Amy Butler Rugs....YESSSSSSSSSSS!

Ohhhh me ohhh my! I am a huge fan of Amy Butler's fabric and while I was secretly browsing Burke Decor, I saw the very exciting news that Amy Butler created these color popping hip and happening rugs. I have been waiting to buy a rug for my house, keeping my eyes and ears open for something just right and this might just be it. I mean one of these rugs would make the entire room pop!

Take a look for yourself and let me know what you think. DON'T YOU LOVE THEM? HUH? HUH? HUH?

You can find all these and more Amy Butler rugs by clicking the below link -

Amy Butler

FEAR - Part 1

There are many many thoughts, emotions and fears that go through a persons mind throughout the day. I am going to share with you some of what makes me who I am, they don't define me, but at the same time, these thoughts do run amok in my head. I thought I would share some of my crazy fears.

People who know me, know that I live with huge fears. Sometimes I am surprised I leave the house at all.

I don't know if people are born worriers or if it is a learned way of thinking or viewing the world around you. Either way, my fears have had a huge impact on my life. I guess I will break my top 3 fears down and give you the scoop of how they effect me and how I attempt to deal.

1. The plane crash. My fear of flying is so great that it almost cripples my life. Let me breakdown the whole experience from my perspective.

PRE FLIGHT

The day before I have to fly somewhere, I start wishing like hell that I never agreed to go on the trip in the first place. I debate with myself if there is anything I can do or say to get out of going on an airplane. This debate turns into anger at myself and those who have asked me to go somewhere on the plane. Whether it be going to visit friends, family or a "super fun" vacation, I begin to hate to person who invited me. Or I hate myself for agreeing to be a part of the whole bad idea.

Next, I generally begin calling my parents, family and loved ones to tell them my goodbyes...just in case. I call to tell them I am leaving and I love them more than anything. This causes me so much sadness that it replaces the anger I had earlier in the day.

GETTING TO THE AIRPORT

Once I get to the airport, I literally lay down on the floor of the airport before I board, sprawl out, close my eyes and begin praying over and over again. Something to the effect of "dear God, please do not let me die today. I am not ready to die and I do not want to die like this. Please protect me and get me safely to my destination". I follow it with Hail Mary's and Our Fathers until I have to board the plane.

BOARDING

Now when it is time to board, it is as if I am standing in line like cattle going to a slaughter. I just stand, slowly inching forward wondering to myself "why the hell am I volunteering to die"? Once I reach the actual plane, before i get onto the death trap, I have to touch the outside of the plane and repeat the same prayers i said while lying on the floor of the airport. Allow me to reiterate that all these minor actions of getting on the plane might seem like nothing more than routine to the flying enthusiast but is quite actually the most stressful moments I can actually experience. My head during all of this feels like it might actually explode. By the time I sit in my stupid, small seat, stuck next to the stranger I was meant to meet my maker with, my brain hurts so bad I want to start screaming. But I don't because I realize the scene I will make. I silently endure the feeling of a person holding a gun against my head.

THE FLIGHT

Take off is met with prayers and tears all silently with my eyes closed. I do not open my eyes until I can tell the plane has stopped climbing. Now each flight is different, I have been on some flights where there was no turbulence. I did pretty darn well on that flight, minus the sweaty pits, palms tight over the arm rests. Other flights, I have stood up screaming during a storm we were caught in. Like I said, each flight is different. The worst flight I ever took was the one from Los Angeles to Japan. I began throwing up before getting on the plane and continued to throw up every 10 minutes for 10 hours straight. I shit you not! I am not sure how I survived without IVs stuck in every vein but I just sat in my seat, throwing up into little baggies for 10 hours.

Here I am inbetween puking sessions.

And here is my dear friend holding a baggy of puke...poor guy had to sit next to me through the entire flight. Needless to say, this was the last time we sat next to each other for the rest of the trip to Thailand.

LANDING

This is the happiest moment of my existence. Knowing I did not die against all the odds that could have brought the plane down brings me more relief than I could ever express. I have cried tears of joy upon decent and even fell to my knees after getting off the plane.

So anyways, despite my very real fear of flying, I continue to go travel. Rationally, I understand that this fear is pointless. I am causing myself to be sick and feel such an immense amount of stress and for what purpose? Fear has got me by the balls at times and no matter how I try to rationalize the fact that fear is only in my head, I just cant seem to let it go. Such is my life I guess.

I see nothing wrong with a girl in her 30's wearing a tutu

If you can believe this...this picture above of my darling lollipop of a niece was taken by my sister a couple weeks ago. My niece's name is Sky and she is actually wearing my old leotard from when I was 4 years old. I am in love with this picture.

There is something so appealing about a tutu. It's so fem, so young, so carefree. I wish I could wear one when I go out and not think twice about it. If I saw a woman in a tutu, who was super happy, enjoying the fact that she is pulling off a tutu in public, I would be envious of her. Is that weird?

Pictures: Ouma

How the Skank killed Halloween Part 1

I love Halloween. I loved it when I was a kid. I loved that excitement for the one day per year that I can be anything that my imagination could conjure. I used to throw Halloween parties, decorating my house in scary, blacked out walls, strobe lights and fog machines. My sister and I threw some pretty rad Halloween parties in our adult years. People came from Northern California, all over southern California and from Arizona to come to these fiestas. Everyone put thought and imagination into their costumes. They were witty and original.

But the last 3 years I have realized that my beloved evening of Halloween has literally been hijacked by single cell organisms dressed like street walkers. I can not go out on Halloween anymore without the entire bar or party filled with girls who's only thought all landed them in the same exact place...to look like a skank. It doesn't matter if the girl thought it would be funny to dress up as a clown...as long as the clown wore stripper shoes, fishnet tights, a thong covered slightly by a colorful napkin and a push up bra. And just for kicks the rocket scientist probably threw on a colorful Afro just so people would know she's in costume. See skanky clown below:

The only real choice they really have to make when picking out their outfit is whether they are going to a naughty skank or a nice skank... is it me or does it really make a bit of difference? These chicks want you to know..."hey world, this is my night to be a stripper, but I'm not really...it's just a costume"

It truly does not matter what "costume" they were trying to achieve because with these girls you can have a room filled with what was supposed to be a costume like rainbow bright, cowgirl, police man, super woman, fairy or what ever else you can think of because the the end result is all the same...SKANK! You dressed up like a skanky ho....well congrats to you...you thinker, you over achiever. OHHHH LOOK everyone...It's Super slut. Nice job!

So to all of you who have taken a fun night of make believe, scariness and endless opportunity of dress up, I just want to say KUDOS for taking this night and turning it into your opportunity to show the world exactly what you look like with no clothes on.

Need vs. Want

I, like most women and gay men, sit and dream about decorating and shopping. I have learned through many years of being broke that dreaming is a lot safer then spending. So instead of getting a credit card and buying new chairs from Z Gallerie, I browse the super high web or flip through their catalog. I am safe as long as I do not actually go and physically visit the store. Case in point, I recently went to Anthropologie with my dear friend who is an Anthro manager in Arizona. Because I do not have any sense of style and I wear the same clothes from 10 years ago, I hoped that my friend would take some time, pick out some must haves from her store and I would end up walking out of there a happier, hipper woman. Well, to my utter surprise, my friend filled my dressing room with several pairs of pants, shirts, sweaters and other fantastic pieces for me to try. And so I stood there, in the large dressing room of Anthropologie high from all the new possibilities, trying on one outfit at a time. I loved everything, with very few exceptions, everything looked awesome and I felt like a new woman. The bonus was that at least 1/2 of the items she picked out were on sale. So I grabbed all the new swag, walked up to the cash register and with a smile on my face, I told her "I will take all of this"! It was so overwhelmingly exciting. Boy oh boy, the lady at the cash register looked equally happy. So she began ringing me up and about 1/3 of the way through with ringing up my purchases the lady said, "so, far we are at $530.00". HOLY SHIT! That was only for 4 items and there were easily 5 more items to go. So I stood there sweating...almost in tears due to embarrassment and requested that the lady start taking most of the items off of my pile. I felt so bad that I some how thought it wouldn't be that expensive. So I apologized emphatically and ended up walking out of there with 3 items.
All shopping sounds fun until you see the damage done to your bank account. The one piece of advice that my mother shared with me is that you should never buy anything that you do not have the money for already in the bank. She taught me that going into debt just to appease one's frantic sense of purchasing is never worth it. This advice has saved me and I hope it will save you. You do not need to have everything you want. Learn to identify a want versus a need and do not put want purchases on a credit card. You end up paying 3 times what it originally cost. I ended up buying pretty basic items at Anthropologie that day. Items that I can wear with many different outfits and passed on the clothes that really were not necessary.
I love the fact that I am passing on my parents sage advice in my 30's :) Who knew?

A Little Taste of Hate: Part Duex

Thanks for the lovely introduction Katie. I look like such a winner in those shots ;)

So, a commenter requested I elaborate on the Pandemic we are facing on this planet, and I don't mean the Swine Flu (a.k.a Chuppacabra's Return). I mean this:

That's right, Socks and Sandals. I don't even know what to say. It seems so obvious, like the furry Crocs issue. I think a simple flow chart may help us here:

It is that simple. The question of socks does not even come into the picture. Because there is no question. If it is too hot to wear shoes, then there is no way that you need to throw some socks into the mix. I don't think it needs to be said, but clearly it does. Socks will make your feet warmer, which is what we are trying to aviod with the whole sandal thing. If you are worried about having cold feet, put on some shoes!!!!!! On the other side, if it is too cold to wear sandals, putting socks on is just not a viable solution. You see, socks tend to be a little airy, being made of cloth and all, so they aren't really going to provide much warmth. There are some materials that will produce an increase in podiatral warmth (I'm pretty sure podiatral isn't a word, but you get the picture): leather, canvas, suede and whatever other materials your SHOES are made out of.

A quick query into the wonderous world of the Urban Dictionary provided me with the following definition of socks and sandals:

The gangster way for wearing sandels. The only time you will catch a gangster wearing sandels is if its summer time and they are wearing some crispy (white) socks with some adidas or jordan or nike sandels. Shit is too GANGSTA. Old people think its gay but anybody who knows fashion knows is G as a mothafucka.

During the summer I rock nottin but socks and sandals my nigga.

I'm pretty sure that must have been written by this guy, and not just because of the spelling mistakes:
If this is the voice of the Socks and Sandals movement, I think my point has been made and no further discussion is needed.

On a similar vein, lets talk about these chicks:


















All of the same simple rules apply, just replace socks with uggs, and skirts with sandals. There is no need for this. It isn't cute, not cute at all. In fact, you look like you may be suffering from some sort of mental deficiency. What else could possibly explain you waking up in the morning and thinking these outfits are OK? I'm not going to elaborate, it is just the same thing over and over again. I'm getting depressed.

So, the moral of the story is:

Don't do this to your kids:
And don't do this to your Grandpa:

Next week, we need to move away from footwear, and fashion altogether. I have few ideas coming together, but will gladly take suggestions.

And this has been your Little Taste of Hate with Ken Wall, go forth and be bountiful.

Fat people are fun

What is he so happy about?














She looks so surprised, I wonder if she ever realized that she is the one double fish hooking her face.

What is he thinking about? This is gonna keep me up all night...seriously.

Whahappened to whahappened

I suck, I have not been able to follow up the Croc Hating blog that my buddy wrote last Friday. I think about blogging every single day but how could I follow his funny thought process with some retarded blog on zebra print rugs. I just couldn't do it. I'm sorry! He has made me question my own reality just from that blog on Crocs. I don't know if people will accept a blog that has no defined genre. I am no expert in anything except in being me and all the crazy stuff that happens in my life around me. So maybe if you don't mind that each day will bring a different thought maybe it won't get confusing. This will just be a random blog expressing the various ideas and emotions I go through on a minute to minute basis.

"I don't get it"

And by He, I mean Mr. Ken Wall...Engininja. He is a deep thinker, he questions, he hates, he feels. Which brings me to the wonderful news that Ken will be blogging every Friday on my Blog. We just had a quick "meeting" in my office and in between him using my stapler as a pair of nun chucks and discussing the meaning of his life, we decided on a name for his Friday blog..."A Little Taste of Hate". We all hate, admit it, Ken just has a nice way of really pin pointing the hate and verbalizing it perfectly!

Oh and by the by, a lot of stuff goes down in my little office. Besides me working like a frantic little piggy, my office also doubles as a psychiatrists chair for everyone who walks my office halls. When someone comes in and closes my door, I usually know that for the next ten minutes (at least), I will be hearing some crazy-ass personal dilemma or escapade to which I will listen and then offer my advice. Serously, last week when I had work coming out of my eyeballs, my office door was practically on a turnstyle. I was so stressed out that I was sweating and I felt like screaming when the next person walked through the door. And because sometimes I don't think before I act, I did scream and I looked up and it was my boss :( WHA WHA WHAAAAAAA! Thank God for me, my boss is Rad so no harm no foul.

Don't get me wrong, I am not at all complaining because these people I work with are fantastic friends and I usually get a good giggle. I also think I live vicariously (no, I did not say bi-curiously) through many of the tales I hear...from time to time my jaw actually drops on the floor. I am a very difficult person to shock, so when someone does, I say BRAVO!

So anywho...I wanted to let you know about my new Friday blogger, Ken Wall. I think we will all enjoy reading his Friday haten blogs. Oh, and here are a few pics of the punk.

Using my stapler as nun chucks

Little red riding Ken

Crocs are lame...

Hello Burrus Fans!!

I have been instructed by the beautiful KT to be her FIRST Friday Guest Blogger (Unnecessary Capital letters Fully intended, get over it). I work with Katie, and I used to be her personal Blog Admin before she left me for a company that may actually pay attention to her needs (which I kind of doubt).

I wanted her to give me topics, and I was told to write about something that irritates me, so here it is.



Crocs.

Especially Crocs in inappropriate outfits.

I was walking through the mall today and saw a tall man who was from some tech company (looked like someone from Samsung or LG, you do the math). He was very clean-cut: recently trimmed hair, nice glasses, a sports coat, matching slacks; typical corporate look. Until my eyes reached his shoes. Bright orange Crocs!!!! I started laughing, and not before he got out of ear shot. I mean, are you fucking kidding me!!!! Are you going romping in the San Diego River after this? Just going to your last meeting for the day, and then straight to the water front?

Moving on from the inappropriate combinations, let us discuss the overall practicality of the shoe design itself. Although I rarely see people wearing these in the water, lets pretend for a moment that they are indeed often used for their "intended" purpose (uncessary quations intentional as well. Please see this blog). I think another photo is in order:
Let us first observe the heel. What the fuck is up with the strap? Couldn't they just bring the backing all the way up so the shoe doesn't slip off when you are frolicking in the ocean? The tread looks decent, so I won't invent any hate on that; but what about the little texturing inside? It reminds me of those old Adidas sandals we used to pretend were cool. The ones with the little plastic acupressure thingys where your feet go. You remember them. You remember the blisters they caused, and the fact that you ended up wearing socks with them (which is a completely separate blog entry: Socks and Sandals: A Pandemic). It seems like this texture was added to keep the damn things on your feet, which could easily have been resolved by rethinking that heel strap.

And how about these puppies?


Really? Water shoes with synthetic fur? Am I the only one that is having trouble understanding the point here? These ones look like they would fall off even faster! And if my feet are cold, why would I want holes in my shoes? I am offended by these shoes, and I am not easily offended.

For further research, please see the following sites:
I Hate Crocs
George Bush Loves Crocs
The Danger of Crocs (I've seen a few of these BTW)
Crocs: They look like shit, and they make your feet smell (spend some time on this site, this guy is full of hate, in a good way...)
And in a halfassed attempt to be unbiased go here

And I'm spent!

Oh Snap

My doll of a friend Melissa sent me this picture. I told her that I like Jon Gosselin more than I like Kanye and she replied with "Ohhh, that's a tough one.... I want to junk punch them both"

Well said Melissa.

And in closing, RIP Patrick, you will be remembered fondly by all.

Run by Rating! SON OF A BIATCH!

So there I am, busting my ass, running in the trails near Balboa Park. These trails aren't what I would consider easy trails so I really am hustling and pushing myself to run up another hill. It's tough, I am struggling and it takes me a lot to talk myself into doing it at times. This was one of those days where it was hard and it was total mind over matter to keep myself going. So there I am, in my running spandex leggings, sports bra and fully covered wife beater. I am not showing skin here and I in no way give two shits about how I look when I go out to exercise...come to think of it, I don't really care when I am not exercising. Ok, that's not the point, the point is that while I was jogging some random dude who was hiking with his friend yells out "5". It was like he had turrets or something. It took me a few seconds wondering why did he just yell a number out to me...but then it hit me. That SOB just rated me! I just received a hike by rating. HOLY JEEZZZ! As soon as the realization hit that some douche just rated me I then realized I only got a 5. I'm a 5? I am not even a 6? But a 5? I am just BLAHHH, not hurting the eyes, not making babies cry but not past mediocre? So I immediately stopped in my tracks and I believe in the distance I heard the sound of record scratching. Don't get me wrong, I do find the humor in the situation but I still can't wrap my head that I was the rating target. I don't really care that I was a 5, but seriously, you are going to randomly rate some chick who is minding her own business trying to get her workout on?

All I can say is that if I was a 5 in my sweaty, dirty workout mode than I would have to assume that I could quite possibly be a 5.5 once I get cleaned up. YESSSSS! What a self esteem booster, just what a girl needs when trying to run up a mountain.

So thanks Mr. lady score keeper man, thank you for bringing me back to reality. Needless to say, after I heard my score I walked the rest of the way.

Is life made up by little moments of happiness?

What kind of life would you have if you spent all your time worrying, working, crying, pushing yourself, stressing, depressed, alone, hungry, dirty, wanting, terrified? Of course we all feel all those feelings and thoughts that bring us down and make us wonder if we can survive. But I would have to say that when you come right down to it, to the moment when you realize your life is over...what are the things and moments that you reflect upon? Let's say you found out that you had 3 minutes to live...literally 3 minutes. Would you reflect on your work or would you reflect on your accomplishments? Would you remember the times you felt lonely or the moments when you felt the love of friends and family? Would you focus on your failures or the times when you shined? Do you remember that your life was miserable or do you think of the times when your life was great? Granted, you probably will be horrified to find out you had three minutes left of your life but I think you would think about your loved ones you might be leaving behind or thinking that you will never kiss that person again. You might think that "My God, I will never see the sun set or feel the soft fur of your dog when you are petting him". But my point is, is that you will think of all the moments of happiness that you experienced in your life. I know this is a very sad thought, but the truth is though it may seem sad, I think it is brilliant to take some time when you feel you have all the time in the world to reflect on the little moments of happiness in your life. So my blog pictures are those things that make me feel SO happy, no matter how insignificant they seem to be, these things make me happy!

Kanye

Just in case he reads this...
Dear Kanye,

You are a shart in humanities underpants.

Yours truly,
Katie

Brown Baby Brown

I have been a little scurrrrred but I have made a decision to paint our guest bedroom chocolate brown.
Why am I scurrred you ask? Well, I worry about my room looking like a dark dungeon rather than a happy guest suite. I desperately want my friends and family to have a room in our house that is relaxing, inviting and delightful. But then I saw these pictures and they changed my mind. I love the brown, white and black rooms below. Have a great weekend! I will take pictures and post them when I come back.
All pictures were from Decor Pad and Google Images.