Making Lemonade Out of Tornados

Thanks to a few lovely tornados yesterday, I spent most of my time trapped inside. Which gave me plenty of time to hide in my bathtub with a bottle of red wine and and a box of cereal and do things like contemplate the direction of my life and consider reorganizing my closet. And also to take note of how barren and boring the walls in my apartment are.

So after the storms passed and I finished off the last of the wine (no judgements), I crawled out of the tub, dusted off the Lucky Charms from my lap, and sat down at the computer to waste the rest of the afternoon looking at these amazing wall stuffs, all found at lovely little shops on Etsy.

These are my favorites. Enjoy!

From againstthewoodgrain

From French Press Mornings

From OrangeOptimist

From DesignedbyWilma

From beauchamping

Tuesday's Tea Bag Philosophy - Vol. 4

It's unseasonably warm here today - nearly 70 and humid out. Not ideal tea weather, granted, but as far as I'm concerned, a full tea mug is the perfect accessory for school work and cloudy skies.

Here's today's tea bag:

That first part, oh that first part. While the second part, acting with wisdom, is obviously a worthwhile goal for a person's life, it's the beginning, having faith in your worth, that resonates like an opus when I read it.

I was lucky enough growing up to have family and friends around me who constantly reminded me I was valuable. I was told I was smart, funny, capable, pretty and I was never ever to let anyone tell me any differently. Thank God for that because later on in my life, there were people (okay, we're all friends here. Let's be honest - horrible ex-boyfriends) who decided that they were so inherently miserable with themselves that the only way to feel better was by making me feel worse. Everyday. All the time. And so went about undermining everything about me that I'd learned to be proud of. Some of it got in, but after awhile I realized that if it was my job to take care of myself as eight year old, I'd never ever let anyone treat eight-year-old me that way - screaming at me and name calling and being verbally abusive. Psh. My now 20-something year old self deserved that same courtesy.

And so does everyone.

Even if you weren't raised hearing it, everyone is intrinsically valuable. It sounds so trite, like something in a pamphlet in a guidance counselor's office. But it is so, so important to know that as a human being, despite circumstances, despite your past, despite anything going on right now, you are worth something. You have something to offer the world that is different than anyone else. And no one has the right to make you feel like you don't. That knowledge, that wisdom that you are incredible for your own sake will steel you against those people who will try and make you feel like nothing. And they're out there. Truuust me. But their bullshit has nothing to do with you. Know better. Help the people around you to know better too.

Have faith in your worth. It's a permeable armor that allows you to dictate who gets in. And it looks fucking great on you.

xo.

The Paperboy

You guys. I watched the craziest movie last night. It's called The Paperboy.

Before I begin, let me say that I chose the movie based on the following things: John Cusack, murder mystery set in late 1960's, John Cusack, muted pastel color treatments, nice pulpy quality, Macy Gray narrates and finally, John Cusack.

These things all far overpowered the fact that Zac Efron was one of the lead characters.

The general premise is this: Matthew Mcconaughey is Ward Jansen, a reporter who's made it his mission to find out what really happened the night the dirty town sheriff was murdered, allegedly by Hilary Van Wetter, played by John Cusack. Ward's brother, Jack (Zac Efron) comes along for the ride and ends up falling desperately for Nicole Kidman, who's unfortunately fallen in love with Van Wetter via letters she's written to him while he was in prison. 

Nasty, sexy, vulgar, pulpy wackiness ensues. Seriously, there were scenes in this movie that made me more uncomfortable than the one with Halle Berry and Billy Bob Thornton in Monster's Ball. And much of it was hard to watch. Namely, John Cusack being a murderous, misogynistic dick. Granted, he was a well acted murderous, misogynistic dick - but I'd rather not see one of the loves of my life in that kinda light, ya know?

Also, Nicole Kidman's drippy, forced Southern accent barely veiled her actual Austrailan one.

But if you can get passed all that, it's actually not bad. The story line is juicy, the 60's-inspired clothes and set treatments offer a little eye candy, and seriously, by the end I kind of loved Zac Efron's character Jack. And not just because he spent a gratuitous amount of the movie in teeny tiny white briefs. Not to mention Macy Gray's character Anita was wonderful.

All in all, I'd consider it well worth the $1.20 I paid for it at RedBox.

xo.

Images courtesy of IMDB, Google Images, and tumblr

Thrift Shop

I'm currently on hour I-don't-even-know of homework and load 7 million of laundry.

Needless to say, my brain is done. Fin. Gone the way of the buffalo. It has officially blown this popsicle stand.

There is a bright spot in all the drudgery, though. And it's this supa dope video for Thrift Shop by Ryan Lewis and Macklemore. A great friend introduced me to it and I am now eternally grateful. It's about shopping at the thrift store and being fly. And it's awesome. And mindlessly entertaining. And awesome again.

Hopefully it'll bring some joy to your Sunday too!

xo.

Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves.

I am a very unsettled person, and I've been that way for as long as I can remember. My mom tells me that when I was little I was relentlessly asking when we could go, where could we go. And that's never changed after all these years. I don't recall many times in my life when I ever felt still, content, and completely satisfied.

And that's not a bad thing all the time. Most of the time actually.

It speaks to this desire in me to be seeking, always. New ways to live, new things to learn. I'm utterly insatiable and living a sedentary life holds no appeal for me whatsoever.

I constantly want to go. See something different, feel something different, taste something different. I have this fantasy of living in a little airstream, going from place to place dressed like Stevie Nicks, never settling down and claiming one place as home. You can't get homesick when you make every place you go feel like yours. If there was such a feasible thing as a modern-day gypsy, I'd be one in a heartbeat.

And that feeling gets amplified on days like today when it's freezing and sleeting and grey and I'm trapped inside. I guess I'll just have to settle for a little gypsy inspiration until I can find that airstream.

xo.

images courtesy of weheartit, tumblr, and pinterest. 

Women I Wish I Could've Been Friends With - Dorothy Parker Edition

Now this is a girl I could've sat down at a glossy, dark bar and had an Old Fashioned with. If I drank those. If they even had those.

Dorothy Parker was one of the most quick-witted, sardonic, and poignant writers of her time. She sat at the boy's club as one of the founding members of the Algonquin Round Table and wrote for the likes of The New Yorker and Vanity Fair. After being nominated for two Academy Awards, she was booted out of Hollywood for her progressive views on subjects such as social equality and civil rights.

There was an irreverance to her work that made her seem like someone I could vent to or laugh with over our mutual miseries. She was writing things, saying things that her female contemporaries weren't brave enough to attempt and often laid out her failed attempts at love in proverbial neon. It wasn't because she was brave. It was because she was authentic and fearless. Her being a woman was never used as a crutch or a liability and that's why she was seen as a peer among the literary crowd of the 1920's and 30's - a scene all but dominated by men.

That's my kinda role model. And I wish she'd shown up in more of my Lit books in school.

And some of my personal favorite Parkerisms:

By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing.
And he vows his passion is,
Infinite, undying.
Lady make note of this --
One of you is lying.” 

“I like to have a martini,
Two at the very most.
After three I'm under the table,
after four I'm under my host.” 

“Tell him I was too fucking busy-- or vice versa.” 

“They sicken of the calm who know the storm.”

“That would be a good thing for them to cut on my tombstone: Wherever she went, including here, it was against her better judgment.” 

“This wasn't just plain terrible, this was fancy terrible. This was terrible with raisins in it.” 

“In youth, it was a way I had,
To do my best to please.
And change, with every passing lad
To suit his theories.
But now I know the things I know
And do the things I do,
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you.” 

“If you wear a short enough skirt, the party will come to you.” 

“It serves me right for putting all my eggs in one bastard.” 

“A little bad taste is like a nice dash of paprika.” 

“His voice was as intimate as the rustle of sheets.” 


Do yourself a favor and read up. Happy Wednesday!
xo.

Sources for today's post: GoodReads, Google Images, weheartit

Tuesday's Tea Bag Philosophy - Vol. 3

I'm going to be honest, it's friggin' cold today. Which is why I'm drinking lots of tea and making this amazing white bean and kielbasa stew in the crock pot for dinner. I found this relevant information to share with you guys.

Aaaanyways.

I think I love Tuesday's tea bag because it gives me the opportunity to wax existential about stuff I really don't have time to think about otherwise. Like, for example, the state of my spiritual health. Or evaluating my own self worth. Or trying to navigate between my purpose in life and paying my water bill.

Ya know, little shit like that.

So without further ado, here's today's tea bag.

You are unlimited.

I love this one a lot. Not only is it amazing tea (ladies, it's the Skin Detox Yogi Tea and it's amazing. You're skin gets all glowy after a couple weeks). But it's such a simple little reminder about something absolutely fundamental to navigating through life.

In between the bills, the groceries, making dinner, studying, writing, absolutely necessary online shopping, it's really easy to feel like this ... this everyday stuff is all you are. You're receipts and gas lights and 5:00 traffic. But the thing is, you're NOT. I'm not. I am this well of potential that has indiscernible depths. I'm not relegated to any certain type of life because of past choices or mistakes or close calls. Every single day, every minute of my life - and yours too - is packed to the brim with this amazing little thing called opportunity. And it too is a well that doesn't run dry.

How fucking cool is that?

We all get so caught up in all these definitions of what we are. A girl, a student, a retail worker, a daughter, white, black, gay, straight, rich, completely broke. Or we panic when we feel like we don't HAVE a definition. I'm not a wife yet or a mom or a college graduate or a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. But even if I was those things, that wouldn't be it. Because there is no end game, at least to me. I want all parts of my life to feel unlimited. I never want to feel finished, perfectly defined, absolutely together.

There's beauty in the mess. And I've dedicated my life to that idea. There's beauty in limitlessness too, and I'm going to try and start dedicating my life to that as well.

Rad.

Anyone else have a different take on today's tea bag? I'd love to hear it.

xo.

images courtesy of weheartit.com

Runaround Sue

I managed to drag my ass out of bed yesterday morning and go running with Kyle at the park and I'm really glad I did. The past week has been a blur of Chinese takeout, canned soup, an entire pint of Caramel Sea Salt gelato, and lots of chocolate chips.

Hey. I was stressed. Don't judge me.

Anyways, I felt amazing after running, and I don't know if it was the beautiful sunny morning, or the awesome jams I was running to, but either way, it set the tone for a productive, yet relaxing Sunday.

I thought I'd share my groovin' Sunday run playlist with you guys as a little Monday inspiration - perfect for working out, cleaning the house, homework, or just vibin' in the car.

Not your typical motivational mix, but you'd be surprised at what can make you feel good AND I added some mellow tunes towards the end for your cool down :)

 

Enjoy!

xo.

It's Friday, I'm in Love

with festival fashion.

Yesterday, thanks to the advertising/marketing/letting-me-know-shit-I-wouldn't-have-otherwise powers of Facebook, I discovered some amazing information.

Fleetwood Mac will be playing at the 2013 New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival.

My first thought was, "Thanks for listening God." My second was, Mother/Daughter Road Trip of the Century.

Ever since I was cruising around in my hot pink Barbie car in nothing but a diaper, and long before that, my mom's been a Stevie Nicks fan. She and my aunt and I would lie on floor, our head against the stereo speakers, and sing as loud as we could to the likes of Pat Benetar, Heart, and Fleetwood Mac on Saturday afternoons when I was kid. And if it wasn't for my dad and some kind of desire to name me after past family members, my name would have absolutely been Rhiannon (and honestly, I wish it was).

There aren't many memories of my mom NOT singing along to Landslide in the car, thinking nobody could hear how absolutely beautiful she sounded. And her singing is still one of my favorite sounds.

So, I considered it fate that Fleetwood Mac would be at one of the greatest musical festivals of the year playing with the likes of Willie Nelson, Black Keys, and the Dave Matthews Band. And when I called her and said, "By the way, for Mother's Day we're driving to Atlanta to New Orleans on a road trip to see Fleetwood Mac play," she said, "Let's go." Because she's awesome and my best friend.

And now the planning has begun. Suitcases must be pulled down, outfits must be planned. And I'm already having a blast looking at past festival fashions for inspiration. Plus it helps distract from the cold weather and rain we've been having here all week. Here's some favorites :)

It's gonna be amazing. 

xo.

Images courtesy of BuzzNet, Tumblr, and Google images

Bombshell Bibliophiles - Sylvia Plath

When you casually mention to people that you slightly over-identify with Sylvia Plath, they start to get nervous. And rightfully so. Most people reduce her entire life to how she died. She was depressed, sad, and ended up hanging out in her oven for a little too long with the gas on.

But what most people don't realize is that Syliva Plath was beautiful, studious, and had a voracious appetite for the entire world. She was plagued constantly with the realization that the limits of her life prohibited her from experiencing all the people, all the food, all the music, all the life that the world had to offer. She wanted to marry with whom she was desperately in love, that desperately loved her, but that would allow her to exist beyond the kitchen. She was never comfortable with the idea of Mrs. yet she was endlessly fascinated by love. I relate to all of that, wholeheartedly.

Sylvia Plath also read as much as she wrote, making her one of my favorite bibliophiles. She was endlessly contemplative, eager to learn about absolutely everything. And she was tormented by the idea that her life would never be big enough to hold everything she wanted to be. I relate to that, too. Sure she was troubled. But it was because she felt too much, too deeply. Everything felt like a burn because she walked around like an open wound - her synapses exposed and ready to take in as much as they physically could. No one can bare the weight of that kind of experiencing and not buckle after awhile.

and in case you're looking to add a few Plath-inspired pieces to your wardrobe

Sylvia Plath was aware of every minute detail of her day - the way the sun baked her back, the flow of her skirt, the way food tasted, the conversations people were having. And she recorded it all in her journal. That's extremely inspiring to me because most of the time my day feels so daunting that all I can get down at the end of it is, "Need sleep. Did laundry today. Have to remember to go check on the price of brakes for the car." Okay, maybe not, but here are some of my favorite little nuggets from what many people call her best piece of prose.

- "I am jealous of those who think more deeply, who write better, who draw better, who live better, who love better than I. 

      

- "I want to taste and glory in each day, and never be afraid to experience pain; and never shut myself up in a numb core of non-feeling, or stop questioning and criticizing life and take the easy way out. To learn and think; to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love."

- "Indecision and reveries are the anesthetics of constructive action."

- "I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between."

- "I smile now, thinking: we all like to think we are important enough to psychiatrists."

- "Please, I want so badly for the good things to happen."

- "Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn."

xo.

Photos courtesy of Google Images, and Stickersanddonuts. 

Tuesday's Tea Bag Philosophy - Vol. 2

It would seem that Monday has bled over into Tuesday, bringing with it rain and exhaustion and uh, slight irritability. So I opted for some stress relief tea today. You just have to keep on keepin' on.

Some days are just a bit more of a struggle than others. Days where you're trapped in a house nannying two angry kids under 5 who don't understand why they can't just go out in 48 degree rain so they proceed to transform into tiny, hostile, toddler tornadoes and destroy everything in their paths? That'd be one of those days.

So on that note.

Here's today teabag:

I pride myself on how well I know, well, myself. Especially considering my age. I haven't clocked a lot of years yet, but I have managed to compact decades worth of lessons learned into a measly 25 years. And I think that comes from how I've learned to manage struggle. 

Every single time I tripped - and trust me, I tripped a lot - I got a little better acquainted with the person I am. Those nights spent memorizing the fibers in your carpeting because you've been collapsed on the floor crying for two hours? I've been there. More than once. And it's down there at the bottom, when your eyes are burning and you can feel the salt streaks on your face that you begin to get a glimpse of the kind of person you actually are. Those struggles and days that are really hard, where you're tired and you catch every red light and the guy got your order wrong at PinkBerry and your dad died, that's when you're forced to confront this person. This person that keeps your relentless company. 

I know what I'll accept now, from myself and from other people. I know what I won't accept. I know that I'm not a morning person and my best writing happens at night in complete silence. I know that I'm vulnerable and that that isn't wrong or bad or weak. I know that sometimes it's okay to resent always being strong and that I like a guy with a beard. I have a vague idea of what I want my future to look like and a very vivid picture of what I DON'T want it to include. I know that I don't have to get married and that I absolutely do not and will never like mushrooms or sushi with cream cheese. I know that I have to be open to failure or I'll stop learning. And that when I'm feeling terrified of loneliness, I should probably take myself, and only myself, out for a glass of wine and confront the terror. Like a champ. 

There's a long way to go, I know. But on days like today when I'm tired and I want to be in my pajamas and I'm sick of my job and worried about school, I have to remember that I'm here in my own company. And I can handle it. I know that because I know myself. 

Bam. 

Nothin' like a little insight for your Tuesday. 

Bundle up and have a cup. 

xo. 

p.s. I hereby solemnly swear to never rhyme intentionally again.

Reading, writing, 'rithmatic and a case of the Mondays.

It feels like a Monday today. And not a super, great motivating one either. It's one of those meandering, dreary, wet, yet overwhelming type of days that leaves me exhausted an hour or two into it.

Spring semester started today, which essentially means zero fun for me. Because between work, school, internship applications, and my dear, sweet little blog here, all I'm going to have energy for at the end of the day is a bath and maybe a grilled cheese if I'm feeling frisky.

It's not all whining and complaining though. I'm actually looking forward to being so busy and testing out my stellar time management skills. And I'm excited for the opportunities that this semester may present for me (cough, magazine internships, cough).

Another upside to a new semester is new school supplies. I absolutely love shopping for school stuff. Notebooks, shiny new pens, Post-It's. Something about piling all that stuff into my basket makes me feel like I'm ready to accomplish all the things! Plus I have this weird thing where I love the smell of Office Depot. It's nostalgic or something.

So in the spirit of organization and productivity and back to school, here's some pretty lovely Etsy finds to keep me motivated:

Talk about organized!

I'd be happy to do my studying in this gorgeous mid-century chair.

Any one of these 1940's thermoses would be perfect for soup or coffee on a busy day!

For the kiddos:

Retro French flash card

These adorable math and reading workbooks.

I'm feeling a little better about Monday already. A little.

xo.