The San Francisco Treat

This time tomorrow I'll be at the Green Tortoise Hostel in the heart of San Francisco. What will preceed this is a trip on an airport shuttle, a haul on Caltrain from San Jose to San Fran, a stint on a Muni bus, and a short huff to the Green Tortoise. I can't wait!

As is tradition for me, here is my inagural photo, pre-trip. See ya when I get back!

Papas Fritas

Life with a Super Sniffer is never easy. Those of us both blessed and cursed with an oddly strong sense of smell are always the first to notice a fart, or a field of flowers, or a dead skunk coming up in 5...4...3...2...there it is. We can also detect if your large aunt Sally has been passing out hugs to her favorite nephew, or if your grandma is making her famous salmon croquettes, or if that skanky girl at your work who still thinks wearing Loves Baby Soft is "neat-oh" has been hanging around your cubicle again....

But let me get to the point.

On Mondays it has become my habit to stop in for a pint or two at The Londoner in Addison after work. No, I'm not turning into Faye Dunaway's dear old barfly (I would have mentioned Micky Rourke instead, but everyone gets so darn sad when they are asked to ponder Mickey Rourke), rather I'm killing time between the end of my workday and the beginning of my metalsmithing class down the street at the Craft Guild.

This past Monday I had gone to Payless ShoeSource to get some cheap flats I could wear around town for my upcoming trip to San Francisco. I found these:



Cute, I know. And super cheap - like around 12 dollar something. So I'm wearing them on Monday evening as I eat my bread pudding, sip my Blue Moon (with orange!), and read Laurie Notaro's The Idiot Girls' Action-Adventure Club when I notice a smell. I think to myself, well that's not exactly a British smell, now is it? The guys around me are just drinking beer. One of them looks like he emptied the tap on his own, and one of them is older than the Garden of Eden, but none of them is eating anything. So why do I smell McDonald's french fries??

I look around, shift my legs so that now my left leg is crossed and propped up on my right knee. Dangit, there it is again - not Wendy's, not Burger King, but McFreakinDondald's. Then I realize. It's me. Better yet, it's my brand spankin' new 12 dollar something shoes.

My new shoes smell like McDonald's french fries. Well, alright then. What's a girl to do but keep munching on her bread pudding...la-dee-da-hope-no-one-else-notices...

Green With Envy

What a day! I need not one, but five beers please. Gonna meet my girl Laura at The Dubliner tonight to de-stress my work week. Let's hope the crusty old Irish regulars will be there to help pay my tab of Harps and Blue Moons (with orange slices, of course!). By then I'll have digested the ginormous Greek salad I had for lunch. (Went to Ziziki's on Travis Street and ate way too much feta and artichoke hummus. Wait...that's impossible.) On top of it all, I am so incredibly sore from last night's bout of kung fu. Instructor Goode kicked my patooty with round after round of the first 16-point form: bow-salute-down block-front kick-male punch-lather, rinse, repeat. I actually strained my hamstring, possibly pulled it a bit, about halfway through the exercises. But good ol' sir kept saying "Again," and I took it. I made it through and altho I can barely walk today, I feel great. I got to where I was doing the form without even thinking about what move came next. Once I started looking forward rather than at my feet, my body sort of took over, my kicks became a lot higher and stronger, and my balance was excellent. But enough about me. Let's talk about me...and my new sweaters! My mom and I lunched at Northpark yesterday. Rather than our usual tromp through Nordstrom's shoe department, we cut through Barney's. She kept making purple dinosaur jokes and in between giggles I asked her not to be such a peasant. I fell in love with a top that I can actually afford ($68) and I'm considering going back. It's cute and hip, a little gray off-the-shoulder number with a grassy print - perfect for my upcoming San Fran trip with my cousin, Jennifer, who always looks like a million bucks. Barney's Radioactive Back to the Future dress After eyeballing the creepy headless, handless mannequins at Barney's, my mom and I headed to my mecca, Anthropologie, where I exchanged a skirt for two sweaters. One is a knitted moss green, over-the-shoulder turtleneck, and the other is a sexy librarian-style cardigan with ribbon and a fitted waist. Sadly, I can't show you the sweaters, but here are two things that are on my Anthropologie wish list. Buy them for me, won't you? Gee, I love you. Wildflower Cardigan, $128, size M Wool Finch Skirt, $128, size 6

The Ballad of Bjorn Borg

I don't know why, but I think of of boyfriend, Jason, every time Bjorn Borg comes up. Maybe because he first pointed out who he was to me - the headband, blond hair, and all. Anywhoodle, I super love love love this band, Pernice Brothers, who have a song called the "Ballad of Bjorn Borg." Every song they do is fantastic, and yes they are better than Wilco. (Yeah, I said it.) I first heard them on the super awesome wonderful fantastic Gilmore Girls soundtrack, Our Little Corner of the World. It also features Yo La Tengo, The Ramones, Bjork, XTC, The Shins, and Black Box Recorder (a favorite of mine). Here, listen to this:

Our Little Corner of the World

Overcome by Happiness

The World Won't End

The Destashinator

All hail the mad Destashinator! What the frack is a "destashinator" you ask? Let me break it down:

de- to undo

stash - all those dang beads and such that I have rattling around my studio

inator - me

Ergo, I am the one who is undoing my stash of beads, pendants, and findings! Join me in the fun, won't you? Click here to learn more, and lookie at some of the goodies I'm selling, straight out of Tefi's stash!:

Oak Cliff Cemetery

Jason and I tromped around historic Oak Cliff Cemetery this past weekend. We thought we'd be checking out various pioneers' graves, however we came up some chickens instead. Here are some pics I snapped with my trusty little Nikon. You can see the rest at my Moxie Flickr page: http://flickr.com/photos/moxierev


Chicken Run


Broken Headstones (extreme color saturation)


The Happy Couple (a little overexposed)


Queue: You Just Wait Your Turn


The Regal Rooster

Bloody Boden (But I mean that in a good way because I'm American.)

One of my favorite things in the world (after mac-n-cheese, Jane Austen, and fiddleheads) is receiving a catalogue in the mail. Amidst the bills and flyers promising excellent garage repair service, I hungrily search for the following catalogues: Anthropologie, J.Crew, Urban Outfitters, and now Boden.

What a great collection of clothes! Most of them are just your basics: polo tees, linen skirts, cardigans. But they are all so pretty and colorful and every now and again I'll turn a page and BAM! Applique! I friggin' love applique! I haven't learned how to do it yet, but there doesn't seem to be any mystery there. Heck, if I can crochet a skinny scarf and free-hand embroider some fiddleheads onto a pillow case, I'm pretty sure I can applique a sweater or two (NB: Did I just verb a noun? Yeah, I think I did, and without apologies!...[Eh, sorry, Mrs. Harper]).

So I ordered some things from their Sale category just to try them on for size. If I like what I get, I'm splurging on non-Sale items *gasp*, starting with this. (It's $198 so I may have to donate a kidney or brain cells or something equally expendable):



They call it "fabulous," I call it "freakin' awesomely fabulous." In my mind's eye I can see me ambling down Bishop Street and Eighth with my super fabulously awesome tartan bag, looking a tad Mary Poppins-ish if she'd had a bit of flair stuffed into her magical tote along with that crazy weird flamingo umbrella.

Browsing the Boden website I came across the history and bio of Johnnie Boden, the guy who started this whole thing. Then, I came across this. It was almost, almost, better than my morning cup of coffee. Read here: http://www.bodenusa.com/johnnie/letters.asp

So here are the things I purchased. Let's see how they turn out, shall we?


Embellished Cardigan


Printed Trim Henley (Who's Henley anyway?)


Jersey Wrap

The Art of Fiddleheads

I gave you guys an intro to my favorite green thing (after Kermit): the fiddlehead. Now I want to share with you some great fiddlehead images and art pieces I've found while trolling the dusty hallways of Google and etsy:


fellow Etsy seller


Hans Van De Bovenkamp


Harry McDaniel


Barry van Dusen


Dichromatic Fiddleheads II, Vanna Lam


from Quilters Guild of Arlington (TX)

Coming Soon: I recently embroidered some free-hand fiddlehead designs onto sage green pillow cases. I'll post photos soon as I can!