from that thrift shop down the road

sometimes the work week is just so much work, am i right?

today i escaped my apathy and boredom at my desk and headed to my favorite thrift shop, which is more consignment-meets-hoarders, and is one of those places where you take really shallow breaths to avoid inhaling centuries of dust and mildew and god knows what else.  it is awesome.  i was not in the mood to spend money today, which is usually the case, which makes me wonder why i ever go shopping at all?  but oh, the clothes and the trinkets!

i walked right in the front door and found this black lucite chair for only $28 and the skies parted and the angels sang and even as i thought “where on earth will i put this?” i thought for sure that i had found a priceless treasure.

lucitechair

just to be sure, i sent a picture of the chair to my long distance girlfriend ashley,. who introduced me to said thrift shop, and asked her opinion, assuming she’d be all, hell yeah you go GET you that lucite chair!  but then things took a turn.

me: how badly do i need this $28 lucite chair?
ash: uncomfy and sure to look outdated soon enough. i don’t think it’ll be a good investment.

my soul was crushed, until i received her followup text.

ash: my husband would say that it looks like it belongs in a Miami hotel room where people snort cocaine.

with that, i slowly backed away from the chair, strangely validated in my rejection of the once hopeful seat.  we hardly knew ye, lucite chair!

i spent the rest of my tour taking pictures of ridiculous things and sending them to hubs with messages like “this monkey lamp is worth $100 right?” and “how much do you love this poster of a lady walking two afghans?”  he knows better than to protest too much, so i left the thrift shop empty-handed on my own accord.

here is a glimpse of some of the other treasures that i passed up.

stroh’s is probably the worst beer in the world.  there were 12 of these mugs.  hubs drinks stroh’s sometimes if it’s the $1 beer special at our local restaurant that allows you to bring your dog.  needless to say, we eat there a lot.

strohsmug

upon further relfection, i seriously regret not getting these tiny busts of unknown (to me) Swiss composers which also wind up and play music!  shoulda gone back for these babies.

musicboxbusts

the illustrious monkey lamp.

monkeylamp

a plaque that i 100% seriously wanted to buy for my father-in-law, though i was uncomfortable with the reference to an “old” fisherman.  nobody wants to be called old, right?  but i think my mother-in-law would have approved of the reference to his “best catch”.

fishplaque

and the afghan poster, which is quite possibly the most hideous thing i’ve ever seen at a thrift store.  we both know that’s not true.  but it left quite the impression on me.

afghans

i mean, right?

this concludes our thrift store adventures for today, and possibly ever.  it was exhausting wading through all of the W.S.S.A. (Worthless Shit that Sits Around ™).  until next time!

there is no “i” in yoga

it’s true, that there is no “i” in yoga…but there is a “yo”, and i would like you to remember that.

a few years ago, when hubs and i lived in an apartment in another part of the city, we belonged to a super awesome crunch fitness that had the best fitness classes and was never more than 20% full of people working out…which is probably why it closed its doors shortly after we joined.

at the time i would go to yoga at crunch maybe twice a week.  it was a big room, everybody could spread out, and it was quiet and peaceful, but also a good workout.  when they transferred our memberships to a nearby la fitness without asking us, i came to find that the yoga classes were packed all the time.  by the way, so were the treadmills.  there were 30 treadmills (not exaggerating) and they were all taken, all the time.

when we bought our house we joined a nearby 24 hour fitness, which has no classes.  i miss my crunch yoga classes.  one of our neighbors urged me to look into the class schedule at our local rec center, and finally, this spring, i signed up for rec center yoga.  i was stoked.

this yoga class is very different from the other ones i have taken.  i am the youngest person by a solid 20 years.  the room is tiny, has low ceilings, and does not provide a lot of space between you and your yogi neighbor.  the instructor is bubbly and talkative, and people ask questions.  oh they ask questions!

“what is this supposed to feel like in my hip joint?” “i have weak knees, do you think i can do this pose?” “can you personally tailor this class to my needs and my needs only?” (i made that last one up.) we spend probably 30% of the class talking about yoga, and not actually doing any yoga.

interactive yoga seems kind of like the opposite of how yoga is supposed to go, right?

the first 3 classes were normal, and i could tell i was becoming much more flexible, especially in my hamstrings.  i have also been complimented by the instructor on my “very open hips”, so take that for what you will.

but then in week 4, our instructor surprised us with partner poses.  partner poses, i tell you!  putting your body on another stranger’s body!  my worst nightmare, probably!

that week, a stranger got very hands-on with my lower-lower back.  on week 5, i had to put my bare feet against the bare feet of a sheepish but sweaty older man.  then we held hands and pulled our faces towards each other.  week 6 involved putting my hands on someone else’s lower back and gently rocking their body back and forth.  YOU GUYS.  I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS.

week 7 offer a sweet respite from stranger touching, and i was thrilled.  but this week, week 8, when it came time to get dressed for yoga, i just didn’t have it in me to sit in a dark room and touch somebody else.  could not do it again.

so i stayed home and vowed to do a yoga video alone in my basement.  oh, my beloved yoga video.  the one that asks that you “soften the belly” and “breath into your kidneys” and “relax your palate”.  i will take you over creepy and uncomfortable partners yoga any day.

though sometimes it is difficult to concentrate on the video, thanks to a certain someone who does a very convincing downward-facing dog.

busteryoga

Pensacola, Pensacola, Here We Cooooooome

it finally happened.  after months of prodding, guilting, and possibly some crying, hubs finally relented and took me to the beach this weekend.  and oh, what a weekend it was!

we made the 6 hour drive from atlanta to pensacola beach on thursday after work.  here i am getting jazzed for the car ride, because typically 4 hours is my whiney limit.  but i did okay this time!  i wore this obnoxious shirt so hubs wouldn’t lose me in any alabama gas stations.

roadtripselfie

i continue to be horrified by hubs’s taste in car ride candy.  i am a reese’s pieces girl myself.

peachringsvom

we stayed at the holiday inn express, because all of the rooms have oceanfront balconies, and also hubs had enough points to make our 3 night stay completely free.  free is my favorite.

my point-and-shoot camera died a slow, jerky death upon our arrival, so all of these pictures are iphone pictures, and possibly not of the best quality?  that being said, here is the moon over the ocean!

moonoverocean

we checked in at about 11:00 p.m. central time, and wanted to go out to get a celebratory beverage.  the only place open was one of the top 5 sketchiest bars i have ever been to, called sandshaker lounge & package.  emphasis on the “& package”.  that should tell you everything you need to know.

hubs and i had a round of beer, and then when he went back for seconds, this happened:

hubs: what do you want to drink this time?
me: i’ll take another blue moon.
hubs: okay i’ll get you a bushwacker.
me: so, just to reiterate, i want a blue moon.
hubs: bushwacker it is!

(5 minutes later, hubs sets down my not-blue-moon)

bushwacker

hubs: i’m so sorry.
me: don’t apologize, you knew what i wanted.
hubs: no, i am REALLY SORRY about this drink.  i think it’s the worst drink i’ve ever had.
me: well what does it taste like?
hubs: dishwater…dirty dishwater.

and you know what you guys?  it totally did taste like dirty dishwater.  and i drank hubs’s beer and he drank the bushwacker, and all was right with the world.

anyway.

the next morning, we ate the free hotel breakfast (toast w/ peanut butter and banana slices, oh yes), and then did some shopping, mostly at circle K to stock up on beach suppiles.  and by beach supplies, i mean booze.  specifically, this booze.  it hit the spot.

limearite

we spent most of friday beaching, beveraging, and have a damn good time.  we rented one of those 2 person wooden beach chairs, and if you were situated just so, you could close your eyes and pretend like you were in maui instead.  sort of.

then we did early bird dinner at pegleg pete’s which i neglected to photograph?  probably because i was famished.  we came back to the hotel and fell asleep on accident, and then woke up at 9:30 and scrambled to go back out, as adults do.

our hotel was less than a mile from all of the big restaurants on pensacola beach, but in between us and the food was jimmy buffett’s margaritaville hotel, which we may have walked to on more than one occasion for a real margarita.  the hotel was nice!  way nicer than i would’ve thought.  if we go back, we would maybe stay here instead?  tbd.

on our walk from margaritaville to second dinner at flounder’s late friday night, we stumbled upon this sign that totally made my night.

dogwalkerssign

and then we went to flounder’s and had a diesel fuel, which is supposed to be lethal, and while it did taste good, it did not knock me on my ass, so i was slightly disappointed.  but their chowder was delicious.

annieanddieselfuel

also, worth noting, i am not on drugs in this picture.  the flash was bright and i was fighting the urge to give the stink-eye to the girl at the table behind us who kept squawking “HATERS!!” throughout dinner.  i think she liked the diesel fuels?

on saturday we paid the $1.25 fee to walk to the end of the world’s longest pier* and watch about 200 shirtless men fish.  it was okay.

pensacolapier

onthepier

this was taken from the end of the pier.  the closer hotel is margaritaville, and the other one is our HIE, for reference.

pensacolahotels

pensacolabeachfromthepier

we also partook in a few frozen drinks from bamboo willie’s, which is just like wet willie’s, but with redeemable bushwackers.  and an electric lemonade that i didn’t totally hate.

electriclemonade

and then we had more beach time, followed by more napping.  my two favorite activities of all time.

we capped off our weekend with dinner at crabs! we got ‘em.  we ate some oysters and watched a hermit crab race, and had more delicious drinks.  and then we were too tired from all the beach time to do anything else notable.  so we were vegetables for the rest of the night.

oysters

on sunday morning we got up, regretfully packed our belongings, and headed back to atlanta on what would become a 6 hour rain-soaked car ride.

overall it was amazing to get away, even for just a short 2 days.  it is always good to spend some quality time with each other and away from the hubbub of our daily lives.  additionally, i may have tipsily told hubs he could buy a big green egg if he takes me to new york later this summer, so there may be more travel in our future yet.  we will see!

pensacolapanarama

*unverified and probably not true.

men are afraid of eyebrows: an observation

you know what i have noticed? hubs is terrified of me changing my eyebrows in any way shape or form. my eyebrows are normal: not too thin, not too bushy, nothing special going on between my eyes and my hairline. but twice in recent history has hubs shown concern for any sort of eyebrow experimentation. two earth-shattering conversations, for your reading pleasure.

justtthebrowsandthedog

[on filling in my eyebrows with eyebrow filler or whatever it's called]

me: sara colored in her eyebrows, and they look really good, i was thinking-
hubs: please don’t do that to your eyebrows.
me: what, fill them in?
hubs: yeah.
me: do you even know what that means?
hubs: no, but please don’t do it.
me: i wouldn’t make them like crazy black caterpillar eyebrows or anything, i just-
hubs: PLEASE DON’T.
me: …okay.

[on trimming my eyebrows with scissors, as women do]

me: i think i need to have erin teach me how to trim my eyebrows, they’re not bushy but i’m afraid the hairs are getting too long.
hubs: no your eyebrows are fine.
me: how would you know? you’re a boy.
hubs: you don’t need to trim them, they’re fine the way they are.
me: but what if they’re too lo-
hubs: PLEASE DON’T.
me: …okay.

what i’m realizing now is that it’s probably my mistake for mentioning my eyebrows to my husband in the first place? because he was probably picturing a worst-case-scenario when i brought them up:

crazybrows

or do you think my husband just has this other-worldly sense for when eyebrows need or don’t need work? marriage, am i right?

how to keep pollen off of a screened in porch, and other things

every spring in atlanta, when the pollen descends from the trees and into our lives, we are ostracized from our screened in porch during the time of year when it would be most enjoyable.  so this year, we took matters into our own hands and (desperately) tried to keep the effing pollen out of our porch.  behold!

pollenscreenedinporch

we bought a $10 roll of clear poly (not quite clear, as you can see) and stapled all the way around our porch to create a barrier against the pollen.  we also used masking tape to keep the seams sealed.  and you know what?  so far so good!  I think this keeps the pollen at bay! 

though, we do not exactly enjoy the porch while it is dressed up as one of dexter’s victims, and it is creepy as hell to sit at the table and eat dinner while surrounded by plastic.  but at least we won’t have to clean up the pollen before we can use the porch again.

pollenscreenedinporch2

and we look super classy, our neighbors are not skeeved out at all.

though after we had done this, we realized we could have just removed all of the cushion before the pollen came, and then rinsed the pollen away once it was done.  oh well.

some other things we’ve done around the house in the name of spring and general getting stuff done-ness:

i bought this mirror a few months ago at goodwill.  it was bright gold.  and hubs took one look at it and declared that it was “the penis mirror”.  and i showed it to my sisters, and they may have agreed with him.  but that didn’t keep me from painting it blue and hanging it in our upstairs hallway.

inappropriatemirror

[those are my painting clothes, I promise I don’t go out in public wearing soccer shorts.  also, full disclosure, I have never played soccer.]

the print is new and by an artist named elizabeth mayville.  I found it on etsy and I am obsessed.  the table is a homegoods find, and now that I look at it, I feel like it’s super off-white and needs to be painted…maybe next year.

and YES that is a futon in the next room don’t judge me!

one last major crazy thing I took care of on sunday night was painting our stairwell!  it is, mmmmm, 95% done?  but the last 5% is going to be the WORST.  uggggghhhhhhh.

paintedstairwell

i’m sorry the light is so bad but hubs turned off the lights downstairs right as i took this picture.

painting the stairwell finally connects the downstairs, which has been painted since before we moved in 2.5 years ago, and the upstairs hallway that I painted recently.  except, you know, now I have to figure out how to finish it without getting paint on the ceiling.  because I have NO IDEA what color paint goes on the ceiling in our house, so i have nothing to touch it up with.  god help us.

i will say that painting with an extender pole filled me with so much glee.  to be able to reach a point on the wall that was 3 times my height was strangely exhilirating.  okay so hubs may have done the VERY tippy top of the wall, but 90% of the 95% of the stairwell was done by yours truly.

throughout these home improvement endeavors, buster has continued to have no physical boundaries whatsoever.  he also needs a haircut so very badly.

bustergreenchair

finally, i cannot conclude this post without showing you the most amazing thing that happened at an irish pub this weekend.  my good friend (we will call her melamine) looked into her beer and saw someone winking back at her.

smilingbeer

most people see jesus in their food.  we get creepy smiley faces.  sounds about right.

new to me tunes that you should listen to also

my interest in new music tends to ebb and flow, and right now it is flowing, baby! here are my current favorite jams. you’re welcome!

it’s been a while since i heard a song (that i’m not embarrassed by) that makes me want to dance. sia is one of my all-time faves (she wrote rihanna’s “diamonds” and that “i am ti-taaaaay-neeeee-ummmmmmm” song that was everywhere last year but is not super famous for her own stuff) and this (bring night) is a great jam that i think you should listen to and then get up and dance along with RIGHT NOW.

lorelai by fleet foxes. it makes me want to have a baby so i can bounce it on my knee to the beat of this song, do i have problems?

i like this song a lot more than i should, considering that it is by fall out boy. but the chorus is stupid catchy (“i’m on fiiiiyaaaaa!!!”) and i’m loving it.

um have you heard of lindsey sterling yet? she is a super cute pop violinist who generously employs dubstep in her songs. i’m borderline obsessed. especially by her cover of radioactive with a capella group pentatonix. i die.

if you listen to alt nation on XM, which i only get to do when i ride in hubs’s truck (lifeissohardiknow), you have probably heard neighbourhood’s “sweater weather” one million times already. but that doesn’t make it any less catchy, yet.

if you’re in the mood to curl up in a ball under your desk and have a good cry, this cover of radiohead’s “paranoid andriod” by sia (see above) is gorgeous.

and lastly, this song has so many things in it that i hate (80’s drums, synth man voices in the chorus, a weird hipster title – “everything is embarrassing” see?) but somehow it all gels together and i can’t stop listening to it.

i was just going to talk about bring night and then i got carried away. i just want everyone i know and don’t know to love these songs as much as i do.

i’m sorry.

middle children are okay!

hi, my name is anne and i’m a middle child.

growing up, i was the second of 3 girls.  my older sister is 2.33 years my senior, and my younger sister is 2.97 years my junior.  there is a fourth sister, but she was born when i was 13 so she’s basically a whole ‘nother generation.

3sisters
[my shirt is backwards here.  probably because i was a neglected middle child.]

recently, i’ve had multiple people with children ask my opinion on the welfare of their youngest if they have another kid.  one posed the question with concern by asking, “how do you think our second will fare, you know, if we have…a third?  will they be okay?”  another posed the question almost with contempt: “well we have the two, and we WANT more, but we don’t want the second one to suffer, you know, as a middle child.”

can i just say something here?  being a middle child is AWESOME.

unless you are an extrovert and/or like attention.

as far as i’m concerned, my childhood was a freaking blast.  i was always flanked by my sisters.  i was the 2nd of 3 but i always felt special and unique.  i got to try every sport i had a hankering for.  i got to quit every sport i had a hankering for after 1 year when i got bored with it.  i liked team sports the best because i wasn’t solely responsible if we lost.  once i got good enough at tennis to move from doubles to singles, i quit, because i didn’t like the attention.

3sisters4
[totally content being the mickey to my older sister's minnie.]

i had my own birthday parties, i had my own identity, and it was the best.  no regrets, yolo, and all the jazz.

now i also must disclose that i was a painfully shy child and did not like attention.  one time, at the mall of america, i made my younger sister return something for me because i was too embarrassed to talk to the salesperson.  i didn’t like attention in the first place, so not being the center of it did not pain me one bit.

and as an adult, there is no pressure to show up to things because i’m the only child or one of two or something.  i never felt like i was compared to or competing with either of my sisters.  i like being part of a crowd and being able to slip in and out, taking a backseat and watching from afar.  i am comfortable with this.

[which is why it is EXTRA weird when hubs and i are the only "kids" at his parents' house at christmas.  it's like someone holding you down and tickling you and watching to see if you pee your pants.]

3sisters5
[just because they didn't let me sit in the chair with my sisters doesn't mean i wasn't loved equally, probably!]

here are some fun facts about middle child syndrome that i found on the interwebz, and would like to dispel:

“Middle children often feel left out and invisible” – just the way i like it!

“Middle children tend to be more outgoing and flexible than their older and younger siblings.” – not even a little bit true in my case!

“Middle children tend to be ‘rebels,’ more so than their other siblings.” – nope, i am a giant chicken!

“Middle children are characterized by low self-esteem and extreme introversion, sometimes even leading to psychotic behavior.” – no…wait, am i a psychopath?  tbd.

“Middle children are also usually considered outcasts in their families.” – alright, let’s relax, everyone!

3sisters2
[if i close my eyes will i disappear completely? i wondered at the tender age of 4.]

now, are there times when i wished i was maybe a little more at the forefront of my parents’ thoughts?  maybe.  has one my parents’ forgotten the “e” on the end of “anne” on more than one occasion?  perhaps!  are there downsides to being a middle child?  probably.

but current and future parents, you need to calm down.  love your kids all the same and they will turn out fine.  and if they complain about being a middle child someday, tell them to calm down, too.

3sisters3[see? WE ARE AWESOME!  everybody calm down.]