Mon Petit Palais

Couldn't resist--I scored this doormat and other items below this morning from my daily OKL sales. I am having so much fun with M adding special pieces to the apartment, and I love that these each have a story. I think I may actually get TOO emotionally connected as a consumer, as I'm very picky until I find something that hits all the marks, and then I "invite" that piece into my home [clearly a sacred and exclusive club], and I have to look at it every day...so yeah, it had better have been worth the purchase. Also it should be noted that I am not a hoarder and I fight an internal battle between  a) the joy of having "new stuff" that makes your home sparkle and  b) the even greater joy of finding elation in non-material things. But perhaps the most fun is thinking about new ways to share our place [and its hot tub--rawr] with friends for upcoming occasions, as isolation with one's purchases does not a happy home make. Sharing and giving = happiness; please refer to previous post.

This pillow was selected by Nathan Turner of Bravo's Million Dollar Decorators from a collection of his favorite accessories from India. The ikat pattern is inspiring. Gives me the desire-to-travel itch [the good kind].

So naturally when I do take my next voyage, I'll be using these Greek-inspired luggage tags from Jonathan Adler's eponymous label. He used to be a potter before his foray into interior design, and I've always thought he was so effective with color and pattern, in a world where pattern can be clutter to the eyes. I could probably be happy just sitting in my room watching my luggage wear these tags...ok, so that's a lie--I'll go somewhere far away, and I'll miss you, and I'll write to you with these:

He just had to go a step further and provide the matching Greek stationery. These presh pear-pattern envelopes say "You're Pearfect," so naturally I could not pass up a pun, in green, on a notecard. Sold.

When I return from this as-of-now-fictitious trip, you'll come over, and we'll share a bottle of wine from this decanter. This one is made by a sweet little brand called Kiss That Frog--they import French-themed decor pieces, and they make me feel like wine and cheese would be appropriate at ten o'clock in the morning at my workplace. I don't feel justified in calling myself a Francophile, having never been to France, but I so look forward to when I will one day visit. Until then, I will watch House Hunters International and cry that I don't have a vineyard in my backyard, or a 12th-century wood burning oven on which to bake a pizza, or a natural spring bathing pool in my hallway. One day.

[Interested in joining the One King's Lane site and browsing the sales? Click here. You're Welcome. You'd think they were paying me to write these by now, but I seriously swear that I just enjoy discounted pillows and things.]

By the way: all of the above, combined, cost a smidge over one large. In my world, that's $100. Including delivery.

Stress in the City (or Small Steps Towards a Big Payoff?)

(Yes, I have the coffee mug and the poster up as daily affirmations)

Part of embracing city life is actually enjoying it. Not faking it, not pleasing people for approval, but really enjoying your own unique life in all its awkward and fumbling glory. Sometimes satisfaction and feeling connected to the grid comes naturally; other days I feel like a foreign body in an eyeball. So disclaimer: this post is not about sassy shoes, theme parties, the beach, or pay-by-the-ounce frozen yogurt. Gotta deal with what's underneath, so that when the pretty all rises to the surface you've got something solid beneath it (and there are only so many times Yogurtland can fortify my dignity).

Some days, city living can put you through the ringer, whether it's feeling like every lane is the slow lane (in EVERY situation where a lane is possible, in consecutive situations), or realizing the only arable land you own is a dead potted plant, or owning up to the rat race that earned you a patronizing boss but lost you a paycheck to cover rent in an apartment that may--but probably does not--have a washer-dryer in unit. I am stressed even writing that. And for what? A recent study found that city dwellers showed increased activity in the amygdala--that lovable, almond-shaped part of your brain--when given the same mental task as our more even-keeled rural and townie neighbors. It's essentially a part of the brain integral to fear processing and self-protection.

I'd like to propose an analogy: this result reminds me of the ADT home-security system commercials, with the good-looking home-security guy who answers the phone when a rabid Viking breaks in your house...except in this example, the "security threat" was a harmless squirrel who snuck in the doggie door...i.e., a non-stressful stimulus triggers a stressful reaction. As I write this, in fact, I stress over the possibility that city life may in fact not have made me more capable of handling stress, but nay: it may have increased my stress and fear response in situations where my pals with porches and yards are, quite frankly, kicking ass and kicking back.

So how to cope? The funny thing is, it's so simple. You're stressin' to the max, then all of a sudden, while you're settling into your self-pitious fog:

LAUGH. Laugh, I tell you. This is Small Step One in a quest for a happier and less active amygdala. We get our LOLs in unexpected ways, and I'm telling you, laugh at those initial stressors. Laugh (in your head please) at the lady in the Trader Joes line, in front of you, who had that hidden shopping cart full in addition to her basket and it's gonna be an hour and your meter will expire because of this. Laugh (loudly out loud) at the terrible driver who slows down but never turns. Laugh (very quietly and to appropriate persons) about your boss and his micromanaging of your every staple. Laugh, by all means, at the fact that you have spent so much money on that tandem parking space, because when you laugh, you are laughing with all of us.*

*everyone on the 405 is TOTALLY cracking up at how funny it is that it takes two hours to get over the hill.

I don't even have to tell you about all the wonderful chemicals you release when you really, truly laugh. So please, keeping doing that. When you've had your fill, think about Step Two: Giving. Laughing and giving are very close, actually, as the best laughs are shared. In a more serious sense, I am realizing that fulfillment is an open-cycle of happiness and giving. Yes; that is layers of vague on top of vague, but if you think you can hoard the Happy all to yourself, you're crazy. I'll be working on ways to articulate this Giving I speak of, but I might need to get back to you next week...heading to Vegas tomorrow morning to see Britney Spears in concert, and I don't know what the heck is going to materialize over the next 48 hours. Not a clue. But believe you me, I will be laughing, and I will be giving (my money to a blackjack dealer).

Oh and don't for a second think that I've forgotten to post photos and musings from a Southern wedding. Just waiting for the pro pictures. And then I will go all sentimental on you, and you will regret ever having wanted me to post pictures from my weekend in rural Louisiana. NO ONE loves a snow cone like I do.

My dog, my Abita beer, and my hot tub bid you a wonderful weekend.

Victory is Mine.

So for weeks, I've been looking at rugs for our place. A good wood floor deserves a fancy outfit. New to the rug world, if there is such a thing, I soon discovered that higher-end and designer rugs can set you back several thousand. Since that's not happening, I've been aggressive about finding the right one at the right price like a heat-seeking missile. Or a rug-seeking missle. After discovering this weekend that my dude-friends are stepping it up in the home decor arena, and very nicely so I might add, I put my foot down (in my head) and said (also, in my head) "Enough--these rug-procrastination shenanigans must end"...in other words, I told myself to look at Crate and Barrel on my lunch break.

HOWEVER as luck would have it, I'm happy to announce (because you all care) that I scored our new rug this morning from a One King's Lane sale...absolutely in love! I got the sale email while I was brushing my teeth and it was ON--I was not letting this one get away. This one sold out by 9am so I feel pretty vindicated for locking it down.

I felt like a turtle with a strawberry. Rug down, wall to go...

In-between posts post

I have lots to write about--
the beautiful South, weddings, new design obsessions, and some fantastic pictures of my dog.
All coming soon!

For now, I just had to share that I'm wearing the world's most comfortable pants that can possibly pass as work attire. Softer and more appropriate than leggings, and perfect with everything from heels to boots to flats, I present to you the Slouchy Pant:

Photo courtesy of Victoria's Secret

After my early gym session, these were perfect to wear at the coffee shop while I studied, then on to work, errands, and a meeting. Because while my button-down says business on top, my slouchy pants say "it's party/naptime." Brilliant.