The Fifth One Ended Up in France

And a little wall-love from my house this day: For delight, for stare, for walls old and new, the portfolio edition of Chris Van Allsburg's "The Mysteries of Harris Burdick," a series of mysterious illustrations each flanked by a title and caption. I spent the last of an already-tight paycheck on these beguiling prints eight years ago, and love them more than almost anything else I own. If you don't know the book, leave work now. Run to the nearest library and wrest it from the shelf. Catch your breath. You'll need it.

This one is my favorite. It reads:
The Seven Chairs
The fifth one ended up in France.

Peaches, Pits

A little update on the deoderant front. Here are my findings, for your own armpit happiness and delight:

-Alba: Sticky, stinky. Sorry, Alba.
-Aromacreme: In stock again, but lots of reviews from sensitive-skin folks saying it made them break out. Concern. Do not wish to have rashy pits.
-Witch hazel: Mixed with lavender and tea tree oils and spritzed. I tried this for a little over a week and found that it worked--very well--for about four hours. After four hours, it did not work. After a reapply, my pores rebelled, screaming "We don't wish to close! We wish to be free!" Then I would sweat more than I have ever sweated in my life.
-Liquid Rock: For me, lasts about six hours. Also, liquid = chilly pits. Liquid also = messy travels. Still smells like bug spray.
-Tom's Apricot: Smells like peach yoghurt. At first, I was opposed to this. But smelling like peach yoghurt is very nice, it turns out. Most days, it is enough for not being stinky. Also, it is creamy and texturally sound. And there are no parabens in it. Or aluminum. Good news, all around.

(P.S. Tom's of Maine, if you send me peach yoghurt deoderant, I will distribute it lovingly among my very nice readers. Also, may I please have a tube of your strawberry children's toothpaste? It is delicious, and I am fond of the parrot on the front.)

{Peaches from Martha. Martha, if you will be my friend, I will share my Tom's strawberry toothpaste with you.}

Circle, Send

When things are a little tough, or a little new, or a little strange, I find it centering to write thank-you notes. I have much for which to be thankful right now, and my current stock of pretty stationery is running a little low. I'd like these sale pretties from the Curiosity Shoppe for jotting, for sealing, for sending across the distance. They dare me to do somersaults, write round.

Ashes, Dust

Remember about the dust, darlings. Remember about the dust.

Pockets, Hoops

Since my first expedition into embroidery, I've been thinking a lot about what I would like to sew into other bits of cloth. So far, ideas have mostly involved acts of guerrilla embroidery that make me titter at the grocery store. Also, I'm really really excited about the teensy embroidery hoop I bought for Christine's swap hankie. I want to carry it around with me everywhere and sew birds onto things. These gorgeous images from A Field Journal have my fingers antsy for details, colored thread, spring.

Also, Livy, can I be your friend? I really really need more friends who still play with doll houses and are not seven.

Buddons, Bells

Christine of Pretty.Pretty.Paper-land tagged me two weeks ago. Now that I am back from being missing, I thought I would play. Except I do not have 10 things inside me today. Only nine. And just like in real tag, when I am tagged I tend to fall onto the grass in a heap and say "anyone want lemonade?" rawther than tagging other people. Then we all go drink lemonade out of straws and kick our feet. I'm sorry, but that's how it goes.

Nine Things About Amanda

1. I say "rawther" instead of "rather" because of Eloise.
2. I say "buddons" rawther than "buttons" because it's fun.
3. My pockets house handkerchiefs rawther than tissues.
4. I was terrified of escalators until recently. Now I am only a little scared of them, and only when going down. Not being scared of escalators is like flying.
5. Two of my teeth are a little crookedy. These teeth and I are not great friends.
6. I am actually Mary Poppins. Some other people think they are Mary Poppins, but they are not really. Do not be fooled by impostors.
7. My parents are very cool. This coolness involves things like riding motorcycles and always looking fantastic in sunglasses. I look like a librarian. Never will I be as cool as my biker parents. It is my deepest rebellion.
8. Last week I rang a church bell. I was only sort of supposed to. It was wonderful.
9. I do not find the word "ocelot" very funny, which is too bad. Everyone else seems to laugh about ocelots. But at least the ocelots will not eat me when they take over the world. In fact, they may make me their queen.

Would anyone like some lemonade?

{Buddon from Martha.}

Missing, Me

I woke up missing today.

So I'm going to go do missing-person things (the sitting in cafes and wearing dark sunglasses kind, not the being dissappeared by the mob kind). Maybe I will move to France. Maybe I will sit in my bathtub and sing songs. Maybe I will find a faraway beach and drink froofy drinks out of coconuts and wear large hats. Maybe I will watch Roman Holiday, drink champagne at lunch. Maybe I will do all of these things.

Probably I will be back tomorrow. But maybe, just maybe, I won't.

{Audrey, flickr.}

Also, Go Missing for Days

Today I would like to go missing for days. My fave stanza from Brenda Shaughnessy's poem "Your One Good Dress," from her sexy collection "Interior With Sudden Joy."

This black dress is your one good dress.
Bury your children in it. Visit your pokey
hometown friends in it. Go missing for days.
Taking it off never matters. That just wears you down.

In Which We Learn How Much Amanda Likes V-Day

Finally, a peek at my own V-Day madness, also entitled "what Amanda does in her spare time." Here are some of the goodies I sent into the world, to friends and swappers.

Swap, Tell

A little V-Day swap-and-tell this Tuesday. Thanks to all who took part!

From wonderful Christine at Pretty.Pretty.Paper, I received pretty pretty paperful delights: a set of yummy letterpressed thank-you cards,

a very heartful Valentine (envelope fastened with the sweetest sticker ever),

and a bouquet of red Tootsie Pops, which I consumed more rapidly than I'd like to admit (notice, there is no picture of them). Also, the Tootsie Pops were tied up with lovely red and pink twine, which held I promptly tied around my noggin.

Wheeeee! Thank you thank you thank you Christine!
New Friend (!!!) + Pretty Pretty Presents (!!!) = Love, love, love (<3)

{Images from Christine's etsy shop, here (go! visit!)}

One

First Milk turned one yesterday. Happy birfday, First Milk.

And many thanks to my beautiful readers. I heart this community more and more every day.

xo

{Photo from yanyanyanyanyan's flickr photostream.}

We Found Them, They Found Us

A little pronoun love this Valentine's Day (because saying all of those nouns over and over can really wear you down).



And here is what I want to know: Where did you meet your kangaroo, your aardvark? Where did you come across your very own rhinoceros?

Happy Valentine's Day to you, to you. Happy Valentine's Day to you. xoxo

This Bag Does Everything

It is the most amazing bag in all the world. Really, look at all the brilliant ways there are to wear it. Regard its practical beauty. It is not just a bag. It is a bag bag bag bag bag. I am a little glad it is out of stock so I cannot actually buy it rightthisverymoment.

{Pic via the Curiosity Shoppe (Whiche hase thate funnye extrae "e.")}

Sequins, Sass

Some recommended reading from this milkmaid today to get a girl out of her folded-magazine blues and out into the world:

First up, lovely livre "How Sassy Changed My Life: A Love Letter to the Greatest Teen Magazine of All Time." If you need a little dose while you wait for interlibrary loan to deliver, pop over to the NPR Archives for a Talk-of-the-Nation Sassy lovefest. The mag is described as a "proto-blog," and a sisterhood of sorts. Domino's editorial structure and "girl-world" were certainly styled after this magazine.

Secondly, check out poet Arielle Greenburg's hot hot hot aesthetic theory "On the Gurlesque." I often think of this article in my bloggy interactions, and I think you might like to think about it too: "Gurlesque poetry is important because writing about cupcakes, dresses and sofas represents fundamental parts of the human experience—food, clothing, shelter—that are often written out because they are part of the woman’s sphere, normally considered trivial or shameful. There is power in this."

Power, indeed. File your nails, ladies. Sauter metal. Sing.

Milky the Light

A Third Source of Unnecessary Tension, from Mary Ann Samyn's "Purr":

Milky the light.
Number please the light.
How long have you been waiting?

If I lie down now.
If I just ______, then the room will _____.

Steady, please.

But even with the day OFF
(shades down, light switched)
the mirror has to do something with all its energy.

It chooses you. Red Rover Red Rover.

What would Darwin say
about the origin of an ache?

Psychosomatic is a good word though sometimes
consonants just pretend to get along...

Like when your name curlicues
across sticky birthday cake.

And you have to lean over it, the center all lit up--

Heels, Cake

Today it is my birthday. I'm going to wear heels and eat breakfast cake.
Maybe someone will bring me a balloon.

Girl, Mourn

I've been reticent to post on the demise of Domino thus far, preferring instead to don thick veils and black hats and go about my business. There have been more than enough posts to go around, for one, and I just haven't many words right now; many of the right words. I do better with elegies than eulogies. As usual, however, the New York Times knows just what to say. Check out their fantastic article, here, on the closing of a "Girl World":

"Domino’s demise does not, in the end, sound a death knell for the girly aesthetic it promoted. It leaves a vacuum in the print media, to be sure, but on the Web, Ms. Angelotta, Ms. Meares, Ms. Royalty and their sisters all contribute to what Ms. Salzman, the trend spotter, would describe as a “granular” portfolio of ideas, “you know, something by, for and about them, friend-to-friend stuff,” she said. In other words, the blogs."

So dish, sisters: What was your favorite thing about Domino? What will you miss the most? What will you look to take its place?

xo, Domino. xo

{Image from Domino, of course.}

Seal, Send

And a reminder to valentine swaplets today: Please have goodies for your sweetie smooched, sealed and sent by tomorrow.

Sticky, Stink

Can we have a little chat, please? Because I am having a hard time with this one:

I do not wish to slather my armpits in aluminum and parabens. Parabens are bad. Aluminum is bad. But I also do not wish to be a little sticky or a little stinky, which is what I have been being since I stopped using Secret Powder Fresh. So far, I have tried Alba Aloe Deoderant (sticky, stinky), Alba Tea Tree deoderant (not sticky, but stinky), and Kiss My Face Liquid Rock (not too sticky or stinky, but smells a little like bug spray). So excuse me but how are we all staying aluminum and paraben-free and not being sticky, stinko? Hm?

Hush, Hush

I'm taking a page from Julia today and doing a "quiet" post. Shhhhhhhhhh.



{All pics by me.}

Swappy Sweeties

Blog swap lovelies should have received their partners via e-mail this afternoon. If you signed up and have not recieved a swappy sweetie, please send me an e-mail straightaway. Otherwise, have fun rolling about in glitter and paste.

Please pop your little package in the mail by Saturday, February 7th so your valentine will have mailbox pressies by February 14th. The rest of the rules can be found here.

Weddings, Words

Today, the final installment of Words for Your Wedding is up at the land of practical weddingness. These are my favorites by far, bar-none. Stop by, if you wish, and enjoy.

Many, many thanks to Meg and her readers for being so gracious, so kind. I wish you well in finding special bits for reading aloud, for swear, for vow. Look on tombstones, under beds, on bathroom walls, in books.

{Pic still from Toast.}