Friday I'm in Love

Is it just me, or was this a totally weird week? I'm ready to tune out for a while, personally. Let's go straight to my picks for the week, then, in hopes that it'll bring about the Friday-iest part of this Friday even sooner. Have a great weekend, folks!

Papercut Fingerprint Art

When I saw this papercut fingerprint art from artist Lori Danelle on Design*Sponge this week, I was totally blown away. Lori makes these papercuts directly from the fingerprints that you provide to her, and as you might imagine, that involves a lot of detailed work. I honestly can't decide which I like better... the couple fingerprints or the baby fingerprint. Either would make an amazing addition to any wall.


 American Wartime Food Posters

I'm fascinated by American wartime food posters. This online exhibit from the National Agricultural Library does a fantastic job of walking readers through the ways in which food consumption and production were marketed during wartime. Wouldn't these posters make the coolest collection? If you dig this, here's a smaller Smithsonian collection that features some of the same posters in closer detail, along with some additional ones.

Pacey-Con!

My college girls and I watched 'Dawsons Creek' religiously, mainly to roll our eyes at Dawson and root unconditionally for Pacey. This video is nothing if not a tribute to the irresistible charm of Joshua Jackson. And c'mon, can someone please produce a Pacey-all-growns-up show? "I don't wanna wait...!"

Day in the Life @ EADL

Ever wonder what a lazy Sunday looks like for me? Over at EADL today, you can find out, via my "Day in the Life" post as part of the fun series over there. Go take a look!

Warning, though: I told my teenage cousin what we like to do on Sundays and she made fun of us for being boring. So.... yeah.

A new world, painted pink

In the premise that the first sign of addiction is confronting your denial of said addiction, the time has come for me to announce the truth:

I am a nail biter.

I hate the way that sentence looks. I hate the way it sounds. I hate the image it conjures up, of a nervous strung-out girl with chunks of hair missing, eating an Ally Sheedy dandruff sandwich. I'm "normal," I'm healthy, I'm well-adjusted, I'm smart. Surely I'm not a nail biter. And yet, get me on an airplane or watching television, and there I am, biting my nails to the quick.

For 20 years.

I actually used to have fingernails. In fifth grade, I was known for rocking crazy designs in my fingernail polish (coordinated polka dots, stripes, you name it). My friends all had me paint their nails at slumber parties. Somewhere along the way, though, I started biting. I'm not sure when or how, but I'm fairly certain they were gone by the time middle school got underway. And I've never gotten them back.

But calling myself a nail biter? Nooooo. When people saw my little boy nails and asked if I bit them, I would say things like, "I guess so... but I never realize that I do it" or "I bite them when I travel without meaning to." Mmm hmmm. I tried to stop sometime in high school with that pepper polish that stings when you bite, but then I came to enjoy the peppery tingle of the polish (freak). I was proud not to value them. I didn't mind that I wouldn't have a sparkly engagement ring hand photo. I made jokes about them. I didn't care that I'd have little boy nails at our wedding, and certainly wasn't going to put on fake nails just for looks. At the last minute I booked a manicure with clear polish for the morning of the wedding, mostly to get a cozy paraffin hand wrap, just in case my hands were photographed. Guess what happened? The manicurist sliced open my ring finger. In fairness to her, she was so upset she did it that she started crying. I just shrugged it off... to me, it was just a sign that I shouldn't have even bothered.

Something crazy happened a few weeks ago, though.

I looked down at my fingers and I noticed that I had three real nails: actual white parts! I don't know how it happened - it wasn't intentional at all. I became obsessed with how cute the three "long" ones were. I'd bite the others and keep the three growers safe. Then I pictured those weird nail techs at salons with the one crazy long nail, and decided to make a real effort not to bite at all. I don't think I'd ever done that as an adult.

I was at the beach with my cousins, and the nails kept growing. I showed them off and tried to instill in these teenagers the full saga of my nails. My sister, who knows all about my nails, was impressed. I'd catch myself putting them up to my mouth, but I'd actively take them away. Then it hit me: what if I painted them, since true nail polish tastes awful? Would I really be able to turn them into something nice if I used polish as a preventative measure?

Suddenly they were a shimmery nude, and they kept growing. All week long at the beach. I didn't want to mess up the polish, so I was leaving them alone. The day after I returned from the Outer Banks, I was meeting T for drinks and a movie downtown. I decided to go crazy: pink nails.

At the restaurant, I told him I had a surprise. I burst out in a grin and showed him my ultra-girly pink nails. They were there. Short for other girls, but all-out long for me. They were PINK! They were mine. Here they are in all their glory:

It's kind of crazy, having these things. I'm not used to them yet, so I notice them all the time. They're foreign, but somehow not. Typing is weird, for instance. But I've been repainting them - revolutionary stuff for me! I noticed that stuff gets underneath them and I have to clean them. I have a little nail file that was in my Christmas stocking one year and has since been gathering dust (thanks Mom!), and I have been using it. 

Whoa - I can see my nails from behind!

Umm... seriously? PINK NAILS! I really want to do red soon. Ahhhhh!

Crazy stuff. 20 years beginning to give way to something new, all in the span of a few weeks.

I realize this is lame of me, admitting an addiction only to say I've started overcoming it. But "started" is the key word here. The polish prevents me from biting, but I still constantly catch myself putting them to my mouth. How is it possible that for 20 years, I wouldn't admit that I'm a nail biter? It's so clear to me now that I actually notice when I have the impulse. I wonder if one day I'll be able to refrain from biting even without polish.

So tell me, those of you who have stuck with me through this long post... what are your weird behavioral addictions you don't like to admit?  Did you also overcome nail-biting? And importantly: WILL I MAKE IT TO AN ACTUAL MANICURE ONE DAY?

Grasshopper therapy

If you recall, yesterday's events warranted the harmless posting of garden bug photos and my incredulous question to you all, which was just what kind of creature I was hosting out there in my wee urban garden. You did not disappoint. Up for the challenge, the kind readers of Freckled Citizen jumped to the entomological task of identifying the rare and exotic... grasshopper.

Well then.

I might live in a glassy high-rise now, but this has actually not always been the case. I grew up for the most part on a cul de sac that backs up to the woods, with a family farm a short and frequent drive away. I have climbed mountains and rowed rivers and swam many and varied bodies of water. Nature and I are not strangers. And yet... as I clearly did not understand that grasshoppers can grow to be huge and exist in colors other than grass green, let's go ahead and schedule a camping trip asap so I can redeem myself with wildlife, shall we?

 Vintage hiking photo as proof of above statement.

Please note Bush/Katrina-era "Make Levees Not War" t-shirt.

I now humbly defer to you grasshopper experts. And you know, despite several of your comments yesterday about finding my garden creature terrifying, he actually doesn't freak me out at all. I kind of like him. I think he's kind of cute. (And don't worry, I never saw him again, so my plants are doing just fine.)

See, today is yet another one of those days where my garden creature is my friend. I'm dealing with quite a bit of aggression. Take this old thing, for instance. That little IRS problem we had? Still unresolved. And when I called today, four weeks after they told me we'd be getting our refund in four weeks, they said I should plan on waiting another six months.

Well then.

Oh and this old thing? The movers from hell who stranded us in an empty apartment for weeks and then delivered wooden splinters in place of furniture? They've decided to bestow a whopping $186 on us for our pain and suffering.

Well then.

So there is some aggression over here, yes. I am a wee bit pissy and whiny, neither of which are attractive qualities. To my rescue is Mr. Grasshopper, who has crazy little arms and cool markings and really fun eyeballs. And instead of screaming and throwing things in between conference calls to get out my aggression today, I'm making Mr. Cute even cuter. Grasshopper therapy, if you will. Check him out:

Literally, to my rescue:

Anxiously awaiting the next Harry Potter installment.

I knew he was a good guy.

Ooh... formalwear.

Laugh, make fun, do what you will. Just don't tell me that he is actually a she, okay? The Exotic Grasshopper reveal was as much as I can take right now.

Not my day

I'm pitiful on the couch today with a chest cold. Oh, and my checking account is frozen because someone that wasn't me purchased $700 worth of sparkles at Tiffany with my debit card. Also, I just tried to make toast and saw flames inside the toaster oven. And then the fire alarms wouldn't stop going off. So... it's not really my kinda day so far. Rather than listening to me whine, please enjoy these photos I took of a visitor in my garden. He's pretty cool, huh? Can any bug experts out there tell me more about this creature?

Everyone loves hummus

Last night I showed my vegetarian hummus-loving cousin Z how to make her own hummus. And then it occurred to me... I've never shared my hummus recipe here. Which is silly, given the frequency with which I make the stuff (not to mention my previously confessed habit of eating weird garbanzo bean lunches). My dippin' instruments of choice are thick strips of red pepper or slices of cucumber - crisp, fresh, and (because it's me) carrying a lively kick.

So first, to set the mood:

And here ya have it:

Maggie's Classic Hummus

1 can chickpeas
1/3 cup tahini
2-3 garlic cloves, to taste
1.5 teaspoon kosher salt
6 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (about 2 lemons)
2 tablespoons water
8 dashes hot sauce

Put into a food processor and press go. (Best directions ever, no?)

Feeling wild? Throw in some roasted red peppers.

And that's it! Gotta love it. I do.

I could get used to this

It's so much fun avoiding reality. Two days ago, I spent my day doing this:

Yesterday, my "lunch break" was spent at the pool reading about the endlessly fascinating Harper Lee.

Last night, another Stage Cuz evening (new videos here, including full versions of Z's songs!).

And then late last night, Z and her pal stole my heart forever by choreographing The Double Rainbow Song. I mean really, does it get any better than this? I think my sides still kinda hurt from laughing so hard. If your afternoon calls for something goofy and awesome to cheer you up, look no further.

Today's "lunch break" consisted of shopping in Duck with my cousins and then taking them to lunch. How many times have I been in those same stores since I was their age, I wondered? It made me smile pretty big. Of course, back in the day I was the one buying super-short summer dresses, not the one putting them back on the rack wishing they were a tad longer. 

My cousin S2, though, to me: "Skirts and dresses don't have to go down to your knees, you know." Now that's a girl after T's own heart right there. And yes, I do know that, S!

I love these girls. Can I just stay here and live this life concurrently with my own back in DC?

My new role: Stage Cuz

Here in the land of my Outer Banks familia for a week, my primary role is to help get one of my cousins to her job while her mom is traveling. This run of the mill summer job? Performing in a local music showcase alongside people three times her age. You know, pretty much exactly like scooping ice cream or busing tables, only with singing and violin playing instead.

Z's bio in the show's program calls her a "Fourteen Year Old Musical Sensation," and this is actually not hyperbole. Her parents are both music teachers, and she started playing the violin when she was four. She's been on stage her whole life, from orchestras to musical theater. And, in the "duh" category: she played the violin at both mine and my sister's weddings. Z did an instrumental "All I Want Is You" for my walk with my parents down the aisle to T, and it was fantastic. Sigh... okay, focus, focus!

My three OBX cousins are all fantastic girls, each of them smart and witty and bold and talented in their own ways. The best thing about watching Z perform is that I get to hear others react to one of my fab cousin's talents, and then reward it with wild applause and an audible gasp at the end of the show when the emcee reminds everyone that yep, she is just 14.

During Z's Thursday show, I took more photos and videos than I imagined possible. I couldn't help it... I was beaming with pride, with my cousin S2 making fun of me the whole time. What can I say? I'm a Stage Cuz. Please humor me while I now share my pride with you:

Z changes costumes in this show faster than I can blink. Talk about a life skill!

Hello drama! Z ripped one of the sleeves off this frock to give it a more modern look. I love her in one-shouldered tops and dresses with her adorable haircut. She's singing "Jesus Take the Wheel" here, and killing it.

I was beaming with Cuz Pride during this song. You want a taste? Coming right up! (Remember I'm doing this with a point-and-shoot, not a real video camera)

Lest we forget, Z does much more than simply sing. The girl rocking out with her instrument:

You've got to hear this. I have six clips from this song alone because she kept blowing my mind over and over. Here's a couple:

Guess what, new Z-fans? There's another show tonight! I will be there, camera in hand! And in the meantime, I'll be happily listening to showtunes, "Glee" favorites, and Whitney high notes coming from Z's shower...

Good morning from the beach!

Life is good here. We took an update of our 2005 photo, five years later:

(S1 and I were supposed to switch positions - oops! Also, note that we all barely fit on the swing anymore and were concerned it would crash down, hence the delicate side-saddle approach I am taking to sitting down.)

My sis and her little man came to spend the weekend with us, giving me great shots like this one:

Guess who else came to visit this weekend?

We're all off to the beach again before our long-weekend guests depart. If only all Mondays could be like this one... I took today off of work along with T and my sis, and it's going to be tough to buckle down again tomorrow. Here's a little something for you before I leave, though. If you appreciated last week's Friday I'm in Love, you're bound to get a kick out of this one, too. It's dangerously addictive. Enjoy!

Friday I'm in Love

Greetings from the beach! I am basking in the glow of my cousin kicking the vocal pants off people three times her age in the music showcase last night, all while coolly playing the violin at a level Charlie Daniels (who Z discredits because of his theatrics with unnecessarily harming his instrument) could only dream about. So... I have pics and video of this phenom lined up for next week. Get excited!

In the meantime, have a great weekend. And by the way, how about me missing the earthquake in DC by being beachside instead? T says the cats were not happy. Poor little kittenz having their universe disrupted! Did anyone else feel it, or did you miss it, too? Oh, one more PS: I was a Garden of the Day over at Prince of Petworth this week - woo hoo!

As we do on Friday over here, here are three fun things to round out the week. Have a great work-free existence this weekend, everyone!

Goodbye, Old Spice Man!

It was bound to end ... stuff this rich with beautiful genius cannot prosper for eternity. Sigh... Please light a candle for the most brilliant marketing campaign of our day, and imagine what you might have asked of Old Spice Man and thus what you could expect from one of his scores of amazing personalized response videos. Me, I will be forever YouTubing this stuff. SILVERFISH HAND CATCH!

Double Rainbow Freakout

This video was around all week, but I'm putting it here anyway so that I can watch it with ease whenever I'm needing a reminder that A) life is beautiful, and B) there are some really weird people out there (self esteem boost!). Hat tip to my pal Nance for sending this to me first. And really, folks, don't we all wander from time to time, "WHAT DOES IT MEAN?"

 Fiona Apple "Not About Love" (with Zach G)

I'm a big Zach Galifianakis fan ... the man just makes me laugh, always. This video is no exception. And while it's no "Criminal" for the manner in which it will unsettle you, there is Zach Galifianakis dancing in streets and pitching fits in bed. Something for us all, really.