch, but transportation of large pieces of furniture is always complicated. So on Tuesday night, I did a little dance when I discovered a green tweed couch hanging out by the dumpster next to my apartment. I gave a certain eccentric Hong Kongese photographer $10 and together we lugged it up to my room.

Only a few minutes later, as I was driving my helper home, I suddenly smelled the smelly smell of something that smelled smelly. I shot an accusatory look at Plato and he denied being the source of any unpleasant scent. Later, I remembered the couch cushions that I had thrown in my back seat to carry to my room later. I think we all know where this is going....

Apparently, the couch was next to the dumpster for a reason. We will call this reason "Cat Piss". Being incredibly cheap, I refused to pay someone another $10 just to have the malodorous thing removed from my property, so I spent four hours ripping off stinking upholstery. Seriously, Cat, WHY?? The good thing is, now I have a chance to start from scratch with my lovely, non-smelly couch skeleton.

I would never reupholster it in pink, but isn't this one cute? I'm thinking green or turquoise. Or I'll wimp out and do tan. My lovely roommate is my polar opposite when it comes to decorating, so I will try not to pick anything that she thinks is hideous, hehe. I will be back soon with lots of progress photos.

Pants Optional

Wiki and I share a birthday in August, so last night we sat around eating naan and making early plans for the best party EVER. If everything works out, we will be hosting a glam-pop Lady Gaga fete in less than two months. There will be dancing, outrageous costumes (hopefully), and, in an ode to the horrendous Super Sweet Sixteen television show, a choreographed dance spectacle.

I am already preparing to make my very own plastic bubble dress (tutorial to come), and I will practice playing the piano while standing on the bench in high heels. If you are reading this, then you are totally invited. Unless you're that one guy at my bus stop.

Dear Dymphna

Dear Dymphna, Patron Saint of Knitters,

Do you see that photo up there? That's my hand, making a sad face. I know that hands don't have faces, but whatever. My hand is pretty bummed because it doesn't fit into the mitten that I spent my entire Saturday knitting for it. I was thinking that maybe you could pull some strings and get me a little somethin somethin that can help me with my recurring knitting problems, like, oh, the patience to make test swatches, or the wisdom to see that my project seems to be oddly shaped/sized and maybe I should start over before I waste my time knitting accessories that only Paul Bunyan/Thumbelina/Bulbasaur could wear. I would really appreciate the help, and so would my sad hand. Thanks very much, or rather, go raibh maith agat.

-Breezy

Current Obsession: Le Monochromatic Outfit

I used to see this certain boy all the time. I didn't know who he was, but he seemed really dark and mysterious and beautiful to me (MAYBE HE'S A VAMPIRE! - just kidding, I will never say anything like that again), and he never wore clothing that wasn't black or grey. Hip and classy. I became friends with one of his friends and learned a bit about him, and as soon as I found out that he actually did wear other colors, the magic was gone. But I think he was the one who made color-centric outfits cool for me.

A couple of years ago for Christmas, my mom bought me this long grey wool coat. I tell people that it makes me look like a member of the Gestapo. This winter I'm going to spice things up and get accessories in all different shades of grey so that I can look like a fashionable member of the Gestapo. I'm starting early and knitting a pair of awesome grey mittens, that I first saw a certain actress wearing in a certain movie *cough*. They are going to be my most challenging knit yet. I will tell you how it goes.

P.S. Maybe someday I will take my monochromatic love to the next level like these folks who are tippy toe on that fine line between crazy and magnificent.

Let's Get Personal

Everyone is interesting. You, you reading this right now, you are interesting. I believe it. I want to know you in the non-Biblical sense. I'm tired of talking about myself. I want to do the blog interview thing, except you don't have to be famous, you don't have to be accomplished in any way. All of you people in Gainsville, Florida and Wantagh, New York and Strausbourg, Alsace - I want to talk to you. I don't care if you think you're boring, because I know that you are not. Give me your e-mail and I will send you a set of random questions, the answers of which will be posted here. It will be fun.

The Addictive Qualities of Twilight the Movie a.k.a. Stephanie Meyer is a Devil Woman

Guys, I know that Twilight is supposed to be for hormonal preteen girls and it's really corny and stuff, but the other day while I was perusing Youtube, I accidently clicked on a Twilight movie trailer, and just like Mr. Darcy says - "I was bewitched, body and soul!" First of all, I am unexplainably attracted to skinny, pale, feminine British men with prominent eyebrows. Secondly, who didn't have a ladyfriend in high school who wrote a vampire romance novel with the exact same plot? Really!?

I just told Wiki that after we hung out last night, I spent almost two hours fiddling with my computer so I could find and watch me some bootleg Twilight. Then when I lost my shoddy internet connection less than halfway through the movie, I had a breakdown of crack-whore-ish proportions. Today, I had to go to Blockbuster and get a decent copy so I WOULDN'T DIE, and as soon as work is over, I'm racing home and watching the rest, sans interruptions. And I will dream of the day when a possessive, blood-sucking zombie falls deeply and violently in love with me, too....