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Archives for August 2013

Prance for Me

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YOU GUYS!!!!

OMG, you guys, Joanna Rohrback, Prancercise founder (as well as my personal spirit animal) is hosting an instructional class in Washington DC on my birthday, September 21. My birthday guys!! Can you even imagine?!!

I’ll be stuck in Chicago. Uggggh. If you live anywhere near Washington DC and do not go, woe be unto you (I’M TALKING TO YOU, JOHN). If you can attend on my behalf, videotape the whole thing and/or live tweet the experience as it happens, I would appreciate it very much. If you could wear unicorn leggings, that would be even better.

Okay. Now run prance!

New Ways to Use Old Legos

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Barbara, a longtime reader and fiend, sent me an email to ask if I knew of any cool ways to use some of her son’s old legos. He has outgrown them now, and even though she plans to eventually pass them along to a relative (who is a bit too young at the moment), she was wondering, “Can they serve some other purpose?”

What a great question! Barbara, I have no idea what so ever! Thank goodness these other people came up with stuff far more fabulous than anything I could ever come up with! Exclamation point!

PS: Here is a Pinterest board with oodles of other ideas!

Reader Recommendation: 25 Blogs That Will Make Your Skirt Fly Up

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Last spring I conducted a reader survey, and to my utter amazement, nearly 500 people filled out the dang thing. Of course I read the results one-by-one as they came in (thanks again to everyone who took the time to fill one out!)…however, it took me a while to get the results sifted and sorted out in an excel doc. Something tells me a college kid with a marketing major could have sorted it out in ten minutes, but for me, it took no less than six months. Things like this are what make me resentful toward the younger generation. Things like this make me think I will one day be that grouchy old-lady on the front porch, grating cheese on my chin hair, yelling, “HEY YOU, YOU GET YOUR DAMN HOVERBOARD OFF MY LAWN.”
   

Source. Sadly, the photographer is not credited (anyone?) but I love the caption, “You can choose to live your life with the joy of the front row or solemnness of the third row. The choice is yours.”  AP readers are first row riders for sure 🙂  

Anyway, about the survey results…one of the questions on the survey was this: What other blogs do you follow? Any favorites?
The list of what came out was fascinating. Over 1,500 blog names came up, about 100 of which are now added to my Feedly reader (btw, I really like Feedly, don’t you? Much better than Google Reader, I think). But what was really interesting was that many of the same names kept on popping up, over and over again. I took away so much from the list, I thought it would be a great idea to share some of them with you. Some of them are well known, some not-so-much, and some are my absolute, long-time favorites. Some are crafty, some are stylish, some are deeply personal. You can tell a lot about a person by what they read – and I can tell you guys have great taste!
Also, I’ll admit, I love it when a reader and I share the same taste in blogs. It makes me feel like we share a sisterhood of traveling pants style connection, minus the pants and sisterhood.
Without further adieu…

AUNT PEACHES READERS
TOP 25 BLOG RECOMMENDATIONS

*= this blog also happens to be one of my personal favorites. Look there first!
Now comes the fun part – help add to this list! What are your favorite blogs?

The Beauty in Observation

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Rebekka Seale is an artist, illustrator, photographer, blogger, maker of jams, baker of pies…and just the sort of person who makes me glad the internet exists.  I would not know her without it. 

I first came to know her work through these commissioned house portraits (don’t ask – she’s booked through the end of the year!) but what I have come to love is her blog. It is extraordinary. The chronicle of a creative life well lived. Her photos of everyday occurrences are uncommonly interesting and her words fall out in the most delicious way. I feel like if Eudora Welty and Jack Kérouac had a baby together, she would live and make and write and observe just like Rebekka Seale.

Did I mention I’m a fan? I’m a fan.

Rebekka started this series on her blog back in January – portraits. Fifty-two portraits, to be specific. She takes photos of people in her life and writes a blurb as to why they are significant. As a reader, it’s been wonderful to follow this adventure all year, not only because it tells the story of oodles of people who I will never know, it tells her story by proximity.  By painting a portrait of those in her heart, readers like me are allowed to see her – the artist – as a whole. It’s an unintentional self portrait (which, if you ask me, is the best kind of all). 

My grandnanna liked to say, “You are only as good as the company you keep.” and I always thought that was a real bitter and judgmental thing to say…until I started following this portrait series. If
Rebekka Seale is as good as the company she keeps, I suspect she has got it pretty good.

Likewise, and this is the weird part, following this series has made me examine people in my own life. People I know and/or love and/or see on a daily basis. People who make me wonder; If I was to take their picture and write about them, what would I say? 

…This. Hooooooo – This. This has raised some fascinating answers. As of recently, people who I so often take for granted now seem rather extraordinary, while others…well, there are some others that I need to examine further. Seeing everyday friends and family members in an objective light, and not just the warm glow of familiarity, can be difficult (we have talked about this before). Considerations like this have been a great exercise in observation for me as a person, as a friend, as a professional, as a creative type in general. We are all magnificent creatures… we just don’t know it yet. Nobody tells us. And if somebody was to tell us why we are so gosh-darn magnificent, what would that do to us? Would it change how we think and feel and treat those of us who share our space?  

Welp. It sure is something to think about. I don’t see myself starting this sort of series anytime soon, but I’m just happy watching Rebbekka’s adventure unfold week-by-week. I think you will like it too. Check it out. 

Give Me the Skimmy

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I stopped buying newspapers five years ago.

That statement will cause me to lose credibility with several people I know and love, but so be it. I just don’t like newspapers. They are dinosaurs. And they smell bad. Don’t get me wrong – I’m glad newspapers exist and I am glad there are people to write them and to read them, I just don’t want to be one of them. I’ll get my news from somewhere else, thankyouverymuch.

Apparently, this attitude makes me what they call a “culture vulture” – one who scavenges for whatever is freely available on the side of the road. Until recently, in terms of current events, 90% of my my cultural roadkill came from whatever filtered through Google News’ top stories, Gawker, HuffPo, or whatever I could read over someone’s shoulder on the subway. Like this guy.

Sure, I follow stories that catch my interest. I listen to NPR and watch an hour of news a day, if not more. I can hold my own in a basic current event conversation, but I usually shy away from holding much of an opinion on subjects I have not taken the time to research (read: everything that is not on Bravo after 9pm).  

BUT THEN! About two months ago, the quality of my informational intake tripled when I encountered theSkimm. It’s a tiny thing but it’s made an enormous difference. This is how their website describes their service:

theSkimm is the daily newsletter that simplifies the headlines for the educated professional who knows enough to know she needs more. We do the reading for you and explain it with fresh editorial content, breaking down what you need to know to start the conversation.

What it ought to say is, We read newspapers so you don’t have to.

TheSkimm comes to my inbox every morning, nice and neat, never takes more than five minutes to read.  Not only has theSkimm saved me time, it has improved my understanding of current events that I might otherwise skip for lack of background knowledge. I’m sure some of you will read it and write it off as overly simplistic, and I get that, but don’t write it off as simple. The ability to consolidate complex and confusing information into concise, easily understandable statements that leave the reader wanting more is an art (and one that you will rarely find on display in The New York Times, I might add).  

In the last two months, theSkimm has made me a better consumer and a more aware, well-rounded member of society. I’m not saying it should replace print media, I’m saying it’s awesome for people like me who want the crux of the story without all the filler. TheSkimm gives me the essentials then leaves me to do my own homework (or not). 

Ask me why sh*t keeps hitting the fan in Egypt – I got it.
How’d a handful of JPMorgan traders in London fuck up our whole economy (and why it’s sorta Bill Clinton’s fault) – Let’s talk.
Why is the justice department getting tiffy over the merger between American and US Airways – Well, let me tell you!

Or better yet, sign up for theSkimm and let them tell you.

Dude, it’s free. You’ll like it. Here is a sample of today’s theSkimm.

You’re welcome. 

PS: Speaking of complex information, who needs a primer on WWII? Oh yeah, everyone.
(I know you covered this in high school but this one is on facebook and involved emoticons. Exciting!)

The Feral Cats of Disneyland

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If there is one thing I can’t stand it’s a litterbug.

I don’t care who you are, if you drop garbage on the ground in front of me Imma pick it up and hand it back to you with a heavy helping of my stank eye.“EXCUSE ME, YOU DROPPED THIS.”

Of course, you can feel free to ignore me just like I can feel free to shove it in the open pocket of your purse, or drop it down the back of your shirt. “YOU’RE WELCOME.”

I can also feel free to take solace in knowing that if your first instinct at that moment is anger for me and not shame for yourself, you have much bigger problems than garbage. Can I get an amen?

Amen!

Living in a major city and riding public transport every day, I see littering all the time. People drop their garbage on the ground like it’s someone else’s job to pick it up. And you know what? It is. Because of litterbugs, businesses and municipalities have to pay people to pick up garbage on the street.  It is a real job. If you have ever been to an amusement park, you have probably seen custodial attendants walking around with brooms and dustpans on sticks, finding crap to pick up every ten feet. They keep things clean looking on the surface, but with food garbage, even if you pick up the wrapper, the residue is still there – chip crumbles, soda spills, melted ice cream smears, hot dog slime…you know, the fun stuff. And where there is food residue, there is, wait for it…vermin.

There is a reason why city rats are so big – we feed them. Same goes with amusement parks. Can you even imagine how well-fed the mice at Disneyland must be?

Now that is a bigass mouse.

By no fault of their own, Disneyland is a mouse magnet. And with all that litter and food residue, I can’t blame the mice for trying. Disney could set traps and lay out poison, but why bother when you have the food chain on your side?  These people were smart. Folks, meet the feral cats of Disneyland!


There are 200 of them. By day they reside inside one of the park’s five official feeding stations, by night they roam the park in search of mice (who are not named Mickey). These hard-working cats keep the park rodent-free!

The first colony was discovered sometime in the 1950’s, and after unsuccessfully attempting to chase them off, Disney decided to make them employees.  In exchange for their thankless service, the cats are spayed, neutered, given regular shots, and have access to open spaces that cannot be reached by the public during daylight hours.

Once again, and excellent case for why cats are awesome. And employable. 

I would fall on the floor.

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If something like this happened at my middle school, I would fall on the floor.Actually, I would vomit, then I would fall on the floor.  I would have done about a million things, but keeping up with a choreographed dance is not one of them.


I don’t care if it’s from two years ago, it’s awesome. Plus, it’s Friday. We should be dancing. Is that not obvious?

Move your body. Hay!

Saint Iris

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I have this one bracelet that looks like a bunch of yellow and red dice (or is it di? What is plural here for abuncha dices? You know what I’m talking about). Anyway, this bracelet, it’s huge. I consider it my lucky charm for three reasons.

  1. Because it glows in the dark. Not like freak-o-glo, like a magical, luminous glow. Like something that fell off a unicorn. It’s so cool. 
  2. Because I was wearing it when I guy tried to mug me on the subway and my bracelet was so big it prevented the guy from swiping my handbag off my wrist. It was literally so big it prevented theft. Not that the dude didn’t try – there was an ungraceful scuffle, my hair got messed up, I bit him, then he ran off. That makes me sound like the fourth Charlie’s Angel but really, it was just a three-second knee-jerk reaction to someone trying to fuck with my accessories. I suspect Iris, and many of you, would do the same. What was disappointing about the event is that this happened in the middle of rush hour and ten other people were in easy reach, not one of whom could be bothered to help or try to intervene. Know what helped? My bracelet.  It, or should I say she, was looking out for me.
  3. Because everyone always compliments me on it and asks me where I got it – I tell them the Iris Apfel  collection on HSN. They are like, Who? I’m like, Iris. How do you not know Iris?

Iris Apfel is a fashion icon in her own right.

I feel like saying she is a “fashion icon” is almost belittling her, because really, she is just an Open-Minded Badass and fashion just happens to be her forte. This woman would be awesome at whatever she put her mind to, and that is what makes her awesome.Oh yeah, did I mention she is 92?

At first I liked the look of her – I like anyone with a sparkle tooth bigger than my own – but then I heard and read and watched her more over the years and now I consider her to be my personal patron saint. Saint Iris. I don’t care if she isn’t dead and neither one of us is Catholic, I’m declaring her a saint. It’s official. All I need to do is erect an alter or something. People can come and visit and lay down beads and textiles and over-sized sunglasses. I’m this close to taking up a collection.


Iris’ wardrobe was the focus of a Met exhibit a few years ago, and there is rumor of documentary in the works. In the meantime, I’m have to troll HSN.com and youtube to get my Iris fix.

Gem Sweater Junction

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If you have a tater tot at home under the age of, oh, seven maybe, you might know Leslie Hall as “the razzle dazzle lady” from Yo Gabba Gabba.

I know Leslie Hall as the owner and curator of The Mobile Museum of Gem Sweaters.

That’s right. There is a double-wide in Iowa with 400+ gem sweaters waiting for us to visit them, pet them, and call them out by names reminiscent of Aaron Spelling television show titles. 

It will be glorious!

This gal has spunk. And balls. And sparkly things. And big hair. I sorta want to crawl around in her skin for an hour. Is that weird? That’s weird. Doesn’t stop me.

Maybe I’ll settle for gold spandex and a crafty jam.