Seattlites – this is it.  Go here.  If you’re looking for a massage therapist, you should call on Carissa first. The atmosphere at Clear Awakening is so serene, even though the little house is located in the hustle and bustle of lower Queen Anne. The room was charming – decked out in ice blue, with chocolate accents. Light softly filtered in through the blinds, and the music wasn’t your normal “nothing” music – it was relate-able, sort of jazzy and ultimately relaxing.

Now, my last massage was ages ago (a year?) at Dreamclinic and they’re good.  However, when I first went in, my LMP told me that I’d have to schedule a second appointment because she couldn’t get the muscles in my back to relax enough that she could work with them. This visit was different. If I felt myself tense up, Carissa had a little trick to get the muscles to relax again. I spent the session pulling a little trick I learned from Savasana (a yoga pose) – every time a thought would pop into my mind, I recognized it and brushed it away. I was in sort of a meditative trance (which isn’t a hard state to accomplish during massage) and it allowed me to just clear out my mind-space.

At the end of my session I felt better than I have in weeks – relaxed, rested, but totally clear.  The session was a total investment in my overall well being and peace of mind.  Now if I can just get through this week, I’ll be set! �

To learn more about Clear Awakening, visit their site, or check out the blog (especially this post).

Related posts:

1. Invest in: A Little Pampering
2. Invest In: Quality Time
3. There IS Life…

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice’s first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which certainly was not here before,’ said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME’ beautifully printed on it in large letters.

It was all very well to say `Drink me,’ but the wise little Alice was not going to do THAT in a hurry. `No, I’ll look first,’ she said, `and see whether it’s marked “poison” or not’; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they WOULD not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if your hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger VERY deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked `poison,’ it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

They were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the bank–the birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their fur clinging close to them, and all dripping wet, cross, and uncomfortable.

The first question of course was, how to get dry again: they had a consultation about this, and after a few minutes it seemed quite natural to Alice to find herself talking familiarly with them, as if she had known them all her life. Indeed, she had quite a long argument with the Lory, who at last turned sulky, and would only say, `I am older than you, and must know better’; and this Alice would not allow without knowing how old it was, and, as the Lory positively refused to tell its age, there was no more to be said.

At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among them, called out, `Sit down, all of you, and listen to me! I’LL soon make you dry enough!’ They all sat down at once, in a large ring, with the Mouse in the middle. Alice kept her eyes anxiously fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad cold if she did not get dry very soon.

There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and the talking over its head. `Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,’ thought Alice; `only, as it’s asleep, I suppose it doesn’t mind.’

The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it: `No room! No room!’ they cried out when they saw Alice coming. `There’s PLENTY of room!’ said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.

`Have some wine,’ the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.

The Hatter shook his head mournfully. `Not I!’ he replied. `We quarrelled last March–just before HE went mad, you know–’ (pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) `–it was at the great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing

“Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you’re at!”

You know the song, perhaps?’

`I’ve heard something like it,’ said Alice.

`It goes on, you know,’ the Hatter continued, `in this way:–

“Up above the world you fly, Like a tea-tray in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle–”‘

Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep `Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle–’ and went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it stop.

`Well, I’d hardly finished the first verse,’ said the Hatter, `when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, “He’s murdering the time! Off with his head!”‘
`How dreadfully savage!’ exclaimed Alice.

Seven flung down his brush, and had just begun `Well, of all the unjust things–’ when his eye chanced to fall upon Alice, as she stood watching them, and he checked himself suddenly: the others looked round also, and all of them bowed low.

`Would you tell me,’ said Alice, a little timidly, `why you are painting those roses?’

Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two. Two began in a low voice, `Why the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to have been a RED rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake; and if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. So you see, Miss, we’re doing our best, afore she comes, to–’ At this moment Five, who had been anxiously looking across the garden, called out `The Queen! The Queen!’ and the three gardeners instantly threw themselves flat upon their faces. There was a sound of many footsteps, and Alice looked round, eager to see the Queen.

First came ten soldiers carrying clubs; these were all shaped like the three gardeners, oblong and flat, with their hands and feet at the corners: next the ten courtiers; these were ornamented all over with diamonds, and walked two and two, as the soldiers did. After these came the royal children; there were ten of them, and the little dears came jumping merrily along hand in hand, in couples: they were all ornamented with hearts. Next came the guests, mostly Kings and Queens, and among them Alice recognised the White Rabbit: it was talking in a hurried nervous manner, smiling at everything that was said, and went by without noticing her. Then followed the Knave of Hearts, carrying the King’s crown on a crimson velvet cushion; and, last of all this grand procession, came THE KING AND QUEEN OF HEARTS.

They had not gone far before they saw the Mock Turtle in the distance, sitting sad and lonely on a little ledge of rock, and, as they came nearer, Alice could hear him sighing as if his heart would break. She pitied him deeply. `What is his sorrow?’ she asked the Gryphon, and the Gryphon answered, very nearly in the same words as before, `It’s all his fancy, that: he hasn’t got no sorrow, you know. Come on!’

So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with large eyes full of tears, but said nothing.

`This here young lady,’ said the Gryphon, `she wants for to know your history, she do.’

`I’ll tell it her,’ said the Mock Turtle in a deep, hollow tone: `sit down, both of you, and don’t speak a word till I’ve finished.’

So they sat down, and nobody spoke for some minutes. Alice thought to herself, `I don’t see how he can EVEN finish, if he doesn’t begin.’ But she waited patiently.

`Once,’ said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, `I was a real Turtle.’

The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them–all sorts of little birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard him; and near the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the court was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it: they looked so good, that it made Alice quite hungry to look at them–`I wish they’d get the trial done,’ she thought, `and hand round the refreshments!’ But there seemed to be no chance of this, so she began looking at everything about her, to pass away the time.

First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were looking up into hers–she could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering hair that WOULD always get into her eyes–and still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive the strange creatures of her little sister’s dream.

The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried by–the frightened Mouse splashed his way through the neighbouring pool–she could hear the rattle of the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal, and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate guests to execution–once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess’s knee, while plates and dishes crashed around it–once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard’s slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable Mock Turtle.

So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality–the grass would be only rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds–the rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep- bells, and the Queen’s shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy–and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and all thy other queer noises, would change (she knew) to the confused clamour of the busy farm-yard–while the lowing of the cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle’s heavy sobs.

Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make THEIR eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.

the end.

All book excerpts are from Lewis Carroll’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, which you can find online at Gutenberg.org

Related posts:

1. Behind the Scenes: the 1930’s Hollywood Shoot
2. Wednesday Inspirations!
3. Style Vs. Fashion: Links à la Mode

Well, for starters Mama got a promotion, so my life has had a little extra hustle to it as I try to adapt.  Besides that, I’ve been blogging with a few fantastic sites:

High Society Tailored Denim: Kasil

Let’s preface this post with the fact that my work attire is business casual. With all the choices out there, one might think business casual would be an easy wardrobe to build. This isn’t the case though, when it comes to bottoms – I need something besides the standard skinny jean or legging.  I need something that is polished, not distressed. Business casual invokes the image of something chic, that can be dressed up or down.  It’s what Kasil does best.

(Click to read more at ShopManhattanite.com/blog)

♦♦♦

Wednesday Guest Post: Birdie in Vegas!

Every February, my fiancé and I make a trip to Vegas to meet with friends, and to get away from the Pacific Northwest rain. Usually the respite is well needed since it’s generally rainy and around 50F here in Seattle. It’s always a challenge to know what to pack for Vegas since the weather is so drastically different – sunny and 65 during the day, and often cold in the evening. When you’re inside, the temperature is often much cooler than it is outside; bringing a scarf, wrap, or sweater a necessity.

Last year, I wrote about how I packed for Vegas and it was all about finding THE right bag to carry anything I’d need for the day. This year, it will be all about discovering a stylish way to fight the changes in climate, from the hotel to the sunny streets of Sin City, to the overly chilled interiors, to the sometimes chilly Vegas nights. Also, you do have to be prepared for rain, which we discovered this year!

(Click to read more at the Affordable Scarves blog)

♦♦♦

Affordable Style TV

Birdie of Bonne Vie demonstrates a variation on how to tie a Half Bow with AffordableScarves.com’s Alexis Paisley Pashmina.

This is the fourth of a multi-part series in which we’ll show you dozens of different ways to tie and wear a scarf.

How to Tie a Scarf: The Half Bow II

(Click to watch)

♦♦♦

Psychedelic Chic

I stumbled across the blog this morning to find Ashe’s post about the Tarina Tarantino jewelry at Manhattanite right now.   I literally almost jumped out of my seat.  Tarina’s baubles are totally fun and I immediately headed to Polyvore to create fun outfits to go with them.

Everything that drew my eye had a psycheldelic-rock chic feel when I paired it up – a little glam rock here, some weekend bohemia there…  I mean, hippies are out out, but that tye-dyed bohemian look is still hot when given an ultra-modern twist.

(Click to read more at ShopManhattanite.com/blog)

That’s what I’ve been up to!  And a foray into video blogging?  Wow, you guys – I’m totally moving up in the digital age.  If anybody wants to donate to my “Birdie needs an iPod tripod for V-logging” email me or find me on Twitter or something. 

Related posts:

1. POLYVORE is not the place to look for Vegas-packing-inspiration
2. Invest In: A Better Bag
3. Links à la Mode: Ice Cold Lemonade

One Sixty One by Anna Gay

This situation – is it you?  It’s an easy feeling to fall into – one that you often don’t notice until it’s grabbed you by the cojones – you find yourself slipping into the habit of Ben & Jerry’s and Sex in the City reruns on a Friday night, instead of EVERYTHING else.  Don’t worry, dear heart!  It’s not fatal, but it might take a little adjustment.  Just because you haven’t found that someone doesn’t mean you’re not going to  – and it doesn’t mean that now is necessarily the right time to try and muscle your way into a relationship.

It sounds like the universe rearranging itself, because no-one’s come along, yet, who’s worthy of you. I know it sucks and it feels all dark and dreary right now, but that kind of wonderful love-thing happens when you least expect it, and when you aren’t looking.

Your response is to tell me that everyone always says that to anyone who feels like they’re on the perpetual search for a perfect mate, but it IS true.  Desperation is never a good look, and when you’re out enjoying your life, you look like you could care less.  That happy, care-free, wild child within is the most beautiful face you could put forward.   That is attractive.

Self-help, websites, and blind dates keep you focused on what’s wrong with your love life instead of what’s right.  You see the fact that blind dates are failures; and seriously, I cannot think of a WORSE set up for a date – “Oh hi, we don’t know each other but our friends think we’d like each other.” Except our friends – those who mean well, are people who are not us.  Dating sites just point out the value of a good photo on the internet and how many of those photos are a real person?  Self help is great, but do you really need it?  You have freedom, opportunity, and the ability to experience. You can coyly flirt with a cute barista without worrying that your “petit ami” is going to think you like the coffee guy a little too much.  You buy food for yourself – there’s no boy in his underpants standing at your fridge, drinking juice straight out of the jug.  And though some people may want that in their lives, there’s always going to be something in that potential mate that makes you roll your eyes and heave a giant sigh of desperation.

Singledom can be a great blessing and a lot of fun.  You are a wild child that a partner cannot tame.  You’re a sultry lioness whose perfect mate has yet to find you – and really, it’s their loss.   You are the inspiration that gets your non-single girl friends out of the house, when they sigh, “we never go out dancing anymore like we did when we were single.”

The sexiest thing you’ve got is being happy , loving who you are, and where your life has taken you. Chin up, hot stuff! Slap on a cute dress and some hot shoes, and kidnap one of your girl-friends for a night out on the town to forget all this ever happened.  Take that charge, that confidence and that control.  Then when you wink at some cute boy who’s in line at the bar, he’ll be left wondering just who you were and what kind of magic you possess.

Related posts:

1. The I in Relationship
2. Wholestyle Manifesto
3. Smart Words

The problem is finding classy flats that will hold up to wear and tear. I had a pair from BP at Nordstrom that I wore for a good year. My last (and MUCH CHEAPER) pair from H&M fell apart in about 3 months.

I opted to go quality this time, and was glad I did when I received these WHERE Cara brogues in the mail.

The Cara

I’ve also got my eye on the Simones (cherry? gray? I can’t decide) – another brogue style with cute lacing detail.

The Simones

I’ve sort of lived in my Cara’s since I got them – and they’ve held up longer than the chintzy H&M flats I bought.  I think these would be lovely as every-day flats.

The Sharidelie

They’re cute, with an interesting edge.  Along the same lines, Where offers the Sheilah -

The Sheilah

I love the quality of WHERE’s shoes and though they took me a few days to break in, I wear them pretty regularly – the leather has a good stretch to it and I do use saddle soap on them semi-regularly to keep them nice in our wet weather.  They do run a touch small (in the American sizes) but are well worth the investment for the price!

Related posts:

1. Invest In: Quality Denim
2. Invest In: A Better Bag
3. POLYVORE is not the place to look for Vegas-packing-inspiration

Via Iceland Express: Photo of the Week

This weekend, mortality sort of slapped me right in the face. It reminded me how important it is to take a step back from the rush and bustle and really invest some quality time in you, and in your loved ones. In the grand scheme of things, our lives seem so fleeting. While it’s important to live life to it’s full extent, in that spirit we sometimes tend to overlook some of the more important parts of our lives – our family and our close friends.

When was the last time you called your mother and shared stories? Or gave your dad a hug? When was the last time you genuinely took interest in your siblings’ accomplishments? When was the last time you told your best friend how awesome they are? Or gave your lover a token of your affection?

Even more poignant – maybe there’s a friend you’ve lost due to misunderstandings between you. Or maybe there’s some animosity between you and another. Living with that kind of inner beast is not a sure path to inner peace. It could even be that kind of turmoil within yourself. Accept your differences, and make peace. It could be as simple as telling that other person that you appreciate the differences between you two. It could be as complicated as admitting that you, too, have your own flaws, and that you accept that.

If it’s someone you’ve lost, who’s left this world, make peace with them in your heart. You could draft out a dialogue in which you tell them you appreciate their presence on this earth – however brief. You could write them a letter or sing them a song. Do something that will put your heart at peace and imagine that person, standing with you, and how they’d react to your genuine appreciation for their being.

There is a beauty in this world, and part of it is the way our lives weave in and out of the lives of others.  Our interpersonal interaction makes out lives so much sweeter and you wouldn’t be able to experience much of what you do if there was no interaction.  Make sure, this week, to reciprocate the love that comes to you. Be sure to step out and put love and acceptance forward so that it’ll come back to you.

Make time for that now, because now is all we have.

PS – On kind of a related note, Jenny the Bloggess wrote this the other day:

My point here is that it’s easy for silly dramas to overshadow good things and for small slights to get blown out of proportion and that the best thing that you can do if someone pisses you off or hurts your feelings is to go up to them and give them an enormous hug.  Both because it’s healing and it’ll make you feel better about being so totally selfless and also because it’ll make the person who was mean to you all paranoid and they’ll be too disoriented by your kindness to be mean to you anymore.  It’s a win for everyone.  Especially for all of your friends who don’t have to spend the rest of the evening awkwardly picking sides and watching the whole debacle unfold on twitter.

And I laughed and thought it was relevant.

Related posts:

1. Wholestyle Manifesto
2. Thoughts on “Fame”
3. Relationship or bust

That said, I’m pretty impressed with all the “good lookin’s” who’ve flocked to Vancouver to test their Olympian skill.  It’s amazing to find stylish individualism in a setting that’s covered in spandex and Northface parkas.  And no, Norway – unfortunately, I’m not talking about you.

Image via the LA Times

What do you want to bet this becomes a major trend?  Hmm?

The winner of the best-dressed-man category has to (HAS TO) go to Figure Skater (of course, right?  Glittery gentlemen!  I love!) Evan Lysacek, whose costume for the Men’s Free Skate was made by none other than Vera Wang.  In fact, she made both of his costumes saying, “He has a beautiful line and he’s learned to use that line and I think he was very conscious of me wanting to preserve that line.”

Image via SunTimes.com

Something about the puff in the shoulder, and having feathery wristlets made him look positively melodramatic as he glided across the ice – and really Stravinsky’s Firebird was a pretty artsy and epic soundtrack to this outfit.

Image via Peter Hapak, NY Mag

Image via Peter Hapak, NY Mag

Image via Peter Hapak, NY Mag

NY Mag has a pretty hilarious quote; talking about how figure skating has changed since the days of Scott Hamilton, they mention, “Women love him, and … men love him…”  and how can you not when he’s all dramatic and buff, and wearing Vera Wang?

Vera Wang even mentioned: “Evan is very into fashion—after he’s done skating, I think he should be a designer.”  That seems like a hell of an endorsement, if you ask me!

Related posts:

1. NYFW Envy!
2. NYFW is so Fall/Winter right now.
3. Not too Shabby

Style vs Fashion

Edited by Retro Chick

With the Fashion Week season in full swing and Fashion Pulse Daily live blogging from the IFB conference it can be easy to forget that there are other things going on in the world, where real women are shopping and dressing for real occasions.

There were actually surprisingly few Fashion Week oriented posts submitted this week. Possibly the Fashion Week attendees are still too busy to partake in Links á la Mode, but what I did find was a lot of posts focused on fashion, style and image in the real world. A Typical Atypical calls for a low fashion revolution and Idiosyncratic Style urges you to bring out your cocktail frocks for every day. Meanwhile, in the body image arena Intrinsically Florrie learns to love her specs, Sugar & Spice discusses tanning and Mariels Castle weighs in (see what I did there?) on the body size debate.

It would be impossible to leave this weeks links without mentioning the untimely and incredibly sad death of Alexander McQueen. There were posts submitted on this issue but I made the decision not to include them, not because they were bad, but because I felt that if I included one persons post I would need to include them all. There has been so much personal reflection on the life and designs of this amazing man in the fashion blogging world that to choose a small selection seemed impossible. If you would like to read these posts then, as ever, the full list of submissions is available in the forums.

Links à la Mode: February 18th

• A Typical Atypical – What girls really want to read about, and why fashion bloggers are changing the face of fashion
• Bonne Vie – Cultural Appropriation vs Cultural Inspiration: What you borrow from another culture when it comes to wardrobe should be thoughtful
• Confessions of a Fashion Editor – Dear New Look; it’s over!
• Eternal Masquerade – Covering the Parallels Between Our Current Winter Wonderland and Under the Sea Fashions
• Fashion Pulse Daily – Fashion Pulse Daily blogs live from the Future of Fashion Blogging panel during IFB’s Evolving influence conference this week!
• Hot Beauty Health – Ready for Spring? Here are 9 Big Beauty Trends for Spring 2010!
• Idiosyncratic Style – Fashion Dare – Let your party frocks come out and play!
• Intrinsically Florrie – Making a spectacle of oneself: learning to love glasses and finding the right pair
• Mariels Castle – It’s not about been skinny or fat its about being healthy!
• Retro Chick – Love, Lust & Burlesque with the Bridewell Collective
• SFindiefashion.com – Spring comes early to Golden Gate Park. Showcase of spring 2010 looks from San Francisco designers.
• Stacie Blair – Show your Olympic spirit with fashionable gear from Aritzia!
• Style Eyes – The dilemma of a fashion blogger and why I’m taking Dame Vivienne Westwoods advice to stop shopping
• Style Symmetry – Fashion Blogger Interview Kingdom of Style’s Queen Michelle
• Sugar and spice and all things nice – Discussing the dangers of tanning and why the only safe tan is one from a bottle!!
• The Clothing Menu – interview with independent jewelry and clothing designer, Norwegian Wood
• The Fashion Planner – The Fashion Planner is hosting an eUndies.com Giveaway!
• The Very Subjective – very subjective (and therefore – very true) observations about style do’s and do not’s.
• Thread Style – Heel-wearing fashionistas also can be feminists.
• twentyteneightyfour – My thoughts on style vs fashion and how our appetite for fashion blogs is part of our quest for style
• ventures of jenn – The Great Vintage Debate: the ‘price’ of vintage both within and outside of the western world and what it really means.

Related posts:

1. Links à La Mode: Style, An Introspective Approach
2. Links à la Mode : The Heavyweights
3. Links à la Mode: Beyond Fashion

It all started with the Laundry Thief.  I’ve had a run-in with this character once, last fall when approximately 2 outfits disappeared completely from my laundry one afternoon.  I’m not sure who she is, but apparently someone else in our building does.  Last week, someone in the building posted a note on the wall that read something like this:

“To the chick who stole my Victoria’s Secret PINK sweatpants – the joke’s on you.  They’re fake.  I bet you thought they were REALLY from Victoria’s Secret, didn’t you.  Also, I have news for you.  I caught  scabies on the bus somehow, and now so have you.  Please return my sweatpants to the laundry room, no questions asked.”

I laughed, because it seemed like funny note-rage, and thought to myself, “Tell her to give back that pair of skinnies she stole, and my 2 beater tanks – especially the blue tank from SPUN.”

A couple days later I went in to do a load of laundry – noting the angry signs had been taken down.  Much to my dismay, all the laundry machines had been unplugged and a note was taped onto them saying,

“Laundry services will be closed until the person who wrote the threatening notes calls the management office.  Tenants are not to post notices in the building without the management’s express permission.”

It seems to me like punishing the entire building for someone’s outrage over having their things stolen is pretty petty, but it’s not my management company (and we do live in a building with a bunch of younger – often college-age – kids).

Someone must have gone into the laundry room and plugged the machines back in, because a day after the management’s note was posted, they locked the laundry room door.

So, for almost a week now, we’ve had zero laundry facility-ability in our apartment building.  EEK! I’m lucky I have a healthy supply of underthings, but my daily wardrobe stock is starting to wane.  I’m obstinate – I don’t want to go sit in a laundromat when there’s a perfectly good laundry facility only three doors away from my apartment.  The laundromat is loud and a little on the dingy side … the laundromat has flourescent lighting!  How can a girl get anything done?  Unfortunately, it’s been a little over 2 weeks since I’ve been able to wash anything, so I’m looking at this as a forced “Wardrobe Challenge”…

the "No Black: Wardrobe Challenge" set, made by Michelle at Wicked Whimsy

I’m looking for creative solutions in my own closet – new pairings, creative dressing.  It’ll be interesting, to say the least.  Adapting this mindset has been why there really haven’t been new outfit photos on the site for the last week or so… but never fear!  My creative brain is working hard at dreaming up some good ones.

(PS – Hahahahahahaha!  I found the Stardate on Google Calendar and it’s probably the best discovery I’ve had all day.)

Related posts:

1. Invest In: A Better Bag
2. Wednesday Inspirations!
3. NYFW Envy!

But maybe you should decide for yourself:

When you hear that I have died, think of this.

Think of cool nights breezes while you walk to meet your friends for a beer on a Thurs­day. Think of wak­ing up in flan­nel sheets on a snowy morn­ing and kiss­ing some­one you love. Think of hung-over diner break­fasts and the best cup of cof­fee in the world. Think of the sound of tires on seamed high­ways while you travel, think of French kiss­ing and leather jack­ets and push-up bras and bour­bon, think of the joy of hard work with friends. Then think of me.

Not sad, not the melan­choly soli­tude of empty skies, but the full days and crowded bars and signed con­tracts, a smile too big for my face, remem­ber I said I stay busy enough to fit three lives into one. When you hear that I have died, know that I want laugh­ter, and danc­ing, real danc­ing, to music that makes you move with­out think­ing, you’re wear­ing boots and jeans and a great t-shirt and won­der­ing if the girl at the edge thinks you’re cute. And you moth­er­fuck­ers had best DANCE, none of this bull­shit rock-nod hands-in-the-pockets shoegazer non­sense, no, make an ass out of your­self, feel your hips, kick off the high heels and sway on the shoul­der of a stranger, when I die, you’d bet­ter be laugh­ing your ass off on side­walks, eat­ing deli­ciously unhealthy food, drink­ing shots and tip­ping your bar­tender well no mat­ter how much money you make.

And Adam has to read the poem he wrote, and Laura, and June, and Scott Car­pen­ter has to play “Don’t Go Away, Chloe”, no fuck that, every musi­cian I’ve ever made out with or video­taped or road-tripped with has to play, so drink some cof­fee, baby, it’s gonna be a long night. When you hear that I have died, the best thing you can do is to get laid that night with a com­fort­able stranger, use my story to get their sym­pa­thy, and when you kiss them for the first time, think of me then.

When you hear that I have died, and you will, remem­ber your best revenge is to live well, take risks, save up money and chase your per­fect hap­pi­ness. Beat the sys­tem and learn to make your art really sup­port you, craft into some­thing your audi­ence can’t live with­out. Then make the world an even slightly bet­ter place — stop throw­ing your cig­a­rettes on the ground, vote in the next elec­tion, graf­fiti your life on the eyes of the hungry.

Then just do me one last favor. Please. Love some­thing. Any­thing. Start with your­self, but find pas­sion in every­thing, from an apple pie to a novel, make a fam­ily, get a degree, walk what­ever path is yours with your chin up and feet planted firmly. Have the best sto­ries to tell in the old folk’s home, about life­long friend­ships and epic love affairs, about the time you lost every­thing and yet found your­self hap­pier than when you began.. and remem­ber that time we got in SO much trouble…

Poets.. remem­ber. This is the story that never ends. When one of us leaves, another walks through the door. The pages turn, the sun keeps ris­ing. All you can do in the mean­while.. is to speak for your­self. Raise your voice high, tell your story, join hands against the dark and sing our souls to the sky. Know the best in me comes from the best in you, that as you tell your story, you will be telling mine, and our lives will be linked together for­ever, and every­one who hears you will become a part of the change we make.

So when you hear that I have died..
just ….live.

–Gabrielle Bou­liane

I don’t know Gabrielle, but I know that this message hit me in the chest like a roundhouse kick.  It’s a message that resonates deep in my soul – one that, from today forward, I promise to ALWAYS take to heart.  I think we’d all do well to do the same.

I should note that Star said:

Please feel free to re-post any of the con­tents of this post any­where on the inter­net, with attri­bu­tion.

I feel like these last words of hers should be car­ried to as many peo­ple as possible.

Take it with you, make it yours, and pass it on.

–Edit–

Allison (Alley) Denney Oylear

I see myself as a huge fiery comet, a shooting star. Everyone stops, points up and gasps “Oh look at that!” Then — whoosh, and I’m gone… and they’ll never see anything like it ever again… and they won’t be able to forget me — ever.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFDk5_0KJpA

- Sleep well, child.

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