03/11/2009



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My bed companions of late. The silver one is getting kicked out as soon as this week from hell at work is over. The brown one and I have a long term relationship.

My bed companions of late. The silver one is getting kicked out as soon as this week from hell at work is over. The brown one and I have a long term relationship.

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7:41



Quote

“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life’s realities.”

— ~Theodore Geisel (via justbesplendid)

This post was reblogged from Just be spLendid....

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02/11/2009



Text

About three and half months ago I bought a house. I doubt there’s ever been another choice in my life that I’ve second guessed myself on so much. I practically had a nervous breakdown in the days leading up to it. Then as soon as I purchased it I spent six weeks acting like a 45-year-old trapped in a 27-year-old’s body. I mean, I actually knew the names of the sales people at Lowes.

Then, I finally adjusted to owning a home and still acting my age when suddenly I started feeling antsy again. My neighbors (the normal ones) put a “For Rent” sign in their front yard a few weeks ago and told me they were moving to New York. Suddenly it occurred to me that I should move to New York too. Then my friend mentioned moving to Denver. Wait. Maybe I should move to Denver? I went to Idaho and briefly considered Boise as my new home place. I heard about a job opening at magazine in Boston and considered it for two seconds before I remembered my vow to never spend another January in New England. I’m not ready to break that.

And so I’m forcing myself to settle it down and enjoy life as it stands. However, after a friend stayed at my house on Friday night and used the guest room, I decided to try the guest room for myself Saturday night. It’s Monday and I still haven’t moved out of the guest room. My dog now thinks this is where we live. Across the house from our old place. It’s a small move and totally insane, but you know, whatever it takes to keep me from apartment hunting in Denver.

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18:49



Chat

  • I had big plans for blogging today. I was going to tell you all about my sweet little brother. He turned 26 today and I was going to tell you what a smart, wonderful, and kind brother he has been to me. Then he called me tonight.
  • Everett: So I was flipping through the channels on TV the other day and I stopped because there was this one of this big fat woman sitting on the toilet, moaning, and grunting.
  • Me: Of course.
  • Everett: Right. So it turns out it was a like a simulated flashback and she was telling the story of how she all the sudden heard something crying and realized she’d had a baby.
  • Me: Oh. That’s terrible.
  • Everett: Yeah, the terrible part was that she was like “What’s that crying?” and then she lifted up her leg and saw it. And she kept being like “This was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life.” Like she’d had other experiences that were just as traumatic as crapping out a baby.
  • Me: Um. While I’m really enjoying this story, I am actually at work and should probably get back to that.
  • Everett: Ok. But, I mean, don’t you think that really what is most traumatic here is not that she had a baby in the toilet, but that her vagina must be the size of a Mack truck? Like, the baby just fell out.
  • Me: Aaaand now I’m definitely going back to work.
  • So there you have it folks. My brother. Smart, wonderful, kind, and full of useful gynecological information. Happy Birthday bro.
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01/11/2009



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I took a few months off from doing my “book reviews.” So I’m going to cover the last eight I’ve read in one fell (and very simplified) swoop. They’re below in no particular order:Wrapped in Rain by Charles MartinThis book is beautiful. The entire time I was reading it, I kept picturing the book The Secret Life of Bees. It reminds me of that. But with more God stuff. It made me cry a lot in public though and, well, that’s awkward. Down and Out in Paris and London by George OrwellI read this book because I kept reading things about great journalists saying that this was an amazing example of literary journalism and that if you want to be a great journalist, you should read it. Turns out I’m not meant to be a great journalist. I read it, but frankly I’d rather stab myself in the eye than ever look at it again. Oh well. The Book of Air and Shadows by Michael GruberThis book is great. It’s fast paced, interesting, and smart. It’s kind of like a Dan Brown novel if Dan Brown wasn’t such an idiot. It’s a book about books about books. The English major in me freaking loved it. Lady Chatterly’s Lover by D. H. LawrenceFirst: My grandmother gave me this book when I was in middle school. Second: It is a book entirely about sex. Third: My grandmother has since passed away. Fourth: I really wish that wasn’t the case because I would love to ask her why she thought I might enjoy this in 7th grade. Fifth: I don’t get the appeal of Lawrence. I find him mildly entertaining. Dewey by Vicki MyronThis is going to come as a shock, but I’m a dog person. However, I really like all animals—at least those with fur—and I enjoy cats. This book made me want a cat until I remembered that Rosie hates cats with an undying passion and therefore that won’t work out. A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald MillerDonald Miller has published five books. I’ve read and loved them all. The first one made me want to love God despite the mess the world’s religions and people have made of Him. The third made me quit my job and backpack across Asia for two months. This is the fifth. It is my favorite of the five. It mostly just makes me want to be less afraid of living. The Help by Kathryn StockettLoved this book. There are three main characters. One of the characters is a writer from the Deep South who hates racism and becomes a hippie and writes a novel and moves to New York. I can’t remember the last time I wanted so badly to be a fictional character.  The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David WroblewskiThis is the kind of story that is easy to get lost in. It’s beautifully written and fascinating to read and when it ends you feel like it should keep going. (That could be because it’s so long that you never actually thought it was going to stop.)  I can’t say much more without giving away the plot, but I will say that this book made me feel very sad. If you’re not into that, I wouldn’t read it.

I took a few months off from doing my “book reviews.” So I’m going to cover the last eight I’ve read in one fell (and very simplified) swoop. They’re below in no particular order:

Wrapped in Rain by Charles Martin
This book is beautiful. The entire time I was reading it, I kept picturing the book The Secret Life of Bees. It reminds me of that. But with more God stuff. It made me cry a lot in public though and, well, that’s awkward.

Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell
I read this book because I kept reading things about great journalists saying that this was an amazing example of literary journalism and that if you want to be a great journalist, you should read it. Turns out I’m not meant to be a great journalist. I read it, but frankly I’d rather stab myself in the eye than ever look at it again. Oh well.

The Book of Air and Shadows by Michael Gruber
This book is great. It’s fast paced, interesting, and smart. It’s kind of like a Dan Brown novel if Dan Brown wasn’t such an idiot. It’s a book about books about books. The English major in me freaking loved it.

Lady Chatterly’s Lover by D. H. Lawrence
First: My grandmother gave me this book when I was in middle school. Second: It is a book entirely about sex. Third: My grandmother has since passed away. Fourth: I really wish that wasn’t the case because I would love to ask her why she thought I might enjoy this in 7th grade. Fifth: I don’t get the appeal of Lawrence. I find him mildly entertaining.

Dewey by Vicki Myron
This is going to come as a shock, but I’m a dog person. However, I really like all animals—at least those with fur—and I enjoy cats. This book made me want a cat until I remembered that Rosie hates cats with an undying passion and therefore that won’t work out.

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller
Donald Miller has published five books. I’ve read and loved them all. The first one made me want to love God despite the mess the world’s religions and people have made of Him. The third made me quit my job and backpack across Asia for two months. This is the fifth. It is my favorite of the five. It mostly just makes me want to be less afraid of living.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett
Loved this book. There are three main characters. One of the characters is a writer from the Deep South who hates racism and becomes a hippie and writes a novel and moves to New York. I can’t remember the last time I wanted so badly to be a fictional character. 

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski
This is the kind of story that is easy to get lost in. It’s beautifully written and fascinating to read and when it ends you feel like it should keep going. (That could be because it’s so long that you never actually thought it was going to stop.)  I can’t say much more without giving away the plot, but I will say that this book made me feel very sad. If you’re not into that, I wouldn’t read it.

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31/10/2009



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Happy Halloween from The Tortoise and the Hare. That’s right, kids. Halloween can be about both candy and learning fables. You’re welcome.

Happy Halloween from The Tortoise and the Hare. That’s right, kids. Halloween can be about both candy and learning fables. You’re welcome.

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12:57



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Happy Halloween! xoxo Rosie

Happy Halloween!

xoxo Rosie

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30/10/2009



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Look ‘a there. A giant dachshund featured in New York Magazine. Dachshunds are taking over the world. (On another note, dachshunds are taking over this blog. I’m considering reeling myself in a bit on the “crazy dachshund lady” business. Perhaps I’ll look into a new obsession. Maybe Chick-fil-A?  I’ll let you know.)

Look ‘a there. A giant dachshund featured in New York Magazine. Dachshunds are taking over the world.

(On another note, dachshunds are taking over this blog. I’m considering reeling myself in a bit on the “crazy dachshund lady” business. Perhaps I’ll look into a new obsession. Maybe Chick-fil-A?  I’ll let you know.)

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14:59



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Pottery Barn is now selling piggy banks shaped like dachshunds and bulldogs. As in the specific kinds of dogs I’m obsessed with. As in Pottery Barn clearly has realized how much money I spend in their store and is now just designing things especially for me. By this time next week I expect them to have designed an edible chair made out of cheese. Preferably Brie.

Pottery Barn is now selling piggy banks shaped like dachshunds and bulldogs. As in the specific kinds of dogs I’m obsessed with. As in Pottery Barn clearly has realized how much money I spend in their store and is now just designing things especially for me. By this time next week I expect them to have designed an edible chair made out of cheese. Preferably Brie.

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29/10/2009



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Anthropologie’s November catalogue was the final straw. I want to move into their store where I will promptly begin living in a magical land of snow filled mansions, mystical mornings, and enchanting afternoons. You just know that no one who lived in Anthropologie land would ever be like “Oh I had a turkey sandwich for lunch and now I’m taking my car to get the oil changed.” Those things just don’t happen there.

Anthropologie’s November catalogue was the final straw. I want to move into their store where I will promptly begin living in a magical land of snow filled mansions, mystical mornings, and enchanting afternoons.

You just know that no one who lived in Anthropologie land would ever be like “Oh I had a turkey sandwich for lunch and now I’m taking my car to get the oil changed.” Those things just don’t happen there.

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