tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9705950539691214452024-03-05T04:54:41.567-08:00Scrumptious SomethingsMarkiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-88038838847945351632011-06-20T13:14:00.000-07:002011-06-21T08:11:46.483-07:00Ta-Da!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">On Friday, Adam and I made an offer on a gorgeous house.<br />
A 1600 sq. foot, 2 story, 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house. <br />
ANNND... the offer was accepted (without being countered!) by the owners.<br />
<br />
Hot-diggity! We are so blessed. This house is LITERALLY everything we wanted in a home. Down to the exterior paint color; and we never thought we would be able to afford a house like this. Not in a million years.<br />
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The home is short sale, so now the offer that we made goes to the owners' bank for processing and acceptance. This process could take anywhere from 2 weeks to 6 months. But we're in it to win it. <br />
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Here are the photos of the house... there aren't any pictures of the upstairs yet.<br />
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On another note... It boggles my mind that agencies don't use hi-resolution photos on their websites. They must know something I don't.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubLaAYMyUF61sTdFl71VP5A8Oe7x3pbWthiCZ4bA2i7-35MuIpGzSKcuXfOMrE7mhH5rd7p8W4yZ5nXiICXn2sPh6zA2ALKg1RIS6vM8M9T3ds8BZcln-INqgFS4CQ65GlyubaFQQmsVs/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.53.49+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLfXSwb-kr3gJfCX0QccHz_Ayjo7Xf-svYRK9poWpdBoTLpMkWmifGywt4IJoKE-HES9laEvOb7tTRMECk5D55VKZ3AkyY4JdSreOE_ZqO93YdDydaSZ0WyJdw4dion_5TNQ-SDDQQXHf0/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.49.21+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLfXSwb-kr3gJfCX0QccHz_Ayjo7Xf-svYRK9poWpdBoTLpMkWmifGywt4IJoKE-HES9laEvOb7tTRMECk5D55VKZ3AkyY4JdSreOE_ZqO93YdDydaSZ0WyJdw4dion_5TNQ-SDDQQXHf0/s320/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.49.21+PM.png" width="320" /> </a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyovGd9hHPIZ9t6y0cshMNyZBHP167TMlB4uWOm2whFWm5aR8fc8ufgYemdNlH3ma_h-jJZAZAgIrIPDCk77bI0YAlAyHy1ZKub1bKyv-hPhtcniY3sNO1HImo1o2oLqhp1MacSJCYOtii/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.49.44+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyovGd9hHPIZ9t6y0cshMNyZBHP167TMlB4uWOm2whFWm5aR8fc8ufgYemdNlH3ma_h-jJZAZAgIrIPDCk77bI0YAlAyHy1ZKub1bKyv-hPhtcniY3sNO1HImo1o2oLqhp1MacSJCYOtii/s320/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.49.44+PM.png" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4Ey5uVJQn56UVe39JvuzRgOP7C4-9i8mXcK8mrHT_FCngF_J_V-bypVcODTEN5sfw8NPBpxLCGSSRyliLR-kP5UyNj4MEF4NmiA2tQqKpa7G4V3e74sg6uBgssqx6yo_NI-X76IiKlNC/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.50.01+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4Ey5uVJQn56UVe39JvuzRgOP7C4-9i8mXcK8mrHT_FCngF_J_V-bypVcODTEN5sfw8NPBpxLCGSSRyliLR-kP5UyNj4MEF4NmiA2tQqKpa7G4V3e74sg6uBgssqx6yo_NI-X76IiKlNC/s320/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.50.01+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSmOQS03Av154RmYAJ5OqNp907MvzBsuqJglItJMkL60Jx9yp4DKsOS3IMrvpOM1Xw_j-Q56LC3QlCZ3_zzEkjkjln92DetZaL2hEUvosVH2tnSXGFqTSWm_S-7qjL8P9TC3Oqj1D8Q4y1/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.51.34+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSmOQS03Av154RmYAJ5OqNp907MvzBsuqJglItJMkL60Jx9yp4DKsOS3IMrvpOM1Xw_j-Q56LC3QlCZ3_zzEkjkjln92DetZaL2hEUvosVH2tnSXGFqTSWm_S-7qjL8P9TC3Oqj1D8Q4y1/s320/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.51.34+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXVxHCBWBw_NC86fTtHQQAB-5wZV5yqs9ddrqdEiVo6Z4IY_T8J3dJ-cdb51tLLATmmFcpeniYaOw59uAbGvtOoVC2Q6npyMq8TN1NK9h8SjGZlke-Nn8cmzp83SXqP8F53DSs8Xj5Q0tz/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.52.11+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXVxHCBWBw_NC86fTtHQQAB-5wZV5yqs9ddrqdEiVo6Z4IY_T8J3dJ-cdb51tLLATmmFcpeniYaOw59uAbGvtOoVC2Q6npyMq8TN1NK9h8SjGZlke-Nn8cmzp83SXqP8F53DSs8Xj5Q0tz/s320/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.52.11+PM.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwR91OR5FzwyzKE7njcbnypsv97DOJKpWSZoz6amTWnu0vmUDxU4qH-X8oQ6fb2wkdJq6C-1sdGZFOtonSugHeL7oZ4KYs2p7hqI0WTXkwOeuod8GBO7HOIAOZD8yrZP5-jYE0NQVHpAy/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.54.39+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiczkyudLh4rOmFw0XuCG_OZ1j1O0z2svH2ovT3IeTLmjIF_s8rfxLFCEEmEf0QHlrpPpFlXQBPUKXl7RELcmnJoZ5flT7O5hzynezK4CaRhpIqmEAl2ho1l3H_Kjb04CGqN0Qz2JBRa-K/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.50.22+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiczkyudLh4rOmFw0XuCG_OZ1j1O0z2svH2ovT3IeTLmjIF_s8rfxLFCEEmEf0QHlrpPpFlXQBPUKXl7RELcmnJoZ5flT7O5hzynezK4CaRhpIqmEAl2ho1l3H_Kjb04CGqN0Qz2JBRa-K/s400/Screen+shot+2011-06-20+at+12.50.22+PM.png" width="268" /></a></div><br />
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</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-11162117277951779362011-06-16T21:22:00.000-07:002011-06-16T21:22:38.671-07:00Oh, The Fickle Human<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Adam and I have had an amazing last few weeks. We've been seriously blessed.<br />
<br />
First, the dramatic raises. Then (on the same day) a house-down-payment-gift-check from a family member which arrived in the mail (whoa!). And finally, after a very long wait and a lot of hard work... we got a home loan pre-qualification. Which very obviously means we can buy a home. Which we plan on doing. Which means that we are officially adults... or something like that (this could explain why I've been wearing button-up shirts all week.)<br />
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It's been such a good week; but for some reason, we are so exhausted. I find myself so overwhelmed with all the things that are happening around us. One minute I'm overjoyed, and the next I find myself in a frazzled rage. My poor husband is so patient with my crazy outbursts of feeling (sometimes, I think he is interested in my emotional nature like a scientist is interested in specimens from another planet. He doesn't really understand it... but it's so fascinating!) To be fair to myself, and at the risk of sounding sexist... hormones are probably at least partially to blame for my "Gravitron of explosion-emotion." But, also... wherever there's change, I find that there are usually strong feelings hiding not too far behind.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWe7Jhz_UBH-jCu3Y3-Vg4JPGlhKwFfD6tQD-2NhWKyhl7gLNSAHp1HyaCHoV83su2hnQ8ZSumhE3OdfBObcPIJ5SYF7oSVDn45ayjiTfOAP46s3n3dZT3bDmUFFfcScpHuS0EeTW88Ia8/s1600/collage.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWe7Jhz_UBH-jCu3Y3-Vg4JPGlhKwFfD6tQD-2NhWKyhl7gLNSAHp1HyaCHoV83su2hnQ8ZSumhE3OdfBObcPIJ5SYF7oSVDn45ayjiTfOAP46s3n3dZT3bDmUFFfcScpHuS0EeTW88Ia8/s640/collage.jpg" width="510" /></a></div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-5244365802619516022011-06-14T15:53:00.000-07:002011-06-14T15:53:05.228-07:00Ladies' Day Out<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Yesterday afternoon, I got to spend some really good quality time with my wonderful friend Bruk of <a href="http://www.bruklynbelle.com/">Bruklyn Belle Vintage</a>. Bruk and I met the first week of high school as very scared (and very unfashionable) freshman. She sat in front of me in science class and her incredible, gorgeous, curly jet-black hair partially blocked my view. Then she asked to sit with me at lunch (I still don't know why...). The rest, oh dear reader, is history. <br />
Both of us have been super busy lately and haven't gotten much of a chance to see each other (more to come later on the reason WHY Adam and I are so busy, but I digress); so yesterday, I visited her and we went out for a photo shoot! Talk about blast from the past. We went to all of our old favorite photoshoot places and lo and behold!... They weren't fun anymore. So we found a brand new place where we could make some brand new memories.<br />
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The following photos have been unabashedly stolen from Bruk's blog:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga-hSU3czHx_35uzq2g-gIZ0HMBZaCEFNN51A0jHArQzbbYHQ1JEkHkBJCMnjD9rz7IqlRYznrailCJfThDt1KGzxblDmmxM-WleZxtwALhqS6mM1Ge_4YAFvyygi009CgskUCmL0KRc3z/s1600/5831441969_86d08e0f22_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga-hSU3czHx_35uzq2g-gIZ0HMBZaCEFNN51A0jHArQzbbYHQ1JEkHkBJCMnjD9rz7IqlRYznrailCJfThDt1KGzxblDmmxM-WleZxtwALhqS6mM1Ge_4YAFvyygi009CgskUCmL0KRc3z/s400/5831441969_86d08e0f22_z.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiavXATXe7DHCDdEDciFZsmKOvQKQqZHk2yx0j2Xm_rICJfNYBzvtIubTtj_RlumkSCdAVjmL9oLT-dHX63tT5uV8nfK_ozy9A52gP-F5Idp2t260sjNaa4Ow_CRg6hltvZvgKActyx-0B1/s1600/5831992720_023b64d4dc_z.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiavXATXe7DHCDdEDciFZsmKOvQKQqZHk2yx0j2Xm_rICJfNYBzvtIubTtj_RlumkSCdAVjmL9oLT-dHX63tT5uV8nfK_ozy9A52gP-F5Idp2t260sjNaa4Ow_CRg6hltvZvgKActyx-0B1/s400/5831992720_023b64d4dc_z.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOqQB8AlYDEsew7PCJE4UZQJTtGS3pBT8at88DdCs7iDRyxGVSZS2omWPfJfZIs7wtnhG63I3O5mJEdNpPK84CBbzVCzG2MnO9N5B-LnWOSUqgwYn_FIiAJPjPJnSbukbuKIkhLC3RcAbu/s1600/5831394617_f287b67857_z.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOqQB8AlYDEsew7PCJE4UZQJTtGS3pBT8at88DdCs7iDRyxGVSZS2omWPfJfZIs7wtnhG63I3O5mJEdNpPK84CBbzVCzG2MnO9N5B-LnWOSUqgwYn_FIiAJPjPJnSbukbuKIkhLC3RcAbu/s400/5831394617_f287b67857_z.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRwVsNVUWtU2oZNmWrgGKagf_ecI-Nl9BPMFfMWpFdV0Zs6X3FxDsdWjPKHcexR0r9JsWbZp-IGjKSiJM0wIVO_VZ1cmiiuMJyB9DrnjrgHr89LHzdXm4aE9Vppi0xOLvZGaStjcCK7kmf/s1600/5831945012_7a7e9c479c_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRwVsNVUWtU2oZNmWrgGKagf_ecI-Nl9BPMFfMWpFdV0Zs6X3FxDsdWjPKHcexR0r9JsWbZp-IGjKSiJM0wIVO_VZ1cmiiuMJyB9DrnjrgHr89LHzdXm4aE9Vppi0xOLvZGaStjcCK7kmf/s400/5831945012_7a7e9c479c_z.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Funny story from this week. Adam and I were talking about how Bruk has a good head on her shoulders... how she's straight and narrow, so to speak; and Adam accidentally said "She's got a good foundation on 'er" which, of course sounds like a hillbilly pick-up line. And then I started singing "She's a briiick Hoooousee." </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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And then we laughed really hard.</div><br />
</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-26779438651443731042011-05-20T23:49:00.000-07:002011-06-14T16:01:27.360-07:00As Promised<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Baby fever takes over your brain like a BORG (those of you who don't know what a BORG is... you are probably better off not knowing.) It infects you with its sly tricks. It reels you in. Every time you see a baby it says "Oh... look how cute and cuddly this baby is. It is so sweet and warm... and, what's that... it has a beautiful baby smell? Don't you like that baby smell? If you do, repeat after me: I WANT A BABY." <br />
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But I know better. I know it's cute now... but as soon as that baby gets out of my earshot, it will start pooping and screaming. Then, when it gets older, it will throw up on its parents, get them sick, color on the walls with permanent marker, get in fights at school, argue, and become a teenager. At that point, it will do the most dangerous thing of all: develop its own free-thinking personality. <br />
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I know all of this. <br />
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So why is it so hard to just say no to babies?<br />
Probably because I know they will look something like this:<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCi1_QeOFB2wtSF_G3cOlkLCTe3r656GMo5PEH4eU6s6JGf-eUtSsnhstzGrGSoYkbN7L5gzgmOls5KqXF-7J9YO8TbAAQlA48DixWz6Ubew6Xx_PKpuqmuUPbOX2HqdWrwAC0z1oTQUXA/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-20+at+10.06.57+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCi1_QeOFB2wtSF_G3cOlkLCTe3r656GMo5PEH4eU6s6JGf-eUtSsnhstzGrGSoYkbN7L5gzgmOls5KqXF-7J9YO8TbAAQlA48DixWz6Ubew6Xx_PKpuqmuUPbOX2HqdWrwAC0z1oTQUXA/s400/Screen+shot+2011-05-20+at+10.06.57+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Adam and Me @ 6 Months</span> <span style="font-size: x-small;">Old</span></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUw5T7lJLwCVXAqXB4WwUI1daXlyiuZhHjpb6VoSmYdA7EAZl890ZKFV5fN0pkaAWT8CcpR8WT7xA-xRqi5TEq1Dxe2pO2RtWKnq0sh-TMikk3BDC-275mhD-RsXUu24DcSBqz8kLb6CQW/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-20+at+10.26.11+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUw5T7lJLwCVXAqXB4WwUI1daXlyiuZhHjpb6VoSmYdA7EAZl890ZKFV5fN0pkaAWT8CcpR8WT7xA-xRqi5TEq1Dxe2pO2RtWKnq0sh-TMikk3BDC-275mhD-RsXUu24DcSBqz8kLb6CQW/s400/Screen+shot+2011-05-20+at+10.26.11+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Adam and Me @ </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">1 1/2 Years Old</span></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxiTH5EhVRzfM2UuC8IiF9Ntxza4soKVXb6fDeuSdBPv4upKjf0serkI8tUUiL3GBmiGA3pLzOjAOI1PW_jQyrQe-QwOAjstaQvqOXb6CS6Mb7DKhGsy6Ie2NYTrnFmlP6m41NB6kNhTvx/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-20+at+10.38.31+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxiTH5EhVRzfM2UuC8IiF9Ntxza4soKVXb6fDeuSdBPv4upKjf0serkI8tUUiL3GBmiGA3pLzOjAOI1PW_jQyrQe-QwOAjstaQvqOXb6CS6Mb7DKhGsy6Ie2NYTrnFmlP6m41NB6kNhTvx/s400/Screen+shot+2011-05-20+at+10.38.31+PM.png" width="400" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Adam and Me @ Two Years Old</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1yE3Kd5lQU0B36Tf3YJ80acwyfFIw-hL4QLctGcJx9xJ36rBOxsF-4wxqkOOblYAlQ_ablJ3WSbOc6DvfqaUTIlMPzYnq01FclxAui12JZ68PLpUEdihHZtL0bzDsQkJxIQ2c_4d_qz-5/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-20+at+10.31.10+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1yE3Kd5lQU0B36Tf3YJ80acwyfFIw-hL4QLctGcJx9xJ36rBOxsF-4wxqkOOblYAlQ_ablJ3WSbOc6DvfqaUTIlMPzYnq01FclxAui12JZ68PLpUEdihHZtL0bzDsQkJxIQ2c_4d_qz-5/s400/Screen+shot+2011-05-20+at+10.31.10+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Adam and Me @ 4 Years Old</span></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj80OT_qvE7B_-xLyTqlvpftsqpDM89ipTawotuziW-0cwhvZ3KzSXdS_fd14xYMzlyQF0CxgbLiQliUa4dC5OSwUUNC1GAhSOTIRM-NqIXNggxUXO7yvZT_J-6pkl3NpxmdTTVQ5kPHoEa/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-20+at+10.48.22+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj80OT_qvE7B_-xLyTqlvpftsqpDM89ipTawotuziW-0cwhvZ3KzSXdS_fd14xYMzlyQF0CxgbLiQliUa4dC5OSwUUNC1GAhSOTIRM-NqIXNggxUXO7yvZT_J-6pkl3NpxmdTTVQ5kPHoEa/s400/Screen+shot+2011-05-20+at+10.48.22+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">And Adam and Me @ 6 Years Old</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh great. These pictures just "done me in."</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm doomed.</div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-27447956299598406952011-05-19T23:41:00.000-07:002011-06-14T16:02:54.385-07:00Stylin' and Profilin'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I'm pretty sure "Stylin' and Profilin'" is a saying.<br />
And if it's not... who cares? I don't.<br />
Because I'm so stylish.<br />
<br />
That's right. Little me. I'm stylish.<br />
And to prove it, I have won the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Zypv5CUXhEAku7ddr54PKPz4v6HaypoAjRB5Y1QZ1qoU8gzr8XKZzrlqQXi8z3-EiutD-rgBRKQAzO_-e14phbQk42KmckAgz6KYsYAubl2-SVOEFjLO8k1nY10Ju9tYZGWaFsBTDLNI/s1600/stylish_blogger_award.jpg">"Stylish Blogger Award,"</a> which has been bestowed upon me by April of <a href="http://matthewsers.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-is-how-stylish-i-am.html">Two Mathewsers</a>!<br />
In all seriousness, this is actually a very big honour for me (see, I even spell 'honour' the stylin' British way... I was posh before I knew it was cool to be posh!). Ah hem... where was I? Oh yes, I'm honoured. You see, April's blog is one of my favorite blogs in the whole interwebs. It's seriously pee-your-pants-laughing-because-it's-so-true-but-no-one-ever-admits-to-it funny. She uses sentences like <a href="http://matthewsers.blogspot.com/2011/02/we-went-on-diet-and-it-was-hard-and-i.html">"...My sister told me not to write this, but I think it will really benefit you to know that it was so thick, I seriously felt like I was pooping out of my throat."</a> See! You don't even need any context for this to be awesome. April's blog is a very honest, refreshing look at everyday life. Reading it helps to remind me that, when it comes to blogging (and real life, for that matter) I don't need try to be someone I'm not. I can just be plain old me.<br />
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I especially like being "plain old me" when it wins me an award.<br />
<br />
Okay... enough with the bragging. I'm done.<br />
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Upon accepting this award, I must 1.) tell you seven random facts about myself and 2.) point you in the direction of ten stylish fellow-bloggers.<br />
I am up to the challenge. And so, without further adieu... <br />
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1. I sing. Way too often. My grandparents' nickname for me is "Little Song Bird." I walk around the house, my work, the grocery store, and just plain everywhere humming and singing quietly to myself. I don't usually mean to do it... and I can't even stop myself if I try. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMve4UzoLtLItuQ0SjxkqU0q9_DZ97irLBPEHqk-1B3aD90Xuz0sOL1if7ovWGBXPf4n4Zk8Xpm-6gs3bbYqxxu3YH8Pa8e7Rfxsj0r5rtv6xNLVuQkbZtDGLuRKnex5KE991p92Sw5SiE/s1600/opera-singer1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMve4UzoLtLItuQ0SjxkqU0q9_DZ97irLBPEHqk-1B3aD90Xuz0sOL1if7ovWGBXPf4n4Zk8Xpm-6gs3bbYqxxu3YH8Pa8e7Rfxsj0r5rtv6xNLVuQkbZtDGLuRKnex5KE991p92Sw5SiE/s400/opera-singer1.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2. There is something about trees that I just really love. I especially love painting them. Trees carry some sort of symbolism for me. Something about those earthy, life-giving roots being planted deep in the rich soil... I want to be like that: planted, firm, secure, statuesque. I want birds to live in my branches. I want to grow moss. Wait...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="325" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/18305022?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400"></iframe></div><a href="http://vimeo.com/18305022">Growing is Forever</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/jesserosten">Jesse Rosten</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I've already shared this video... but I'm sharing it again because it is so freaking beautiful</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">3. I don't mean to sound dumb and clich</span>é, or like I'm making this up so that I can sound "spiritual"... but God (for real), very clearly and distinctly, told me that I was going to marry my husband before I had even seen his face or knew who he was. That's right. I saw him from the back of the church on a Sunday morning, and God was like "BAM! I'm awesome. Here he is! Oh and guess what... don't introduce yourself to him yet." And I didn't introduce myself or talk to him at all. For another two years. And then we randomly met (at a very interesting point in both of our lives) because he almost bought a painting of mine at an auction. And then we were married within the year. He didn't find out about that whole God-telling-me-I-was-going-to-marry-him part until after we got engaged. Life is CRAZY.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2dkgIOuNknQmJRKfdcBlOzZ7RI5kJaKvZVNXo3s53miRXC9c_WHg901P_Hq-QEY_mSIIWFoHiEfqBGP2AuNJBHTdB70m7_olbLYZvO04h2m8-qUJpgrx4fHYGWwjMt8m8mmonIWogfgR5/s1600/IMG_0520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2dkgIOuNknQmJRKfdcBlOzZ7RI5kJaKvZVNXo3s53miRXC9c_WHg901P_Hq-QEY_mSIIWFoHiEfqBGP2AuNJBHTdB70m7_olbLYZvO04h2m8-qUJpgrx4fHYGWwjMt8m8mmonIWogfgR5/s400/IMG_0520.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Our first date at the Oregon Vortex. Yes... that's right. The Oregon Vortex.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">4. I LOVE sleeping.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04i9Mimy0ltqhXGtjXgrj-V7C_Eo3lu9eFweCBz7orxiWPPSoH-9fTQeGP41r2pgtYHgt0fEIuOeBqo0YcAWXZTthvzH7cjEug9SHBN9yIZqvgd15yFMYp8UkQ6vvtwZ_HX8flUhWPQ_7/s1600/IMG_0565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04i9Mimy0ltqhXGtjXgrj-V7C_Eo3lu9eFweCBz7orxiWPPSoH-9fTQeGP41r2pgtYHgt0fEIuOeBqo0YcAWXZTthvzH7cjEug9SHBN9yIZqvgd15yFMYp8UkQ6vvtwZ_HX8flUhWPQ_7/s400/IMG_0565.JPG" width="300" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This picture was taken while Adam and I were dating. I was SO tired, and had fallen asleep in this incredibly strange position while we were watching a movie.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">5. I went through a very awkward, fairly ugly phase from the ages of about 8-13. It's true. And I have proof:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6bfumsPfS_DOK89hyGCUNAq1N47SmiVxHlePqFjgrtO3dSKmUZ3QkIURjy7j1yPBgh5_LoNwxrik6VEPa9cZa7vMe_I5U3z_F2aS_sv-DtDzEYc8t_l5ziISWGtmxaRDN4ICVXFyKC_y/s1600/049.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6bfumsPfS_DOK89hyGCUNAq1N47SmiVxHlePqFjgrtO3dSKmUZ3QkIURjy7j1yPBgh5_LoNwxrik6VEPa9cZa7vMe_I5U3z_F2aS_sv-DtDzEYc8t_l5ziISWGtmxaRDN4ICVXFyKC_y/s400/049.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">That is me on the left (holding my cat, Spot). My sister is on the right (holding her dog, Nestle).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I had some serious teeth issues going on. And don't even get me started on the jeans.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">6. </span><span style="font-size: small;">The day I graduated high school, I thought it would be a really good idea to chop off ALL of my hair. I was wrong. Then a week later, I decided that since I had cut it all off in a moment of insanity, I would bleach it platinum blonde, purple and dark brown. It was definitely freeing to not have hair to hide behind anymore... but let's just say I'll probably never cut my hair that short again.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjME_OakluUTxUNLmUFouILVEL_gMohdRglYBc3rx0XMgFMAzS6k3o7nVKuFpKfcIxu_9cmucNVEDy6WFkf3vmb7zlZfA0_YouJ3i15SXqoM8eKWhA1mJx2y6N-1Z1g3k27IH-hv4Op0iC/s1600/Markie8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjME_OakluUTxUNLmUFouILVEL_gMohdRglYBc3rx0XMgFMAzS6k3o7nVKuFpKfcIxu_9cmucNVEDy6WFkf3vmb7zlZfA0_YouJ3i15SXqoM8eKWhA1mJx2y6N-1Z1g3k27IH-hv4Op0iC/s400/Markie8.JPG" width="300" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">You know that your hair is crazy when you are walking in downtown Seattle and people are staring at you as you walk past. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">7. And finally, I have been a ballerina for Halloween, not once, but twice. Recently. I wish I could wear that costume every day. It's fabulous. I actually had people ask me if I was an real ballerina when I wore it! Also, a little boy fell in love with me the first year I dressed as a ballerina. His mom told me that when they got home, he was saying his prayers before bed and said "... And Jesus, bless the pretty ballerina. Amen."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEPR9jMIXYMlla8e0-MPnEigs6SUHgRAcyOwHMLyIyh-PxhKMwJclGs31Y0SZeD7fwzOPnaCdgX_UeY66_aJzfDftAI0PuWYW0POmbZgNYXOOiDm_M4U-EUsNB-StlcPwI0hjaeU2C-m76/s1600/n504030842_1421223_3690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEPR9jMIXYMlla8e0-MPnEigs6SUHgRAcyOwHMLyIyh-PxhKMwJclGs31Y0SZeD7fwzOPnaCdgX_UeY66_aJzfDftAI0PuWYW0POmbZgNYXOOiDm_M4U-EUsNB-StlcPwI0hjaeU2C-m76/s400/n504030842_1421223_3690.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And NOW for my favorite, stylin', hip-happenin' blogs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In alphabetical order:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://bohobabybump.blogspot.com/">Boho Baby Bump</a> - <span style="font-size: x-small;">A stylish, bohemian mamma who decided that she didn't have to give up her hip style just because she became a mom. This is her chronicle of daily stylin' life as a wife and mother.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.bruklynbelle.com/">bruklyn belle</a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> - Bruklyn is one of my best friends in the whole world. She is super fly. Read her fashion blog and you will become super fly too. I guarantee it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><a href="http://colormekatie.blogspot.com/">Color Me Katie</a> <span style="font-size: x-small;">- Geeze, talk about a inspiring color explosion! Working as a photographer in NYC, participating in Improv Everywhere, inspiring total strangers with acts of zany kindness. This girl is rad. </span><br />
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<a href="http://dorisanne.blogspot.com/">Feathers and Things</a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> - The creative explosion in human form. This lady is an artist, an earring maker, an Etsy runner, and an original soul with a jawline I would kill for.</span><br />
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<a href="http://mattandkaraadopt.blogspot.com/">MattandKaraAdopt</a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> - A very open, honest, big-hearted blog about the process that is adoption. This wrenches my guts.</span><br />
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<a href="http://purloinedpizzastone.blogspot.com/">The Purloined Pizza Stone</a> - <span style="font-size: x-small;">A new blog full of wit and vigor, this one is. And so grammatically correct, too!</span><br />
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<a href="http://seablanket.blogspot.com/">seablanket</a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> - The creative space of a woman on a mission: to be crafty at all expense.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.thismuchblog.com/">This Much</a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> - Full to the brim with some amazingly witty dry humor. I die laughing when I read it. </span><br />
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<a href="http://tumorhater.blogspot.com/">tumor-ey side of me</a> <span style="font-size: x-small;">- The "diary" of a very brave, uplifting, super beautiful young woman with a rare disease. Warning: I found this blog this afternoon and I couldn't stop reading. </span><br />
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<a href="http://wordbody.blogspot.com/">When Body Becomes Word</a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> - And lastly, this blog is poetical gold. Written by a for real artist and poet, it is full to the brim with beautiful poetic imagery. Did I mention I'm a sucker for a good poem? </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Writing this post has really motivated me to get back on track with blogging. I WILL yet conquer laziness and busyness.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Stay tuned for tomorrow's blog where I will be talking about how wonderfully sucky baby fever is! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-32382982677855950112011-05-18T15:40:00.000-07:002011-06-14T16:04:17.864-07:00Mother's Day... Finally<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: inherit;">Oh my fellow bloggers... I'm learning how difficult it can be to find time to write when there are so many other things going on! But I'm determined to write anyway.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Honest blog: I've had SO many fun, exciting things happen in the last few weeks and have forgotten to write about each and every one of them... including Mother's Day (which was what... two weeks ago?). I had amazing plans to document the Mother's Day brunch we prepared solely for our beautiful mommas. It was going to be wonderful and insightful... but then I got so enveloped in the drama of the frittata (aka actually making the brunch), that I completely forgot to take pictures. </div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Thankfully, although I lack adequate documentation to prove this "brunch" happened, it was a beautiful Mother's Day. We had super nummy food. And super fun conversation. And lots of laughter. And we got to bless our mommas, who put so much of themselves into loving us and shaping us into at least mostly functional human beings!</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Since I don't have pictures of the brunch, I will give you the mom pictures that we have in our stash. </div><div style="font-family: inherit;">We love you mommas!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjiNulNL9LIxNIodrNe_uOQe0RFj4fPS6Gg49cVlz8Bz-P3QS9xRTkDJ0zDxXOVllP7nQ06vbr9GVfuzPhrFFIcecHya6uFNPkd9F4eXXpldnr4ypR6At3nPhRW2mTbHNnonW2U0TnVbh/s1600/032.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjiNulNL9LIxNIodrNe_uOQe0RFj4fPS6Gg49cVlz8Bz-P3QS9xRTkDJ0zDxXOVllP7nQ06vbr9GVfuzPhrFFIcecHya6uFNPkd9F4eXXpldnr4ypR6At3nPhRW2mTbHNnonW2U0TnVbh/s400/032.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;">Little blond-headed me and my mom. How am I so white when my mom is VERY clearly very dark? </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Blame it on my dad. I do :)</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidALag7C6hWYaqBXZljG6WZjBhgySEq_hp_m08_p2BSNAO09LumgvEtU0O7_qtZctyBXkODKlJkxwQu7renzDLXD2rIV62nrOvXr8W2Ml4aEULBNSxki-4DP1zFC5avgH8SsjyvEgnP9Ow/s1600/scan0698.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidALag7C6hWYaqBXZljG6WZjBhgySEq_hp_m08_p2BSNAO09LumgvEtU0O7_qtZctyBXkODKlJkxwQu7renzDLXD2rIV62nrOvXr8W2Ml4aEULBNSxki-4DP1zFC5avgH8SsjyvEgnP9Ow/s400/scan0698.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Adam and his wonderful mom as she was leaving the hospital with his newly-born 11 lb. self.</span></div><br />
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</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-58249393156566139252011-04-07T15:14:00.000-07:002011-04-08T10:04:23.010-07:00The Wonderful World of Decorating<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Adam and I are planning on buying a house in the not-so-distant future. In the meantime, I've been trying to bulk up on decoration inspiration.<br />
<br />
In the process of trying to find the perfect mesh of my mutt-style, I have realized how much I miss Domino Magazine. It had the perfect blend of bohemian-vintage-chic, traditional flair, comfort, and funky details. For now, I guess I will just have to settle for spending (notice how I chose not to use the word "wasting") countless hours on <a href="http://www.elledecor.com/">elledecor.com</a> and <a href="http://apartmenttherapy.com/">apartmenttherapy.com</a>. While drooling. My life is so hard.<br />
<br />
An intelligent person would probably wait until she had a house of her own before she started perusing the world wide web for design inspiration. This intelligent person would realize that spending way too much time looking at beautiful rooms while renting a house that she can't touch = bad idea. And furthermore, she would know that if she WERE to search the depths of the internet for the perfect living room, she would start to obsess... and then she would start to go insane... and then she would drive her husband mad with chatterings and mumblings of future decorating plans. And then he might cut his ears off.<br />
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But on the bright side, if I were an intelligent person, you wouldn't get to look at this eye candy:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Note: I felt like naming the pictures because I'm hip like that.)</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwUAfPPu6n5v7WQZCYk4yjrtKIE1Ny8E6wu3OpSGWfdsh6u6f9jpNcsABUxhFmjS9IAuBmfZzLakFMnXJRGuSTbkN2uB2Yi7hDZ0S3yHi8AficywPQGCkIuR1cJrhebWAB3TviQKcKts7e/s1600/ApartmentTherapyViaDomino.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwUAfPPu6n5v7WQZCYk4yjrtKIE1Ny8E6wu3OpSGWfdsh6u6f9jpNcsABUxhFmjS9IAuBmfZzLakFMnXJRGuSTbkN2uB2Yi7hDZ0S3yHi8AficywPQGCkIuR1cJrhebWAB3TviQKcKts7e/s320/ApartmentTherapyViaDomino.jpg" width="301" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/la/inspiration/inspiration-a-painted-wall-in-domino-magazine-working-with-what-you-have-075112">Atlantis</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmyJ-lkQGlUrkmitJuCh_5B58GZBxE38-hIy1gLdu4hqQgretXus0ZQ_fA7gW1kD_ipYKYH0KEORXmE_cUR0BtU99ElBRGhahSCSOsWTcue-ZbCeZYuByB0ASRdkWTIHNiLQhBsup4XFrw/s320/InLivingColorElleDecor.jpg" width="320" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.elledecor.com/image/tid/6304?page=5&pause=1">Blues Hues</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgNb7yqt7BBerJ6oUkvvSlE-yFb49DlC8tdgJzQsR1mK-TewT4iZDhqZnGbxnDBUPHH9ppyaoFupig7OdUU0HVgczXS8ub7HBqurzI8w5PfSqwUD-m0SqzsLOePFFGXGoMaC9DWrCckWyS/s320/ElleDecorOfficeSpaces.jpg" width="320" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.elledecor.com/image/tid/6247?page=2&pause=1">Grey Beard</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyTS6unTjkdfYlCHHAA-Oqo3isl2gwue99xx7xKq0MnSwSRdc0_58M2z9XQqB8Bz6bXu6q__xK5Npkgx17psLLh-KTOxoi3gCiEQWoJQY508cYptYOzEuOv8yFYUl6dgL1sdWPEmiu6Ul/s320/ElleDecorsLookBook2.jpg" width="320" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lookbook.elledecor.com/search">Smoking Room</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTU1i3fKdrpGC5gP1Yuqu0VixS7TdQ8-jPjn20LHUczPhpDQ8cwblqkCE5w9OmUzg4ukFNtiCTO9WrpkioLewy4P_6LFqGXCVHbPEZbL7YLUoLsTpfBYBoyua7BCfkLRXAKLFEffmsmTL/s1600/ElleDecorsLookBook.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqrCpaKRvnWmAciXxAp23YFILH7sIbwVWXVSwNAMmpem5aU4vGoJJuE5XJvpqrL72fZzVi0bcSYrujmLQt-vQTTZYFtW1tICpSe4n4MpeT80txp7JiFw5ih0ANCDQfliL2h1WsoQ9Bxq9W/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-04-07+at+2.01.06+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqrCpaKRvnWmAciXxAp23YFILH7sIbwVWXVSwNAMmpem5aU4vGoJJuE5XJvpqrL72fZzVi0bcSYrujmLQt-vQTTZYFtW1tICpSe4n4MpeT80txp7JiFw5ih0ANCDQfliL2h1WsoQ9Bxq9W/s320/Screen+shot+2011-04-07+at+2.01.06+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/la/look/look-graywashed-cabinetsdomino-april-2008-050011">The Coral Shelf</a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTU1i3fKdrpGC5gP1Yuqu0VixS7TdQ8-jPjn20LHUczPhpDQ8cwblqkCE5w9OmUzg4ukFNtiCTO9WrpkioLewy4P_6LFqGXCVHbPEZbL7YLUoLsTpfBYBoyua7BCfkLRXAKLFEffmsmTL/s1600/ElleDecorsLookBook.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTU1i3fKdrpGC5gP1Yuqu0VixS7TdQ8-jPjn20LHUczPhpDQ8cwblqkCE5w9OmUzg4ukFNtiCTO9WrpkioLewy4P_6LFqGXCVHbPEZbL7YLUoLsTpfBYBoyua7BCfkLRXAKLFEffmsmTL/s320/ElleDecorsLookBook.jpg" width="320" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lookbook.elledecor.com/search">The Traveler's Study </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXYqWWQD8kO3IyBs2gC3E6qGIIHzRZjTY7YEmxhTV-hlJyBbtssRLpewbI8-8Uo0u4ANPystHZicniR4zzbWl5iRfBIVjtKXw8JqWNjLcngSvD4uI0pb2pgVwL6NmRJsrRfBI7_a7XrAo/s320/InLivingColorElleDecor2.jpg" width="320" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.elledecor.com/image/tid/6304?page=7&pause=1">Rainbow Bright</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjig7CSjELhTukYTmO6xrSSQC3hF0FVTnDoKPXhoEYBtyDZTpUC5FG-nfhkRV2Tagmj1c5L9L2sjJTbZkEWFnMK5myh51pS9IabNQ8A4g7zrYeXebSOIIfg35wyjYo-gFuqT9dGBvKhEdwZ/s320/BoldAndBeautifulTownhouseElleDecor.jpg" width="320" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.elledecor.com/decorating/articles/bold-and-beautiful-townhouse">Tea and Crumpets</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">Looks like we'll have to buy a house with seven living rooms...</div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-87472689176457438702011-04-05T10:33:00.000-07:002011-04-05T12:44:37.309-07:00Get Fuzzy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I needed a pick-me-up today... and these <a href="http://comics.com/get_fuzzy/2011-04-05/">Get Fuzzy</a> comics did the trick.<br />
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This comic strip features the adventures of three household pets: Fungo (the scary ferret), Bucky (the evil, wannabe-scientist cat), and Satchel (the dumb, but very sweet, dog).<br />
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In the comics below, Bucky has started spreading nasty rumors about Fungo the ferret on sticky notes that he posts all over the house and calls "weaseleaks": <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8QGe0v3ecASpahdn86pGYQNEv-8-flWu32p4a8a0-SSR8vyszz-rvyQL9C4zDf4IZVdGLOVydoSqjEL8-WZ0URqapvdLjMEb38-YoNmt3sGvZ7cxirNTZo8LMxOrPt8VarFw8Mi73KsQr/s1600/180783_532800553032_177100833_31225133_5259442_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8QGe0v3ecASpahdn86pGYQNEv-8-flWu32p4a8a0-SSR8vyszz-rvyQL9C4zDf4IZVdGLOVydoSqjEL8-WZ0URqapvdLjMEb38-YoNmt3sGvZ7cxirNTZo8LMxOrPt8VarFw8Mi73KsQr/s400/180783_532800553032_177100833_31225133_5259442_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZv7BXLdEyGjIQ1So8IQxflxLY9_si0T_C_PYvTXftK4-2IBOLFWkkACuQ8YLsp68Kdw4na6bPcPLEzQBuGiZuEDhIbUA0BWBb69dW1cwLooMsWnk0yV7JATBz_0ohsK-71stMZOQwzHZL/s1600/352698.full.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZv7BXLdEyGjIQ1So8IQxflxLY9_si0T_C_PYvTXftK4-2IBOLFWkkACuQ8YLsp68Kdw4na6bPcPLEzQBuGiZuEDhIbUA0BWBb69dW1cwLooMsWnk0yV7JATBz_0ohsK-71stMZOQwzHZL/s400/352698.full.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">I hope this uplifts your day as much as it uplifted mine!</div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-20251557398870109492011-03-30T21:46:00.000-07:002011-04-05T13:18:39.922-07:00Treehugger<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">To preface: If you grow up in Oregon, you love trees. It's just how it works. If you don't love trees and you live in Oregon, there is probably something wrong with your head.<br />
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I wanted a tree house so badly when I was little. But not so much the kind of tree house that you play in... more like one that you live in. All the time. I think I must have been inspired by The Berenstein Bears' home. <br />
In my free time, (you know, when I wasn't doing the important things like watching Power Rangers and Animaniacs) I would draw what I wanted my tree house to look like. It was always 10 stories high and cut in half, so you could see all the furnishings inside. It always had one room per floor. It also had winding staircases, a large kitchen (on the first floor, of course. Who wants to carry all those groceries up ten flights of stairs?!) a fireplace (probably not such a good idea), a chandelier, and an attic full of dress up clothes. And there it was, in all its ten story glory, hanging out in a forest canopy.<br />
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Well... recently I found out that apparently (at least part of) my dream wasn't so crazy. About a year ago, I stumbled upon <a href="http://www.treehouseworkshop.com/index.html">TreeHouse Workshop</a> which specializes in making houses. In trees. For adults.<br />
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To quote Liz Lemon "I want to go to there."<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6fudvW8VCcu345BrqweeYxS_PjfzxmzPMRWzt1gwdWICFVrIShaypoZZvydkYLuUo3tvI908uRer03B0tLoNq1ZZiByAr8S0p54PyNRjlbkHrwCWDWxdcT5GJZGfZOLHsA6D9NuKmTu69/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-25+at+8.32.55+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6fudvW8VCcu345BrqweeYxS_PjfzxmzPMRWzt1gwdWICFVrIShaypoZZvydkYLuUo3tvI908uRer03B0tLoNq1ZZiByAr8S0p54PyNRjlbkHrwCWDWxdcT5GJZGfZOLHsA6D9NuKmTu69/s400/Screen+shot+2011-03-25+at+8.32.55+AM.png" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUChEFIYWQjZGXwEcWRv7iTcPC3Am49_S1oblOOeJjg9RSfBAtNCisSQO6Furx92mx-r4UtvF3gf8t3xje-Cc1Qg-wCCHpOdmc2uHq_cW2j9agV7joZt9CQ8r93yv3GQ0vrqnr9xO3OO77/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-25+at+8.31.49+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUChEFIYWQjZGXwEcWRv7iTcPC3Am49_S1oblOOeJjg9RSfBAtNCisSQO6Furx92mx-r4UtvF3gf8t3xje-Cc1Qg-wCCHpOdmc2uHq_cW2j9agV7joZt9CQ8r93yv3GQ0vrqnr9xO3OO77/s400/Screen+shot+2011-03-25+at+8.31.49+AM.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUkO-0oeHT0LqDwOl52D4lHiLgoVSAXvd7973Cf_QH67KABbSkN3gYTYAQlzKw-TCMQZ8XS5MYm9WJdGI1ur-AE1i4qHvkUMXfUQKSzYr_JW_9kLa2NcvcYZjrwWlCGfl-gxxkQx6Y6Tp/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-25+at+8.30.24+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUkO-0oeHT0LqDwOl52D4lHiLgoVSAXvd7973Cf_QH67KABbSkN3gYTYAQlzKw-TCMQZ8XS5MYm9WJdGI1ur-AE1i4qHvkUMXfUQKSzYr_JW_9kLa2NcvcYZjrwWlCGfl-gxxkQx6Y6Tp/s400/Screen+shot+2011-03-25+at+8.30.24+AM.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">View their <a href="http://www.treehouseworkshop.com/port_getaways_01.html">portfolio</a> to see more amazing tree houses</div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-80748410356288726512011-03-24T22:45:00.000-07:002011-04-05T13:22:38.796-07:00Swell Season: The Movie<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I couldn't figure out what to blog about today, so I found myself just cruisin' around the web. Mostly wasting time (I have a habit of only meaning to be on the internet for 5 minutes, and then zoning out for three hours while watching videos of laughing babies and looking at houses online.) But then, I saw THIS...<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/--Sn2iLF0Pc" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe><br />
<br />
and it rocked my world.<br />
<br />
Apparently, during The Swell Season's two-year world tour, there was a documentary team filming them. The resulting film was aptly titled <a href="http://www.theswellseasonmovie.com/">"The Swell Season"</a> and is opening on April 22nd in NYC during the Tribeca Film Festival. It looks like it is mostly about Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova's much talked about relationship. Yes please.<br />
<br />
I love documentaries because it's like people watching... on steroids. (And I love people watching. Probably a little too much). This documentary will be no exception. It better find its way to our local theater, Netflix, or DVD... or I'm gonna be super mad.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-49691474975402182542011-03-23T16:40:00.000-07:002011-04-07T15:18:18.364-07:00The Vintage Itch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">That title sounds a little like an STD.<br />
<br />
Anyway... I know that in my last post I went on and on about how my day-to-day wardrobe is not inspired by anything particularly "fashiony." Not out of a dislike for fashion. I love fashion. But out of a sort of laziness and an overwhelming love of the V-neck. But now, I realize that my last post is only mostly truth. Yep, that's right. Lately, I have the "vintage itch." And what is more fashion-forward than vintage?<br />
<br />
In the last few years, I haven't owned very many vintage pieces - but when I was little I was obsessed. My mom used to buy me vintage box hats and silk gloves and I would wear them to church. I was probably overdressed... edging towards flamboyant... but a four year old doesn't know what that means (I wish I could still wear hats... but I can't find any that will fit my head. Sad but True.) Now, I only own 4 or 5 pieces, but whenever I wear them, I feel like a million dollars.<br />
<br />
Well, the other day, I saw a link to <a href="http://adore-vintage.blogspot.com/">this</a> blog... and it stirred up my obsession. It also solidified my desire to start an <a href="http://www.etsy.com/sell?ref=so_sell">Etsy</a>. I have wanted to create an Etsy for about the last 6 months... but I was afraid. Mostly of failing. But I have talked to the huzbin, and it's official. I will start collecting vintage items at the beginning of next month; and hopefully I will have a shop open within the next 60 days.<br />
<br />
Wish me luck!<br />
<br />
Here are some of the dresses that inspired me:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjVU7kLuJxXkRGNvK7p9C-S9gq2wsJ0ZKvcRMHkaLFRwxqkoH1XHDdnBi9fOzpKbPtchG9vhs7lS6cbmGGNG0BFeXgDTM6VEOV1REmWW_tpIecjRHQjsHaa_MtApTmkS2w7zvhsJr1BDV4/s1600/summersdarlingdress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjVU7kLuJxXkRGNvK7p9C-S9gq2wsJ0ZKvcRMHkaLFRwxqkoH1XHDdnBi9fOzpKbPtchG9vhs7lS6cbmGGNG0BFeXgDTM6VEOV1REmWW_tpIecjRHQjsHaa_MtApTmkS2w7zvhsJr1BDV4/s400/summersdarlingdress.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://shop.adorevintage.com/summers-darling-dress-p-3033.html">Summer's Darling Dress</a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTgVuxHiQYe4t2bvemlFCrE9iDKLrWDJ0PoAcWSZbTgb_ey1sBJMR8qsvOQxklBVEvJ20dqGJszBLRKDrXvz5EoToeSKA_U8P4xPsEipgf-PIpBBd60gUmNP3qftYIg1bD2IdM30zjnj3/s1600/cobaltnightengaledress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTgVuxHiQYe4t2bvemlFCrE9iDKLrWDJ0PoAcWSZbTgb_ey1sBJMR8qsvOQxklBVEvJ20dqGJszBLRKDrXvz5EoToeSKA_U8P4xPsEipgf-PIpBBd60gUmNP3qftYIg1bD2IdM30zjnj3/s400/cobaltnightengaledress.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://shop.adorevintage.com/cobalt-nightengale-dress-p-3012.html"> Cobalt Nightingale Dress</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HIevGy0WGTna6t9qfQUEi_loVWABPhXmXy18Pf7Sdv62eP2pCKiBVF3W-otMRKK59UpAidzpMqtsDezUTClRbq7RXncRLeBu2HYEg6nLkjP99yqRuT4ETk6YWsG-yBRYeW9PQt-5YhS2/s1600/gardnerstreetdress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HIevGy0WGTna6t9qfQUEi_loVWABPhXmXy18Pf7Sdv62eP2pCKiBVF3W-otMRKK59UpAidzpMqtsDezUTClRbq7RXncRLeBu2HYEg6nLkjP99yqRuT4ETk6YWsG-yBRYeW9PQt-5YhS2/s400/gardnerstreetdress.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://shop.adorevintage.com/gardner-street-dress-p-3017.html">Gardener Street Dress</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-67795489496124937012011-03-17T15:09:00.000-07:002011-04-05T13:06:15.775-07:00Let's See What That Big Ocean's Got<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Sometimes, love looks like this:<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/b5KV1Lf2NkY" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Video source: <a href="http://www.theswellseason.com/biography/">The Swell Season</a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
And you know what, that is okay. It's even healthy. Because when it's all over, when you've pushed through and sat down to talk it out and let it loose, you love each other all the more.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-5005398563428112702011-03-16T15:38:00.000-07:002011-04-07T15:19:46.747-07:00Style Inspiration<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Most people's style inspiration is something or someone uber fashiony. Chloe, Betsy Johnson, Marc Jacobs, Balenciaga, Sarah Jessica Parker, Gaga Gabor, Diana Ross, The Olsen Twins, Boy George, Kim Kardashian. Something like that. Not me. <br />
Call me a conformist... but I love the clean, interesting, mass produced simplicity of J.Crew.<br />
Now, don't get me wrong, I wish that was me. Much of the time, I wish I could be that person who gently picks out their Marc Jacobs (or Marc Jacobs inspired) outfit out of the closet, packs on the accessories, actually DOES something to their hair, puts on their 5 inch heels and heads out the door on time. But that just isn't me. I usually put together outfits based on what is clean (sometimes), easy to get to (this usually means that it is laying on the floor), and what will go with a V-neck Tee. And now, more and more I find that, when I don't spend all my money on food, I am gravitating towards buying outfits based on whether or not they are already put together for me online, hanging on the J.Crew model.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD8FGp1JywHCC0nTGkADedazSnjW2batGnqS8hD9FTvpm2oaaaaN57f5yvOZjdSY4PDGZxF3pUtNsF_oy5m7hbI8bf7k-6SI9lz-XukSYEZEZpVy1wUNtSEP3jVE3x70JcnBieZiQg86M0/s1600/erez+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD8FGp1JywHCC0nTGkADedazSnjW2batGnqS8hD9FTvpm2oaaaaN57f5yvOZjdSY4PDGZxF3pUtNsF_oy5m7hbI8bf7k-6SI9lz-XukSYEZEZpVy1wUNtSEP3jVE3x70JcnBieZiQg86M0/s320/erez+%25284%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-t6oCOjaVODTmfyTi2W1vIfLY7fIKQGbpVL1-TXZVTMnL1md_rXMobMCaRCGHerwgi-Tc-p_z1kogcqrxsCobe4EvOpZXioxnjHl1ZHme6PpQevbnTIJjMn-JWpB9en_ZkTy-ckeHQXt/s1600/erez+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-t6oCOjaVODTmfyTi2W1vIfLY7fIKQGbpVL1-TXZVTMnL1md_rXMobMCaRCGHerwgi-Tc-p_z1kogcqrxsCobe4EvOpZXioxnjHl1ZHme6PpQevbnTIJjMn-JWpB9en_ZkTy-ckeHQXt/s320/erez+%25283%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitWsOQnf2T_UT-AbNl06fH7dutlTMyp6_QN9d3jBJYi-oWOqhD-vLKK2SRyC-YwWDVjh1VwzsIrFVxcYTS8ao07mShGzYPO-R0Sm0REZq06-WFi7gBJpiXh_NlYB4q2VW4hes0T4zxgJTq/s1600/erez+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitWsOQnf2T_UT-AbNl06fH7dutlTMyp6_QN9d3jBJYi-oWOqhD-vLKK2SRyC-YwWDVjh1VwzsIrFVxcYTS8ao07mShGzYPO-R0Sm0REZq06-WFi7gBJpiXh_NlYB4q2VW4hes0T4zxgJTq/s320/erez+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">source: <a href="http://j.crew/">J.Crew</a></div><br />
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</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-2213685696384785292011-03-14T21:26:00.001-07:002011-04-05T12:32:38.913-07:0010,000 and One<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">No one that I know is really talking about what is happening in Japan. I mean, they are posting facts about it on Facebook, but it feels like nobody quite knows what to say when one sees them in person. We all know on an logical level that what happened was terrible, but it is so hard to connect to a disaster of this magnitude from across the world (even for me, and I might be one of the most emotional people you will ever meet.) All the news stories feel so lumped together and sterilized. I can't comprehend a possible 10,000 deaths in one day. I can't comprehend the destruction (even though I went to Mississippi for 5 months to aid in Hurricane Katrina relief.) It's all too big to understand.<br />
What made it "hit home" for me was reading a news story <a href="http://www.theaustralian.com.au/tears-after-two-days-adrift-at-sea/story-fn84naht-1226021385018">here</a> about a 60 year old Japanese man named Hiromitsu Shinkawawho who was adrift at sea for 2 days after the tsunami hit. To paraphrase the article, after the earthquake hit, he and his wife went home to gather a few possessions when they saw the giant wave coming. It was too late to escape so they tried to scramble up to the roof. As the tsunami hit their home, Mr. Shinkawawho tried to grab onto his wife, but she got caught up by the water and was swept away. He couldn't save her. No person could have. That is what is scary about all of this... it is beyond our control. I can't comprehend 10,000... but I can comprehend one; and it is enough to break my heart.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvw8mnOUmRGJoGJnvU7E6a7LeRYEQ9_MtXfW_1Aoy54zi9dOLYxIXxd-BS0lzS6rPDQQncMNwFDRU8NjU4120mntHHBj08vr62oO3ZARTRnZhnmp0hH7lWq4S2__agtFI-aCD36Hs3VyvN/s1600/Houses-burn-in-Natori-City-after-8.9-earthquake-and-tsunami-slams-Japan.-March-11-2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvw8mnOUmRGJoGJnvU7E6a7LeRYEQ9_MtXfW_1Aoy54zi9dOLYxIXxd-BS0lzS6rPDQQncMNwFDRU8NjU4120mntHHBj08vr62oO3ZARTRnZhnmp0hH7lWq4S2__agtFI-aCD36Hs3VyvN/s400/Houses-burn-in-Natori-City-after-8.9-earthquake-and-tsunami-slams-Japan.-March-11-2011.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Photo found <a href="http://mittromneycentral.com/2011/03/11/earthquake-tsunami-devastate-japan-mitt-romney-responds/">Here</a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-21778847234165450562011-03-12T17:19:00.000-08:002011-04-05T12:46:34.549-07:00Mini Photo Shoot<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I live across from a really cute park (well... during the day it's cute. Not so much at night... parks are creepy at night. Am I the only one who thinks this?) The other day my friend and I spent some time together, and she agreed to nab some shots of me in the park while the sun was still out. She then proceeded to be even more awesome, took the best picture, and made me a new banner for my blog! What a good friend.<br />
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Here are some of the good shots. (There were also some bad shots. Sometimes I can look pretty grotesque. I was pondering showing you the worst shots as well... but I don't know if my pride could handle it. Also, I don't think I could do that to your eyes.)<br />
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</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-70444172077168359322011-03-12T10:09:00.000-08:002011-04-05T13:09:09.967-07:00Etsy Feature: Bruklyn Belle Vintage<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I have been loving my friends an extra amount lately. After you get married, it seems that you and your new spouse make this unspoken pact that you will be hermits together for the next year. (It is in this same pact that I agreed to stop shaving and Adam vowed to grow a scraggly beard. If you are going to be hermits, you might as well go all the way.) But then, after you emerge from your cave, smelling like old feet, you start craving friendships again.<br />
This is where I am at in my life at this moment - just emerging from said cave, pasty white and in need of people. One of the first people I began spending more time with (post hermit) was my awesome, totally foxy, fashion-forward, lovely-music-playing friend <a href="http://www.bruklynbelle.com/">Bruk</a>. (Again, real friend. Not blog friend. Also in my wedding). <br />
Bruk's tenacity inspires me. I pretty much feel like she could do anything. She has a beautiful Etsy shop called <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/bruklynbelle">Bruklyn Belle Vintage</a> (for which I may or may not have modeled in the past, ahem.) You should go there. Just a warning: you might not be able to handle it. She has a knack for finding amazing vintage pieces, and as I said before, she is super foxy. You might just buy everything in her store. <br />
You've been warned.<br />
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</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-29486224690152701202011-03-09T20:17:00.000-08:002011-04-05T13:04:40.733-07:00For The Love of Cake<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I am so tired of this diet. No sugar, no flour, no gluten, no dairy, no garlic, no eggs, no fun.<br />
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But I can't quit. So what do I do? I live vicariously through <a href="http://sweetapolita.com/">this</a> blog. (And through my husband - who routinely stuffs food in his face, not of his own free will, but because he is made to do so by a certain crazy, starch-starved wife).<br />
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I want to eat things like this:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWyeAAIDTI7CZBwMFC36MImfTJ24o94l9X9bkvxNyHXzlse8Wj7MG3UjNZJCNoMmaZqzQdgxxbm4m2VnaEmm78aLak3S-oor6VeJgz1VFzxYnZQeDgIS0tfqBHG7Zw-zrCyNqEjHNVdJR/s1600/fullruffleboostsocopop50-1024x731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWyeAAIDTI7CZBwMFC36MImfTJ24o94l9X9bkvxNyHXzlse8Wj7MG3UjNZJCNoMmaZqzQdgxxbm4m2VnaEmm78aLak3S-oor6VeJgz1VFzxYnZQeDgIS0tfqBHG7Zw-zrCyNqEjHNVdJR/s400/fullruffleboostsocopop50-1024x731.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sweetapolita.com/2010/11/rich-ruffled-chocolate-celebration-cake/">Rich and Ruffled Chocolate Celebration Cake</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJvywEgrb56tVLmEXAeTtgkgVtkJLzymGOEggIq2qUiQR3Okm0EPvaqEpBoblm0goC8aBC9rn7MLFtSFG5UrNwlBw8zioUg05TQoNMRDap3uGJZ4A9-jlVPHc3eoEKf2AKTFQ-whu7pk-/s1600/campfirecake-731x1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJvywEgrb56tVLmEXAeTtgkgVtkJLzymGOEggIq2qUiQR3Okm0EPvaqEpBoblm0goC8aBC9rn7MLFtSFG5UrNwlBw8zioUg05TQoNMRDap3uGJZ4A9-jlVPHc3eoEKf2AKTFQ-whu7pk-/s400/campfirecake-731x1024.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sweetapolita.com/2011/02/campfire-delight-6-layer-rich-chocolate-malted-toasted-marshmallow-cake/">Campfire Chocolate Cake with Marshmallow filling</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">So, please, do me a favor tonight. If you can eat wonderful, sugary, gluten-filled pastries, do it. With me in mind. For the love of cake!</div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-88730661053166294532011-03-09T19:20:00.000-08:002011-04-05T13:06:37.014-07:00On Being More Conscious<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="http://bridgetownfood.com/">This</a> is the blog of my foodie-friend, Kendra. (Not just a blog friend. Like, my actual friend. As in she was in my wedding. She's super awesome, and a fellow <strike>pseudo</strike> redhead). It is called "Bridgetown Food Collective." It is very focused, beautiful, and inspiring. It is mostly about food; and it touches on how we can change our communities by what we eat.<br />
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Also, I stole this from her blog. But it's okay, because she stole it from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user478713/videos/sort:date">Jesse Rosten's Vimeo</a>.<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/18305022" width="500"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/18305022">Growing is Forever</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user478713">Jesse Rosten</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-75662771140836287812011-03-07T15:07:00.000-08:002011-04-05T12:57:31.596-07:00Bravery<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Confession time: in case you don't know... I'm a super big nerd. I love mythological creatures. I think that dragons really existed. I daydream about seeing (or being) a mermaid. I believed in Santa Claus till I was twelve. And I love a good science-fictiony book. (I would say "fantasy book"... but that would conjure up all kinds of unsavory images).<br />
Phew. With that confession out of the way, I can move on.<br />
I am re-reading Chronicles of Narnia for the billionth time (all out of order. C.S. Lewis would probably scold me. I started with The Voyage of the Dawn Treader because I was so peeved by the most recent movie that I just simply HAD to read it to make sure that the book was no where near that bad. Thankfully, it was as wonderful as I remembered - and was just unfortunately hacked to bits by Disney.)(See what I mean? N-E-R-D.) This time around, I am realizing more and more that these beautiful books are all about bravery.<br />
One of my favorite quotes from "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe" is:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">"Peter did not feel very brave; indeed, he felt he was going to be sick. </div><div style="text-align: center;">But that made no difference to what he had to do. </div><div style="text-align: center;">He rushed straight up to the monster and aimed a slash of his sword at its side."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I always thought that bravery was <i>feeling </i>victorious and pumped up. But the older I get, the more I realize that most of the time, we don't <i>feel</i> brave. That, however, doesn't change the fact that we must act. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Because if we don't act, we'll miss our adventure. And then we won't have any good stories. And where's the fun in that? I'll tell you... nowhere.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-6216436341584476882011-03-05T10:40:00.000-08:002011-03-05T10:40:03.289-08:00What To Do?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I want to do something to my hair. I love long, flowing, luscious hair... so maybe I should grow it out. But I also love short, spunky, sassy hair... so maybe I should keep it short. What to do?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOL9FvzqdreLqbDgchZUoheUV1grZD0g7c7F89o5TwCS9QlO_iQ0n3tiDDhX44oMwLhPfnd4DApfIMgfh3GeED6cbk_oyUDhkd-OVhBqcmfA24wLivAVbzWnuu_jXJCRuhdtyyeTJRu5ko/s1600/long_hair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOL9FvzqdreLqbDgchZUoheUV1grZD0g7c7F89o5TwCS9QlO_iQ0n3tiDDhX44oMwLhPfnd4DApfIMgfh3GeED6cbk_oyUDhkd-OVhBqcmfA24wLivAVbzWnuu_jXJCRuhdtyyeTJRu5ko/s320/long_hair.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> (Photo from <a href="http://weheartit.com/">weheartit.com</a>)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4LC6vtwLhGY53PsyLyP_ndE9DSpJyXaA1aOcjJO-0-5vJ-Ic84kRvv_WTGGp-R6IFKRiRZMFREhJBm4AabNdQzSZtmSVA0geEzR3IUTey7fPKrPuI-_4D4HesZPa0HmZFRK4qRkJdymi2/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-03-05+at+10.28.04+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4LC6vtwLhGY53PsyLyP_ndE9DSpJyXaA1aOcjJO-0-5vJ-Ic84kRvv_WTGGp-R6IFKRiRZMFREhJBm4AabNdQzSZtmSVA0geEzR3IUTey7fPKrPuI-_4D4HesZPa0HmZFRK4qRkJdymi2/s320/Screen+shot+2011-03-05+at+10.28.04+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">(photo from <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thedarlinglife/page15/">The Darling Life</a>)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">(I will never have my hair as short as the picture above ever again. I cut it this short the day I graduated high school; and, due to my oddly shaped head, it was a very bad idea. But... you get the point. Fun short hair.)</div><br />
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</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-21413543075697611382011-03-03T20:46:00.000-08:002011-04-05T13:22:58.560-07:00"Back to the Future" Feature: Irina Werning<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">If you want to see something amazing, dreamy and fascinating, take a look at <a href="http://irinawerning.com/chini/chini-project/irinawerning.com">Irina Werning's</a> photography project entitled "Back to the Future." And no, it doesn't have anything to do with DeLoreans.<br />
In this project, Irina Werning (the master behind the camera) asked her friends and family to re-enact their childhood photos. In looking through the pictures, I was amazed at how little people change over the years! <br />
Here's a taste.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvK2igH4p3lvOKSVtvG2ok9SVUr3wSzQqqnW7pkDmAc1tPL653OJ4VxEPPqfWSsfpY1KftT6IzMrXzKWdAkihuJq_Z1SNaupSXHgN19TltAL2OU2e0ffLt33eaw2hzjv60WPvLQFaSeK7/s1600/20_pancho-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvK2igH4p3lvOKSVtvG2ok9SVUr3wSzQqqnW7pkDmAc1tPL653OJ4VxEPPqfWSsfpY1KftT6IzMrXzKWdAkihuJq_Z1SNaupSXHgN19TltAL2OU2e0ffLt33eaw2hzjv60WPvLQFaSeK7/s400/20_pancho-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-CQcqwxB9uLRwEf1y1m7X0jk2V_PcKC0dxOHRfgimk5nEM3EXmlXjCsms2FKkn23QeahA_f3aE1Be1xLT1Q47GHUkuADgHb_MSR2RrlGTw3-KGQxdZi0qgoNN1kYfOXw4SK-O6S7wxZX/s1600/20_male-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-CQcqwxB9uLRwEf1y1m7X0jk2V_PcKC0dxOHRfgimk5nEM3EXmlXjCsms2FKkn23QeahA_f3aE1Be1xLT1Q47GHUkuADgHb_MSR2RrlGTw3-KGQxdZi0qgoNN1kYfOXw4SK-O6S7wxZX/s400/20_male-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidpF0RseTTwF_UtSTdcGprtivLxeCImeSvR1lk-qdTLuaqrm_c-s4jreBzG23mSXbxMiJ_AVmguNf2Cbns4JDxOhzJaZEoO3lQur64gEJlE7ZkuIssd5FIaIPUtobkTioKbwtwgddb8r7m/s1600/20_mechi-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidpF0RseTTwF_UtSTdcGprtivLxeCImeSvR1lk-qdTLuaqrm_c-s4jreBzG23mSXbxMiJ_AVmguNf2Cbns4JDxOhzJaZEoO3lQur64gEJlE7ZkuIssd5FIaIPUtobkTioKbwtwgddb8r7m/s400/20_mechi-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYsHjeDEvCvUQad94_094uRPZAjFEwDI63_WEbgaIPyjUkI8FZYf3Ujq_yQ8Wr2FDk2qSUGvWnQ2nDOL2cClK9D6vv7jLTNQK4TzU_EYH07twDkWD9VOjK4lpk67RTS8I0sAcsNPoOIfHZ/s1600/20_benn-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYsHjeDEvCvUQad94_094uRPZAjFEwDI63_WEbgaIPyjUkI8FZYf3Ujq_yQ8Wr2FDk2qSUGvWnQ2nDOL2cClK9D6vv7jLTNQK4TzU_EYH07twDkWD9VOjK4lpk67RTS8I0sAcsNPoOIfHZ/s400/20_benn-web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-84680185152173729482011-02-28T21:49:00.000-08:002011-04-05T13:19:23.862-07:00A Poem That I Had Forgotten About<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Tonight, I pulled this poem out of somewhere inside of me. From where exactly, I'm not sure. I wrote it four years ago, then completely forgot about it; but tonight I started randomly quoting lines from it (inside my head, of course). It's not super good or anything, it was just my thoughts at a point in time; and interestingly, my current thoughts are very similar to what I was feeling at the exact moment I wrote this. Weird how life takes us in circles sometimes.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #262626; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #262626; line-height: 18px;">On Forgetting </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #262626; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #262626; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I have forgotten...</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #262626; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">there is depth in your action.<br />
I am in this place where thoughts fuzz<br />
but when I look beyond the curtain, beyond everything,<br />
I know you are there.<br />
In that crevice where I shove you.<br />
Expanding like frozen water.<br />
Rocking me like a sleeping child.<br />
And that is enough for me.<br />
Good, faithful, and everything real.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #262626; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">You are greater.</span></span><br />
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</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-82144479410914671272011-02-26T16:34:00.000-08:002011-04-05T13:05:51.200-07:00You Might Think This is Really Weird<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The last couple of weeks, I've been pretty sick. For some reason or another (probably related to food allergies) my body was rejecting food. Anytime I would eat something my body would simply say "Sorry, this stomach is out of order. Please try again." And then terrible things would happen. I was, needless to say, very hungry, very unhappy, and very annoyed.<br />
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Well, I'm starting to feel better - but preparing food is still fairly exhausting. Thankfully, (or... disgustingly... to those of you who may think this is where the story goes downhill) I had an epiphany while at the store yesterday. I was going to buy butternut squash, peel it, cube it, bake it for an hour and mash it up; but THEN while looking for Epsom salts (oh, how I love thee) I stumbled upon the baby food aisle. I saw organic butternut squash baby food and I thought to myself "Hmm... this is exactly what I was going to make for myself. Why would I spend over an hour squashing up butternut squash when it's right here, already made? You know... really, I would be a fool not to buy this." Then I stood staring at it. Then I bought it. And I ate it. And it was good. So there.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFSIhZD1HWbqkwKNVYmeUHk9k6FYFQEjOYAzJIFIrU4A9Zm0juDML9DWadeiKi_gD0A-uLvAGYjD-Pcx5GIhkn-u0zUOsUvwIrRErBnc4jC8jIrRgsxdohlbU0ibKqVClrhalHI983WZFX/s1600/photo+%2525281%252529+rotated.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFSIhZD1HWbqkwKNVYmeUHk9k6FYFQEjOYAzJIFIrU4A9Zm0juDML9DWadeiKi_gD0A-uLvAGYjD-Pcx5GIhkn-u0zUOsUvwIrRErBnc4jC8jIrRgsxdohlbU0ibKqVClrhalHI983WZFX/s320/photo+%2525281%252529+rotated.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-58053912872618882772011-02-24T20:32:00.000-08:002011-04-05T13:11:41.436-07:00Things I Want Thursday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Warning: In the following post, I may sound like a little bit of a winer. I don't mean to sound that way. Sometimes that's just how it comes out.<br />
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I have iPhone fever. I've never really been "into" electronics; but then I married a web developer, and well... the nerdiness just kind of rubs off on you. I've been so frustrated with my phone lately. All it does is make calls... and who wants to do that? Talk to people? Yuck.<br />
I want something snappy... something (shhh) sexy. Something awesome. I want a phone that has apps. Apps that let me pretend I'm drinking beer... or that let me shoot a gun or light a match. Apps that let me play games in which birds kill green pigs. I want a phone that can predict that I am going to spell the word "congeal" in a text... instead of first guessing, for some reason, that I want to spell "Annie"... (hello... it's not even the same amount of letters!).<br />
Nope. Nothing else will do. I want a bona-fide-waste-my-time-heck-of-a-device Apple iPhone.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXp69LN16LFLAkPcmN3lfjcx5vy1bYUv_QBIj4ZRWWv8LXjuFQf7lPI1CRX1_ytiasZgTXM0nfXvEJFXP_ocRy2sMYvgisXcn434pox7EsJ37donIKda_mUn186XeJJ2DpspOTxtcgLiT/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXp69LN16LFLAkPcmN3lfjcx5vy1bYUv_QBIj4ZRWWv8LXjuFQf7lPI1CRX1_ytiasZgTXM0nfXvEJFXP_ocRy2sMYvgisXcn434pox7EsJ37donIKda_mUn186XeJJ2DpspOTxtcgLiT/s320/unnamed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The practical part of me knows that it will probably just all be a waste of time, not to mention more money. But the part of me that is ridiculously emotionally driven doesn't really care. It's high time that I step into the future, bite the bullet, (wait a year until my contract expires) and just do it.</div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-970595053969121445.post-88856184631946983222011-02-23T21:15:00.000-08:002011-04-05T13:18:04.656-07:00Okay... So What If I Do Suck at Blogging?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I really am terrible at this... but no excuses. Last time I blogged, I said that I was going to post pictures celebrating 2010 and my first year of marriage. Well, that didn't happen. BUT, fortunately I have a kickin' husband who put together a awesome video for me for Valentine's Day this year. I figured this was a much easier (though albeit quite a bit lazier) way of letting you all see snippets of our year. It's okay if you don't watch. I won't be offended. It's pretty puke worthy. <br />
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</div><div style="margin: 0px auto; width: 540px;"><object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" height="300" id="vp1CTDrD" width="540"><param name="movie" value="http://static.animoto.com/swf/w.swf?w=swf/vp1&e=1298523827&f=CTDrDTT0a87bWzNGrj7Y2Q&d=226&m=a&r=240p+480p&start_res=480p&i=m&options="></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed id="vp1CTDrD" src="http://static.animoto.com/swf/w.swf?w=swf/vp1&e=1298523827&f=CTDrDTT0a87bWzNGrj7Y2Q&d=226&m=a&r=240p+480p&start_res=480p&i=m&options=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="540" height="300"></embed></object></div></div>Markiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10158410915840658581noreply@blogger.com2