10.26.2004 - 2:40 p.m.
LET'S CRUISE AROUND MY HOUSE LOOKING AT SHIT
These, my friends, are four products that reside in my bathroom; they each hold a special place in my heart.
First of all: Opium perfume. I've been wearing it for years, and I never wear anything else. My aunt has always worn that scent, and the smell still reminds me of visiting her Chicago home for Christmas when I was a kid. Mmmm, Opium! Smell so good!
The black clampy thing is my heavy-duty flat iron. That thing doesn't fuck around, it gets to about 29457563 degrees. If anyone ever broke into my home I would totally use the iron as a weapon, provided the intruder didn't mind waiting around for it to heat up.
Bed Head HEADRUSH super shine spray RULES and by the way you should never, ever spray your cat with it.
The tweezers are Tweezerman brand, and if you have ever questioned whether the ridiculous price tag is worth it, I am here to say "yes, yes it is." You can really get your pluck on with those bad boys. Not that I'm obsessed with eyebrow plucking or anything. *cough*
Now, this here fine lookin' nightlight came in a bag of goodies that I received at Austin's 2003 Journalcon and recently re-discovered. I have to admit that I was not immediately fond of the yee-haw short-shorts graphic, but since it's been illuminating my midnight forays out to the guest bathroom for the past few months I've become rather attached. You go, mystery cowgirl! Yank that boot!
It's sort of hard to see the detail in this extremely silly cutting board, but I absolutely adore the expressions on the waiters' faces. I got this as a gift from my mom years ago and now it lives behind the sink in my kitchen. Just look at them, aren't they great? Zey breeng zee champagne!
I'm a strong believer in mood lighting, and what mood can't be lifted by a spindly string of cheap holiday lights? HMMMM? We strung these up along the living room windows (that's our wooden ceiling above and to the right) during Christmas 2 years ago, and they've been there ever since. I like to fool myself that the red lights somehow work with the red wall on the opposite side of the room, but it's possible the whole thing is tacky beyond belief. Just don't tell me. Shhhh. Shhhhh.
I love these mini pumpkins so much it's ridiculous. They're sitting along the mantle over our fireplace, and I think I'll leave them until 1) it's springtime and fall vegetables are no longer apropos, or 2) they rot. That fireplace, by the way, is deceiving - it appears to house the ability to produce a nice crackling fire, until you actually try to burn a log in there and reeking smoke blows back down the chimney and fills the room. So instead we've filled the hearth with candles and drifts of dog hair.
My Anne Tyler shelf. I don't know if I could pick just one favorite author, but she's definitely way way up there on my list.
This past weekend, JB and I had a conversation while pulling into the parking lot at Home Depot.
JB: "We are getting grass seed, and that's all."
Me: "Yes. Grass seed. One bag of grass seed. We will NOT succumb to the $100 Phenomenon."
JB: "Grass seed."
Fifteen minutes later, we were ringing up our purchases: a bag of potting soil, a box of solar-powered driveway lights, a bag of decorative moss, two planter pots, and the pepper plant you see here. Oh, and a bag of grass seed. Total price: $108.00. D'oh!
Lastly, my new iMac, with its sexy beach-scene screen saver action. Since we got this new computer, JB has put every single CD we own into iTunes. Even his craptacular collection of AC/DC albums. So now we can create playlists like "Super Shitty Metal Songs From the Early 90's". Yay.
Ok! Thus ends our tour! Mooooooooooooooooo.
