Cooler than You: Stupid Things I Say and Do

As a girl, as many (most?) have in the Western World, I read Anne of Green Gables  with great flourish and glee.  The entire series, given to me for a birthday I think by my grandparents, was read more than once.  I remember some snotty little shits mocking me for it.  Yea, last I heard they didn't make it very far in life anyway . . . they've never been farther than Florida, think that sinners live in NYC, and the world ends past England and France.  Odd, I know . . . as the prefab furniture I bet they pour into their homes comes from IKEA, out of Sweden, and to them that country would be A) some foreign land and B) not worthy.  Yea, conservative memories of the Midwestern tween and early teen years still have dark strains.   C'est la vie.   As those reads of Anne Shirley went, back then I doubt I really grasped the nature and geographic locale of PEI.  Though, in the late dirty 30s I certainly do.  I was ...

Two weeks ago, my bestie Tanfer and I did our annual day in Port Jefferson/ Stony Brook Village.  Meandering, lunch at Tiger Lilly (our now stand by, as it never lets down), coffee, and lots of window shopping is always a nice way to spend a summer day.  She's pre-approved the photo of her modeling the Cosmo I made her, with a zipper.  Apparently it is making it's international debut in Canada next week, as we jaunt for another conference.  Yes, I know.  Woe, woe, woe.   A conference requiring a passport.  Aside from needing more funding, I do love a good write.   And, yea, her bag was filled with briars and other things.  On Monday, as we meet at an airport, I've got a hoodie for her . . . what? You can't go to Prince Edward Island and not have a sand colored hoodie to look like a capture from a movie scene.   In the course of writing galore, and never completing enough, one hell of a Lupus attack that--well, if you li...

Friends of mine had a baby, well . . . one of my oldest friends to be precise.  Yes, that old Yankees game buddy of mine.  Ava came about two weeks ago, and they have a baby and a box from me.  Finally . . . a blog de review. So, when we grow up and he has kids--ahem now--and I still refuse to go into a baby department as pregnant women laugh at me . . . yea, I sew.   The baby loot, so to speak. First up, Erika wanted a grey baby bag . . . she's fond of grey, and the long standing joke was we needed a color Bur would carry too (and, not, ya know melt). So, I used a handful of Parson Grey prints on the Amy Butler Cosmo Pattern .  Though . . . after five versions of this one I can say I have it down to an art.  Indeed. So, on the outside, I left one pocket pattern stated size.  The other . . . I expanded it three inches, threaded 1/4" elastic through the top (but to original pattern piece size), gathered the bottom, and sewed it on as no...

Last month, as it really has been a month now, I took my annual voyage to the summer camp for nerds, AKA the College Board's read of the AP US History exams.  We've been in Louisville, KY for my tenure, which isn't all bad.  I lived in Kentucky twice, got my bachelor's there, and while it is not my longest place of residence it is the place that captured my soul for homesickness boughts and markers of oddly made binaries of identity.  In blunt laymen's terms, I'm not from the Bluegrass but parts of me are.  So, amid the mass of grading--and OMG there are so many essays in seven days--I meet up with some old friends from years gone by.  And . . . I partake in local cuisines, like Ale-8 and bourbon.  We all know that I have a long love of bourbon . . .  That being said, this year's view derives from the Marriott . . . as I wasn't at the Galt.  Did I mind? Eh, ya know . . . those little free apps and bourbon mixers at 5 everyday went a long...

Because #jennyandjulielearntosew and  . . . well, jeans to a skirt are fun and easy.  Jenny, I think, requested the directions.  And . . . a couple of other people I know.  A handful of years ago I started doing this upcycle, and every couple of years I hack a new one.   I call this one a "One Hour Convert" as it takes about an hour . . . that's with the beer.  So, it's a perfect little piece of instant gratification and . . . a good use of jeans a smidge too snug, with too high a waist, too low of one, etc.   This tutorial falls under my hashtag #ivebeendrinkingandsewing, as some have noticed this summer.  Eh, American legal ease of society tells me I need to say the following: Drink at your own risk.  Be responsible.  I do not condone being a lush.  Though, I also do not drink nearly as much as I think about it or probably should.  That being said, one or two drinks and I'm good to go on the occasions I have them. ...