because it's a snow day...

and i always buy summer shoes and or bathers on snow days.

let's pretend this is not a desperate, painful, passive-aggro whinge. let's pretend i need summer shoes. say yes.

so these...




or these...




or neither, for that matter.

i would very much appreciate your opinion. and i kind of hope you tell me to buy the first pair. also, what do you know about wooden wedges? i have the same shoes from yoox with a corkier wedge and they are amazingly comfy and they make my legs look skinny. always a bonus when shoes double as magicians.

my apologies for mucking up your day with silly issues. you know how i am when i'm chilled. xoxo.

nothing to see here...

i'm just thinking about this.

it may solve my switchy-bag issues, but i also feel like ombré is over. i'm also feeling like ombré being over might not apply to this bag.

told you. nothing to see here. xoxo.

too much...

too much to tell you right now...

i always get silent when the sun's shining. you know this by now. but soon enough, i'll be chilled again and chatty.

so. remind me to tell you about sidra forman and my lacrosse thugs and a little bully that i just nipped in the butt.

{whenever i say nipped in the bud, esmé repeats it to her dolls or her sisters as nipped in the butt. i am a fan of her version. it sounds more aggro. she also pronounces freckles as fruckles, which sounds kind of swearish to me. big fan of swearish these days, too.}




and remind me to tell you about peck peck. it has replaced tazing at our house. do you remember how uncle sugar hates tazing? he thinks that's what killed harry houdini, but we think he's being a small baby. anyway. peck peck is exactly the same as tazing except you get to say peck peck and taze the person twice. and by person, i mean uncle sugar.

hmmm. there is no longer a need for you to remind me to tell you about peck peck. i think i just covered it all.

these legs remind me of summer. i like that reminder. have a sweet weekend, you! xoxo. me.

overheard...

one of the girlies' teachers was away from school for months and ages and far too long, really.

everyone in the know was supra hush-hush about it all, and since i'm not too terribly invested in this place for some reason...i just started making up stories in my head.




and you know my stories. they. are. good. plus he's creepy. creative, but a really creepy dude. like, can't talk to adults creepy, too-many shady and ambiguous stickers on his car creepy, and bald mullet creepy.

{that's what we writers like to call foreshadowing.}

so last night, lill and grae were reading and studying, and i overheard this exchange. please read it not in what you'd assume to be lill and grae's giggly, over-excited at all times voices. instead, read it in monotone.

grae: mr. creepy's back at school.

lill: what'd he say?

grae: nothing. he's bald.

lill: they shave your head in prison.

and then silence. back to reading and studying.




they're going to be friends when they grow up, aren't they? i'm so hoping...

oh. his name is not really mr. creepy, either. i've changed the names to protect the shaved ex-inmates. photos from here.

lips...

i bought the girlies two the perfect shade of pink for their lips.

it is called o-gloss by smashbox. i love it because it's intuitive, and colors them with that usually unattainable little girl sweetness.

my girl at nordstrom giggled when i bought two, and said something like "are these for lillie and grae?" and then kept giggling.

so i said yes and then she stopped giggling and packaged them up prettily just the way i like.




i think the o stands for something that i had not thought about when i was choosing the perfect shade of pink for their lips.

so i may need to borrow an o-word from you. one that makes sense. because all i've got this morning is octopus and onomatopoeia.

lips from a delightful little tumblr with the sweet name of black nazi. what is wrong with me today?!

i've got to...

remind me to tell you a story about this weekend. it's a good one.

for now, just a quick smooch in honor of the day. i'm celebrating with the girlies three, an uncle sugar, a new pair of ray bans because old-school makes me happy, and a little more tom ford so i smell like myself again.




for a while, i was smelling guilty. that is a very good smell, but i was not a fan of the name. sometimes i think the name has more to do with it than the actual aroma, don't you?

maybe that's why i love naming babies so much. and why i've never named one whoops-a-daisy or how-the-heck-did-this-happen.

pat made a brilliant pre-valentine's day meal for us last night. blood-red filets and angel-hair with mussels and a devil's food cake. there's a theme in there somewhere.




the house still smells like seared meat. do you know that smoky, yummy smell? yes. it's actually only yummy as it's happening. the next morning, not so much.

esmé woke up and smiled, though. her daddy was long gone to work, but she thought she could still smell him.

awesome. uncle sugar smells like steak. i shall gobble him up tonight.

happy valentine's day, you! and look. no swearing and no yelling at commenters! baby steps, friends. baby steps. xoxo. pictures from here.

the running man...

so we hired this neighbor guy to work on some things around our house.

he's out of work and uncle sugar's heart breaks a little when that happens to a man, and so now we're getting all our electrical outlets spruced up.

anyway. he walked in yesterday, saw our kitchen, and told me it was hands down his dream room.

between me and you, i hate our kitchen. i mean, it's super pretty and sunshine-y and there's space for everyone to sit at the long island counter...wait. where was i? hating my kitchen? i think i just fell in love with it again.




it's like that sometimes, isn't it? someone gives you a real compliment from the heart and you find yours again.

last night, just past homework and just before showers and empty threats, we were all in that kitchen. i was telling pat that the neighbor guy had effused over it, and grae stopped what she was doing {pretending not to eavesdrop} and asked he loved our kitchen?

and i could see it happen all over again, through her eyes this time.

i could tell you about how i'm not a fan of the oven and microwave and cupboard space, but i won't. {you're thinking to yourself because you don't use any of that stuff anyway, karey! yes. you know me.} i'd rather tell you about the dance party we had last night in that kitchen.

to the romantic stylings of t-pain and three six mafia, the girlies two taught uncle sugar and esmé some of their hoochiest dance moves. that i taught them. the ones that are not allowed out of this house. and uncle sugar taught them some of his...uhhh...i don't really have a word for his moves.

but i bet if you saw them, you'd tell me they were hands down your favorites. and then i'd believe it, too.

it's like that sometimes, isn't it?

my apologies for the comment i left sweet eliza in yesterday's post. i was going to delete it after i had my espresso, but then i thought i would not. sometimes i am a crappy person who uses shite words. i just am. anyway. if i offended any friends i like and love, i'm supra sorry. xoxo. kitchen from here.

chilly...

i'm a daydreamer. you knew this already, though.

and when i'm chilled to my fingertips, i tend to buy unnecessary objects. like this bather.

plus also too much laura mercier in shy pink, deborah lippmann superstar, and this dyson.

it's apparently been a very. chilly. week.

i told uncle sugar it would be cheaper to move me to an island where i wouldn't probably need the dyson. i could leave that guy behind. i could.

it would probably be healthier, too. because when it's chilly, i tend to read laziz hamani too much and then copy his work. one of my favorite laziz hamani books is this one.

see what i'm telling you? get me to a hot island. pronto.

i could probably not leave behind tumblr, though, where are things lovely live. like this new one i just found. awesome girl with awesome style.

as of this writing...

i've got a student of the month, a spelling bee alternate, and a girlie who just came home from school proudly presenting an amazingly accurate picture of a woman caught in a bear trap. she has piggie-tails.

but here's what i like best about all that...




my student of the month was named as such with one caveat: knock off the unnecessary chatter. i'm a big fan of the side conversation, mom. she tells me. my teacher says you must be a saint. she tells me. i do make some mean jesus-y eggs.

my starry starry night. my lillie kate. waking up the moon with her shimmer.




my spelling bee alternate didn't study and didn't really want me to come because i don't want you to see me fail, mom.

when one of her favorite boys misspelled his word, his eyes teared up with embarrassment and young boy dashed hopes. in a flip second, he looked at grae and she scowled, shook her head, and i think she whispered something like who cares? this is nothing.

whatever she said, it stopped the tears from coming.

silly girl. she could've spelled every word wrong and backwards with her devil of an indian accent and i still wouldn't think fail.

my clear blue sky. my grae-rose.




this afternoon, esmé came out of school with her teacher and i could see that they were having a pretty interesting conversation. apparently, the woman had never seen such a pattern and color explosion on a little girl.

esmé was waving her little hand dismissively. i guess she told her teacher this is all really old. nothing too expensive.

the next time we see each other, ask me about anything i'm wearing. bet you a hundred bucks i wave my hand dismissively and tell you eight dollars. on sale sale sale at barneys. it's insane the traits you pass on, isn't it?

my rainbow and always sunny ten-day forecast. my esmé dahlia.

who cares? this is nothing.

today, i'm in love with my job. can you tell? all stay at home moms from this pinterest pinner.

blood and jesus...

did i tell you that lillie hacked off the tip of her thumb this weekend?

you know grae's always been uncle sugar's mini-me in the kitchen. well...lillie kate is mine. add a mandolin and some apples to the mix, and we're pretty much guaranteed a trip to the emergency.




we were sitting in the next room. pat had shown her and warned her and warned her again, but this is lillie, remember? you talk and she's nodding sweetly, all the while trying to remember all the words to without me by eminem.

{that girl, i swear, will someday enter some talent show near you. as a rapper. keep an eye out for her, will you? and clap extra hard for me, will you?}

she yelled OHMYGOSH! like she was excited or something. i assumed she'd just cut the perfect apple slice or found a worm. something...exciting. but straight-away, uncle sugar put his head in his hands for about a half-second, sighed, and then got up to run to the kitchen.




he knew. and he was so mad at himself. he kept looking at me and lill with those chocolate browns of his, saying over and over i knew it. i knew it. this is my fault. what was i thinking? you're just like your mother. you two never need to step into a kitchen. grae and i will cook for you. ugh, i knew this would happen.

blah blah blah looks like someone's got a new cook! i will accept your kind offer, young man, and raise you the laundry room. say yes?

the blood was insane. poor lill needed me to look at it and tell her it would be okay because boys aren't trustworthy when it comes to stuff like that. it's why they're all scarred up and bearded. but you know i faint when my babies break, so i tried to look at it cross-eyed and convincingly. i still had to sit down and drink some orange juice. it was not a good.

of course, esmé and grae were beside themselves. those three are so connected, it scares me to death. it just does. but love that strong always scares me to death, doesn't it.

esmé asked WHY WOULD GOD DO THIS TO LILLIE?

she is crazy about god, but still can't seem to understand that he might not be micro-managing every little bump and scrape and mandolin accident we ever have. heck, i don't even really understand it. i just stay away from mandolins.




i tried to explain as best i could, but by now you know my best usually has lots of holes in it. whatever. my intentions are paving a road somewhere.

this morning, i made esmé cheesy eggs before school. she ate them all, wiped her mouth, and told me she thought today would be a good day with no accidents. no bad things. she just knew it.

why?

god will like it that you made me jesus-y eggs.

there's so much wrong with that, i can't even deal. but i'll take it, young lady, and raise you tomorrow, too. say yes.

all photos via this pinterest pinner. all things lillie and i probably will never make without injuring ourselves. happy wednesday, friends. xoxo.

a weight on my chest...

so this thing in egypt is heavy on our souls, yes?

i can't help but think this is one of those moments that will matter. a domino of sorts. and i don't know anything about anything, but it burns me that all was well about a week ago. not to dumb it down at all - at. all. - but i would think...being a parent and all...that someone was supposed to be watching out for things like this.




{hmm. i've just deleted three vehement paragraphs. you don't need my world worries here. let me tell you another story, then.}

last night, esmé couldn't get enough of me. like, couldn't get close enough. actually said "we were made for each other, weren't we?"




she fell asleep on top of me, all long-limbed sprawl, and i must've fallen asleep, too.

around midnight, i woke with a gasp. forty-five pounds weighing down my chest. my arms were numb and i couldn't move. not. one. stitch. i honestly whimpered "halp."

but no one heard me.




{hmm. this story's going nowhere. like, speedily. and king abdullah of jordan - the one with eyes as blue as the sea and who once called me ma'am - just dismissed his government. off to cnn. maybe i'll try again tomorrow. until then. also, to my favorite sisters three over there? don't you even think i've forgotten about you. xoxo. all photos found here.}

whoa...

an egyptian protester kisses a riot police officer.

lots of explaining around these parts these days, lots of missing where we once lived...and all our most hopeful thoughts.

really. all of them.

image i won't soon forget found here.

nothing...

i have so many friends i found at alt summit that i want to share with you, but.

can i just write but and you'll know what i mean? i just met too many who mattered. and then what if i forget one in my summary? that would be a bad.

let me try, though. if i get overwhelmed, i'm just going to stop. is this okay? say yes.




so i walked into the lobby of the grand america to a sea of smiling faces. best. employees. ever.

after i checked in, i strolled over to the bar and was immediately accosted by a sparkle of a sprite in most excellent boots. all i heard was KAREY MACKIN INK! I LOVE YOU! she hooked her arms 'round my neck and i think we spun in a circle and my right foot might have lifted up with love.

hi erin.

{in other news, i'm seriously considering changing my name to karey m. ink. you may pronounce my new last name mink.}




kelly's over there! she pointed, knowing i'd be looking for my design crush. one glass of white later, i'd met some of my new favorites: and kathleen, amy, and capree. and, yes, i will forever in my head call her and kathleen. you should, too. also? ab chao has the cutest accent ever. one that makes you want to call her anna beth, all louisiana-like.

this is boring, isn't it? okay, then. i'll just tell you some of my highlights.

i love how completely naughty amy is just as much as i love how she sat in the front row of my panel with tears in her eyes for the entire hour. i told her she reminds me of my sister in all the best ways, and she teared right up again. i love how suann grabs my arm really really hard when she laughs, and you should know that she laughs all. the. time. even when the tip of her foot is stuck in the elevator doors and i'm pushing the door close buttons as hard as i can to save her.




those darn arrows always confuse me.

i love how melissa went home a day early to be with her baby, gaia miette. how alexis has a trio of chanel bracelets handed down to her by her mom. how caitlin's must've worked extra hard on her to make a girl so full of grace, it's almost unfathomable.

good moms, man. they get me every time.

there was erin's giant smile and legs that never end, paling only in comparison to her ability to make you feel like the only one in every room. jeanne's blonde mane that kind of drove me to covet. christy pretending she wanted a photo with me...while she was waiting patiently for stephanie's never-ending line to wind down. i liked giggling with that girl. i also liked not being disappointed; marta is even better than her blog, trina is honestly la la lovely, and brandi is a keeper and not at all your average ordinary.

i found friends that made me want to move to boston. pronto. paige's smile is one of the most authentic that's ever shined on me, and christine's red lipstick made me want to kiss her. plus also, there was this weird love at first sight thing going on with the three of us. so cool when that happens, isn't it?




speaking of brilliant supermodels, there's my fave kirsten. everyone knows how i despise pictures of myself {i'm way cuter in my imagination!}, but i love love love how happy i look standing next to her in this one. ages ago, joslyn was in a dwell contest, if i remember correctly, and her main competition was this chick from simply grove. it was before we met, kirsten and i, and now i regret not voting for her, too. i would've.

i'm missing a million more, from the genius kirtsy girls to...to...ohmygosh. i just totally lost focus. let me publish this one, and i'll add more when my mind unfogs.

do you really think my mind will ever unfog? ugh. that's another post altogether. catch you later, friends. all photos stolen from jamie flannigan's pinterest. i hope she doesn't mind! xoxo.

waking up...

i miss my grand america coffee.




for two years running, joslyn and i began every morning at alt design summit the same. exact. way.

we'd head to bed at around midnight. talk until one thirty. she'd ask are we getting coffee in the morning? and i'd narrow my eyes and ask do you want me to call down and arrange it? and she'd smile smugly in the dark and answer that would be great.




i guess i was closer to the phone. whatever. {she's bossy! do not tell her i told you this.}

so then we'd sleep until the doorbell rang, which was usually dark o'clock. i'd gasp straight up in bed, say i'll get that, and then lie back down again. she'd jump from hers and walk purposefully smack straight into the wall. then she'd open the door for the sweet little room service man, who would inform us that it was a good morning and avert his eyes ever-so-politely from our sleepy-frownies and matching black pajamas.

at this point, we'd both be back in bed. i'd never really left. but there was always a bill to sign.




on day one, the gentleman brought it to me. in bed. i was so super grateful and so super bad with numbers that i gave him a five dollar tip on a nine dollar beverage. i think he wanted to bring it back to me for my usual tip the second and third days, but i guess i was snoring. whatever.

i make very good coffee at home. my machine is pretty genius. but nothing really compares to sharing a cuppa with my girl in the pitch black lit by one little glowy lamp, chatting about the inspiration we found yesterday...hopeful about the burst of creative we'll land in today.




that's the genius thing about alt, do you know? it's not really about the information or the schedule or all the brill activities and dinners. it's about the sharing.

and whether you're sharing secrets or rates or contacts or your enthusiasm or just a cup of coffee, that's when the magic starts happening.

i miss the coffee, yes. but i miss my joslyn even more.

i've got to write an article by friday, but as soon as that's finished i MUST tell you stories about all the others who shared bits of themselves with me. wait. that sounds dirty. it was not. and if i were you? i'd definitely start saving up for next year. alt will change your little imaginary life. promise. also, this tumblr has a coffee of the day shot every week or so. genius.

stephanie...

i've a flood of mails in my box asking about alt design summit.

if i haven't replied yet - and i will. i totally will. - it was awesome. i feel like i learned a lot, connected and connected again with my friends, refilled my inspiration levels, and laughed so hard three times that i had to plug my nose.

not a pretty look.




mostly all of my friends wanted to know what she was like. and so, in a word, i'll tell you.

magic.

i don't get it. i can't explain it. but here's what i do know...

i didn't feel sorry for her. couldn't take my eyes off her. wanted to scooch my chair closer to her. could've listened to her all afternoon. kept trying to make her giggle, just to hear it again.

the night before, someone asked me if we'd ever met. no, i answered. is it sad to see her? because, i have to tell you, i have a pretty breakable heart and my eyes are always one drop away from puddles.

it's not sad at all, my friend assured me. she's beautiful.

she told me that when stephanie goes to the grocery, all the shops nearby clear out. it's the strangest, most inexplicable thing, but everyone's happy just to see her. the lucky ones get close enough to reach out one gentle finger and touch her.




i get that.

this is going to sound insane, but i feel it and so i'm just going to tell you.

i believe in pretty much everything. this is not as easy as it sounds, some days, and i find myself disappointed a lot of the time. so proof is a fine little surprise if and when it ever comes.

good to know i was right about angels.

i love a good mask, don't you? found by her first. the girl is genius at finding hot-cha-cha photography, isn't she?

inspiration...

i've just returned home from an insanely inspirational few days at altitude design summit. i'm sure you're already bored of me chatting on and on about it.

which really stinks because i think all my stories this week will be all about all things altitude design summit.

my advance apologies, kind sirs.





lately, i've been calling all girls mister. i've also been responding to uncle sugar with an enthusiastic right on, sister! he is not a fan of this. either, might i add, are the more masculine girls i may be addressing. two of whom i sat beside on my way home yesterday. one had a beard. i blinked twice and prepared myself for fireworks when the flight attendant called her ma'am. for a second, i thought she was pulling my opposites are funny trick. she was not. clearly, there is no point to this section of my post. i guess i've just missed talking to you, yes? yes, indeed.

i came home with an extra case of creative, and i think...i think...that extra bit of nerve i needed to assassinate mackin ink.

but she's tricky, that one. wily, even. she's stuck around for, like, ever. so it may take a little extra push and another space in which to practice writing every day, but that's my baby goal.




off to watch the chicago bears. the girlies three are pinned to the telly, threatening to perish should the bears not win.

it's currently fourteen to nothing.

much-needed inspiration found here and here. i'll be back here and there through the week to tell you stories from the conference, ok? see you in a bit. xoxo.

a new view...

i came home last night to a three-layer golden cake with chocolate frosting baked by uncle sugar and the girlies three. it looked so profesh. presentation is huge for pat. perhaps a result of too many tasting menus or too many episodes of chopped.

esmé was almost bursting. that little thing looked completely overjoyed at the fact that her dad was way better than just risotto and fancy red meat.

we're all off to a museum or two. despite the muss of the house and midterms and one sad little cold for my sad littlest and deadlines and an upcoming trip to utah and all the words i'm planning on taking along, too. we all need some fresh views today.

i might not chat with you until i come home from alt summit. so have a really pretty week, you pretty little things. image from here.

what would johnny cash do...

next week, i'm on a panel at alt summit discussing how to write personal stories. how to make them un-boring. how to weave a personal moment into something...magic.

i would say this: don't ever write about going to the grocery.




{sigh.}

and for my next trick, i will be writing about going to the grocery. for the second. time. this. month.

this morning was hella hectic. i had three deadlines and as many girlies to get off to school, all before nine. and you know how i am with numbers. add that mess to the fifty quadruple items i needed to pick up at the grocery, each and every one prompting the little checker girl to ask "do you need a bag for this?" and then add the grocery itself.




wreck.

and then this song started playing in the store.

it was my mom and dad's song. maybe it came out around the time he got cancer, maybe it was playing when they'd head to chicago for his treatments and any hope they could find. maybe it was playing when she was begging him to eat something...anything...because, god, he was getting so weak...




i'm not sure.

all i know is that she sat at the kitchen table the night he died and wrote his obituary herself. she ended it with ed, i will miss you. you were my true companion.

wreck.

i don't mind getting misty in public. i really don't. i think life is worth a few tears.

just not at the very moment the little fish guy starts hitting on me.

even if you hate the song, you must watch this through 'til the end just to get to henry and katharine. is it just me who gets blubbery about this song? oh, probably. just go hug your loves harder today. and i really really hope you've got a true companion. xoxo. all photos from here.

crazy...

it's insanity in these parts, so i won't even bother you with my usual nonsense.

just this.

life would be better with danger music. i'm wishing it would sound like a mix of busta rhymes and george baker.

available here.

black and white...

i don't know what my deal was yesterday. i felt misty-weepy all darn day!




no huge reason; just a few petite mess-ups i made that kind of threw me off-balance. deflated me for a second or five. i tried to hit my reset button for hours, but i couldn't find it.

so i stopped writing and took grae to friendly's to buy ice cream take-away.




this detail alone should tell you about the state in which i'd landed. i am not a fan of friendly's. nothing personal. there may have been one little waiter years and years ago who was a spitter whenever he spoke...and he spoke to me a lot. a lot a lot. plus? i don't even like ice cream.

but my girlies three love ice cream and friendly's. so there we went. for take-away only. i wasn't that off my game.

so grae and i were sitting there, waiting for our friend-zees, when this little old couple walked in from the cold. she was all red coat and fluffy grey hair and he was all little cap and old man overcoat. but the looks on their faces just melted me. they looked hopefully and happily for the hostess to tell them "table for two, please." they were excited to be there. they were excited to be together.




and they were so. old. i wanted to wrap them up in a blanket and carry them back to their warm little house.

anyway. my eyes filled right up and grae started looking at me sideways, so i told her "it's just nice. they've probably loved each other for a lifetime." she knows i always cry about love.

when we came home, esmé had been watching it's a wonderful life. {i know...but, man, she's in love with clarence.} she was asking her dad if, when he was little, everything was black and white.




"yep," he answered. then he saw me and smiled that classic uncle sugar smile.

"in fact, your mommy used to be black."

not anymore. that boy. i forget it sometimes, but he's better for me than ice cream.

the first four photos that made me smile on pinterest. that site is so genius, it still hurts.

i'm not sure...

these might be weird.

but you probably wouldn't tell me if they were, would you? you're so sweet like that.

i am not having the world's greatest day. yet. but something great is going to happen any minute. i can feel it.

until then, then!

xoxo. and sorry for the blurry and crooked nature of the photos. i promise that when we meet at alt summit, they will not be blurry and crooked. i, however, may be blurry and crooked.

there was something i wanted to remember...

on christmas eve, we let the girlies three open their sister gifts. it was such a perfect moment, it still hurts my heart.

at one point, esmé stopped, stood in the middle of the room, and honestly squealed.

i feel all tingly inside!

later, uncle sugar told me he was grateful that lillie and grae still believe. or, at least, pretend to believe.




why wouldn't they? i thought. they're my girls. and if nothing else of value, i hope i've taught them that life's so much more fun when you believe in its magic. makes you all tingly inside...and that's never a bad thing, is it?

some of my favorite beliefs are utterly impossible. i love them the most.

not sure from where that ring came, but i've been saving it for a while. plus it reminds me of all the fancy rings my girlies bought me. my fave was probably $7.99. if that. but, man, is it joy 'round my finger! you can see it if you come to alt summit! xoxo and have a sweet weekend, you sweet things!

good morning...

it's no longer morning. and it certainly wasn't good. but all is well now that all is well.


so. i never drink pop. but yesterday i found a flat diet coke from before we left for our holiday in florida - don't judge. i was thirsty. - and i grabbed it. sat at my desk and started to drink it. even though it made me feel guilty-sheepish and a little low-rent.




and then i tipped it. onto my keyboard. all of a sudden, my t and my y no longer worked. turns out, most every word i use includes both.

which is why i found myself standing in front of baby counter boy at geek squad telling him how i never ever not ever drink pop. because i am not a pop drinker. look at my watch, son. does this look like the watch a pop drinker would wear?!

i thought not.

i'm teasing, but you know what i mean, don't you? a pop spilled on your keyboard is so dorm.

anyway. baby counter boy and i got into a fight. i believe i asked him to send out a better geek before we parted ways.

but thanks to some brill advice via twitter, i am now the ashamed owner of a new separate keyboard that i will forever have to carry 'round with my laptop if i ever want to use it again.

i called uncle sugar about all of this, and he said do you know what i would do if that happened to me?

i suggested call some techie to magically bring you a new one?




nah! he answered disgustedly. that would never happen to me. because. i'm. not. a. pop. drinker.

ugh.

pretty pics from a tumblr recommended to me by my friend the lil bee.

whinging ahead...

so. mary and i are red-lining our t.ruffle girls' calendar to half-price. this makes me supra sad.



can i tell you and only you that i had dreams of selling no less than seventy-eleventy calendars? not for the money. just so i could walk around and tell people i sold out.

it's kind of similar to how uncle sugar likes those gps navigators because they always tell him he's arrived.

oh! i finished my new business cards! i've got to show them to you. remind me. there may have been too much prosecco involved in the design process. teasing!

there was no design process.

buy a bit of low-calorie sweetness here. mary really kicked it with her photos; you'll seriously smile every month when you stare at them. promise. xoxo!

rules even i can follow...