Need I say more, people?
Any suggestions for the fourth piece?
November 30, 2007
November 22, 2007
Denver knows snow!
I thought it was so fun to see Denver abuzz on Thanksgiving day, with a thin layer of snow covering the ground. They didn't let that slow them down, and I was whisked away to the magical land of the Amish. Oh, Pennsylvania! It was surprisingly warm when I arrived in the Keystone State, as it was literally freezing when Nils (bless his Mazda-3 driving heart) zoom zoom zoomed me to the West Terminal of the Denver airport at an ungodly hour of the morning.
So I spent my Turkey Day eating gummy worms in the Philadelphia airport - at least it made me all the more grateful to be back in the land of my roots. Watch out, PA! Laura's back in town, and she brought a little of the Wild Wild West with her (or at least her appetite for turkey)...
November 04, 2007
I call it...."Cheese Grater"
My Muse has returned, and I once again bid my $.83 paintbrushes to coax into creation the above addition to my series. I really feel like my art is an expression of the deep-set, repressed emotions that I have been harboring since my troubled childhood. In the case of "Cheese Grater", I think those emotions include an alarming, taboo desire for cheese. Or something...
October 26, 2007
I call it...."Blender"
This is the first-ever original painting by Laura (other than the ones that my mom put on the fridge when I was in kindergarten) - watch out, Andy Warhol. This is what happens when you convince yourself that you don't need artistic talent to create art - you just need about $15 worth of supplies and a bare spot on your wall that begs to be filled. Empty wall space, you are my blessed muse...
August 02, 2007
The Throne Room
As any recent geographical transplant knows, getting a new apartment set up can be a major chore. For some of us, it is the type of chore that can last all year, or perhaps a few years, or more likely until that point when we are about to move out. In my endeavors to create a new home in sunny Colorado, I have learned how to spray paint, burnt holes through several credit cards, and conned friends into building my furniture (thanks, Tirzah). What, you may ask, do I have to show for it? So far...only a delightful bathroom.
I aimed to recreate the feel of the French countryside where I was a youth, so I could sit on the pot and recall my fond childhood memories of freshly baked baguettes with warm brie, sunning myself on the Riviera, and afternoons spent smoking at a café and ridiculing the tourists. Those were the good old days.
Damask cloths in black and white with a touch of blue set the stage, and my new decorating technique of spray painting everything black has started to pay off.
Form and function, comfort and culture, toilet and tissues. Although it remains the only presentable room in the house for the moment, soon I will have put together a halfway-presentable place for all my friends to visit. That means you. So if you miss me, or have the desire to bathe in style, all this could be yours.
I aimed to recreate the feel of the French countryside where I was a youth, so I could sit on the pot and recall my fond childhood memories of freshly baked baguettes with warm brie, sunning myself on the Riviera, and afternoons spent smoking at a café and ridiculing the tourists. Those were the good old days.
Damask cloths in black and white with a touch of blue set the stage, and my new decorating technique of spray painting everything black has started to pay off.
Form and function, comfort and culture, toilet and tissues. Although it remains the only presentable room in the house for the moment, soon I will have put together a halfway-presentable place for all my friends to visit. That means you. So if you miss me, or have the desire to bathe in style, all this could be yours.
Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers in your Hair
When in the right company, you can always manage to have fun…even in California. I am still amazed as to the amount of booze-laced adventure that Mike, Allison and I managed to find in a 5-day trip to northern Cali (as the natives call it) over the July 4th holiday. As with all good stories, it began with ice cream sandwiches.
Mike came to meet me as I de-boarded my plane at the San Francisco airport, and we had a few hours to kill before Allison would arrive from DC. We grabbed some grub and, thanks to a delicious language barrier, ended up with a sac of ice cream sandwiches. High on dairy and the joy of each others' company (or possibly it was just a Californian contact-high), we snatched up our little friend when she arrived and headed into the wilderness of the Golden State. Our first stop was Mike’s trendy apartment, which he has decorated immaculately as only a true metro-sexual can. I don’t think I shall ever have a place as classy (or as expensive per square foot), and it proved a comfortable place to drink mojitos and reminisce.
We took a trip to downtown Santa Clara for my first ever Tequila Bar experience. Not being a huge fan of tequila (as it and my pants are mutually exclusive), I sipped sangria and admired the hundreds of bottles of Mexican hooch lining the walls. We then staggered down the street for some sushi, which I was desperately craving after living for a month in a land-locked state. Oh, Colorado – you are so beautiful, yet so devoid of raw fish! Our insatiable posse then waddled to another restaurant for some pizza, and then hired some Oompa Loompas to roll us back to Mike’s place for drinks on the porch until our jet lag caught up to us.
Day two of our whirlwind tour took us to Apple Computers’ Headquarters, which is a verdant, sprawling campus with abundant coffee and long-haired freaky people. We visited in the aftermath of the first iPhone release, which was evidenced by iconic posters and shrines set up in its honor. We saw Steve Jobs running around with his lackeys, drank coffee, visited their store and had lunch with a graphic designer who gave Allison some tips on how to get her foot in the Apple door. I gave him some tips on how to get his foot in my door, but I guess he wishes they all could be California girls…
Monterey Bay was the next stop, as we enjoyed the rocky coastline, the chill of the salt air, and a rather impressive aquarium featuring more jellyfish than you could shake a stick at.
In my opinion, jellyfish are like the Zen monks of the sea, floating aimlessly through the void and combing little geometric patterns with their tiny rakes in the sand (or something like that).
Almost as soothing as the jellyfish were the bread bowls of clam chowder that we consumed to shake the afternoon chill from our bones. That night, we took in a showing of the Transformers movie, which was really the story of my life.
Day three began with a quick bagel run and then a scenic car ride into Napa valley, where Grapes are King.
Although our timing prevented us from taking a tour, we hit the most important part and did a wine tasting as soon as we arrived. At Domaine Carneros, we sipped their sparkling wine collection in the warm afternoon sun while nibbling cheeses, sampling dried fruits, and making fun of each others’ moms.
The weather was perfect, and driving through the countryside (stopping every so often for another wine tasting) was a pleasure as we wound our way north to the Charles Shultz museum.
Inappropriate poses with Peanuts characters aside, we enjoyed a nostalgic journey through childhood and a few chuckles courtesy of this comic pioneer.
Once we returned to Mike’s swingin’ bachelor pad, we took a dip in the hot tub and finished out the evening with a newly-purchased bottle of wine and the kind of heart-to-heart talks that only alcohol can inspire.
Saturday was our big tourist day, and we began by climbing all over the redwood forests, foraging for grubs and swinging from tree to tree.
The fog was thick that day, but under the forest’s canopy it was crisp and cool (not that I wasn’t sweating like a pig anyway). The winding roads up to and back from the park were enjoyable (and, luckily, no car sickness ensued), as was the drive into the city across the Golden Gate bridge.
We stopped at one end for a while to walk along the bridge and take many pictures of the amazing structure itself, a sea lion that was floating listlessly below, the cityscape on one side and Alcatraz looming before us.
Once in the city itself, we ran around like giddy San Fran wannabes, shopping and riding a cable car, enjoying some pear cider (the new love of my life) at a bar in the Mission District and running through Fisherman’s Wharf to catch the ferry to Alcatraz.
We caught the last tour of the day, which left us there in the spooky hours of twilight before the tour was complete. Apart from the standard audio tour (which was one of the best I’ve ever heard, with testimonials from former guards and inmates), we got to tour the deliciously gruesome medical wing and witness a presentation on the “Sounds of the Slammer”, which explained how the cell doors operated and what they sounded like when in motion.
The stirring tour ended with us lingering after everyone else departed so we could enjoy the spooky emptiness of the infamous penitentiary at night.
We caught a rickshaw, driven by Borat, and were pedaled to dinner (and drinks) at the Hard Rock Café.
We had a few minutes to change into some Goth Gear before heading out to Billy Idol White Wedding night at New Wave City’s DNA Lounge. Having a chance to mingle with the local color was certainly an experience, especially when enhanced by more pear cider and my (admittedly awesome) dance moves. Men dancing with men, women dancing with rabbits, and me dancing at all are not sights for the faint-hearted Puritan souls back East. But this was California, where spirits are free and shoes are optional, and 3 AM rolled around before we abandoned our newfound friends and headed to the Parc Fifty Five hotel – four starts, one for every hour of sleep we got that night - before catching early flights back home the next morning.
Allison and I had the same flight to Denver, although we were both too tired to enjoy the pleasure of each others’ company. Home by 3:00 PM and in bed by 3:30, I slept as visions of giant rabbits danced in my head. Much thanks to my travel companion and our delightful host – my memories of California will greatly outlast the hangover.
Mike came to meet me as I de-boarded my plane at the San Francisco airport, and we had a few hours to kill before Allison would arrive from DC. We grabbed some grub and, thanks to a delicious language barrier, ended up with a sac of ice cream sandwiches. High on dairy and the joy of each others' company (or possibly it was just a Californian contact-high), we snatched up our little friend when she arrived and headed into the wilderness of the Golden State. Our first stop was Mike’s trendy apartment, which he has decorated immaculately as only a true metro-sexual can. I don’t think I shall ever have a place as classy (or as expensive per square foot), and it proved a comfortable place to drink mojitos and reminisce.
We took a trip to downtown Santa Clara for my first ever Tequila Bar experience. Not being a huge fan of tequila (as it and my pants are mutually exclusive), I sipped sangria and admired the hundreds of bottles of Mexican hooch lining the walls. We then staggered down the street for some sushi, which I was desperately craving after living for a month in a land-locked state. Oh, Colorado – you are so beautiful, yet so devoid of raw fish! Our insatiable posse then waddled to another restaurant for some pizza, and then hired some Oompa Loompas to roll us back to Mike’s place for drinks on the porch until our jet lag caught up to us.
Day two of our whirlwind tour took us to Apple Computers’ Headquarters, which is a verdant, sprawling campus with abundant coffee and long-haired freaky people. We visited in the aftermath of the first iPhone release, which was evidenced by iconic posters and shrines set up in its honor. We saw Steve Jobs running around with his lackeys, drank coffee, visited their store and had lunch with a graphic designer who gave Allison some tips on how to get her foot in the Apple door. I gave him some tips on how to get his foot in my door, but I guess he wishes they all could be California girls…
Monterey Bay was the next stop, as we enjoyed the rocky coastline, the chill of the salt air, and a rather impressive aquarium featuring more jellyfish than you could shake a stick at.
In my opinion, jellyfish are like the Zen monks of the sea, floating aimlessly through the void and combing little geometric patterns with their tiny rakes in the sand (or something like that).
Almost as soothing as the jellyfish were the bread bowls of clam chowder that we consumed to shake the afternoon chill from our bones. That night, we took in a showing of the Transformers movie, which was really the story of my life.
Day three began with a quick bagel run and then a scenic car ride into Napa valley, where Grapes are King.
Although our timing prevented us from taking a tour, we hit the most important part and did a wine tasting as soon as we arrived. At Domaine Carneros, we sipped their sparkling wine collection in the warm afternoon sun while nibbling cheeses, sampling dried fruits, and making fun of each others’ moms.
The weather was perfect, and driving through the countryside (stopping every so often for another wine tasting) was a pleasure as we wound our way north to the Charles Shultz museum.
Inappropriate poses with Peanuts characters aside, we enjoyed a nostalgic journey through childhood and a few chuckles courtesy of this comic pioneer.
Once we returned to Mike’s swingin’ bachelor pad, we took a dip in the hot tub and finished out the evening with a newly-purchased bottle of wine and the kind of heart-to-heart talks that only alcohol can inspire.
Saturday was our big tourist day, and we began by climbing all over the redwood forests, foraging for grubs and swinging from tree to tree.
The fog was thick that day, but under the forest’s canopy it was crisp and cool (not that I wasn’t sweating like a pig anyway). The winding roads up to and back from the park were enjoyable (and, luckily, no car sickness ensued), as was the drive into the city across the Golden Gate bridge.
We stopped at one end for a while to walk along the bridge and take many pictures of the amazing structure itself, a sea lion that was floating listlessly below, the cityscape on one side and Alcatraz looming before us.
Once in the city itself, we ran around like giddy San Fran wannabes, shopping and riding a cable car, enjoying some pear cider (the new love of my life) at a bar in the Mission District and running through Fisherman’s Wharf to catch the ferry to Alcatraz.
We caught the last tour of the day, which left us there in the spooky hours of twilight before the tour was complete. Apart from the standard audio tour (which was one of the best I’ve ever heard, with testimonials from former guards and inmates), we got to tour the deliciously gruesome medical wing and witness a presentation on the “Sounds of the Slammer”, which explained how the cell doors operated and what they sounded like when in motion.
The stirring tour ended with us lingering after everyone else departed so we could enjoy the spooky emptiness of the infamous penitentiary at night.
We caught a rickshaw, driven by Borat, and were pedaled to dinner (and drinks) at the Hard Rock Café.
We had a few minutes to change into some Goth Gear before heading out to Billy Idol White Wedding night at New Wave City’s DNA Lounge. Having a chance to mingle with the local color was certainly an experience, especially when enhanced by more pear cider and my (admittedly awesome) dance moves. Men dancing with men, women dancing with rabbits, and me dancing at all are not sights for the faint-hearted Puritan souls back East. But this was California, where spirits are free and shoes are optional, and 3 AM rolled around before we abandoned our newfound friends and headed to the Parc Fifty Five hotel – four starts, one for every hour of sleep we got that night - before catching early flights back home the next morning.
Allison and I had the same flight to Denver, although we were both too tired to enjoy the pleasure of each others’ company. Home by 3:00 PM and in bed by 3:30, I slept as visions of giant rabbits danced in my head. Much thanks to my travel companion and our delightful host – my memories of California will greatly outlast the hangover.
July 01, 2007
Where did I put that box cutter?
Greetings from sunny Colorado, where the mountain views take your breath away (as does the lack of oxygen). My lungs have grown in volume by a full 14% (I've been measuring), and I am enjoying the lack of mosquitoes and thigh-smackin' humidity. My time has been consumed with the moving process, as my once-delicious apartment is currently a cardboard jungle of epic proportions. The movers were kind enough to unpack all the kitchen-ware (not that I ever use it), and it made me realize what a project I had on my hands.
Luckily, this is a much bigger place in which I can spread my pack-rat wings (sorry for the mixed analogy). The empty apartment was truly a thing of beauty, and it was somewhat disheartening to muck it up with all my crazy junk. On the other hand, it was like X-Mas, unwrapping all those boxes and finding all the fun stuff I forgot I had. Books are currently the only problem, as they have no place to go but in stacks against the wainscoting.
There were a few casualties of the move,
including a disembodied statue toe, but overall I would say it went pretty well. It amuses me that my washer and dryer are more well-traveled than most people. If anyone wants to swing by when you're in town, you are more than welcome in my not-so-living room, where half the furniture (especially side-tables and ottomans) are made of cardboard boxes.
I invite you all to come and visit, but I warn you that you will be prodded to take some empty boxes with you when you leave. I hope everyone is well - wish me luck in the hours of waiting in line at the DMV that lie ahead.
Luckily, this is a much bigger place in which I can spread my pack-rat wings (sorry for the mixed analogy). The empty apartment was truly a thing of beauty, and it was somewhat disheartening to muck it up with all my crazy junk. On the other hand, it was like X-Mas, unwrapping all those boxes and finding all the fun stuff I forgot I had. Books are currently the only problem, as they have no place to go but in stacks against the wainscoting.
There were a few casualties of the move,
including a disembodied statue toe, but overall I would say it went pretty well. It amuses me that my washer and dryer are more well-traveled than most people. If anyone wants to swing by when you're in town, you are more than welcome in my not-so-living room, where half the furniture (especially side-tables and ottomans) are made of cardboard boxes.
I invite you all to come and visit, but I warn you that you will be prodded to take some empty boxes with you when you leave. I hope everyone is well - wish me luck in the hours of waiting in line at the DMV that lie ahead.
June 03, 2007
Now the West Truly is Wild...
It has finally come to pass that I have left the familiarity of the Hampton Roads nest, spread my wings and flown the coop. I now find myself living a new life in Colorado, where the air is clean (if not a bit thin) and the elk flows like wine. I got here safely after the longest plane ride of my life, which felt as such due to the unfortunate situation of having to fly with my cat. Although she was drugged with Kitty Valium, she was still a nervous wreck, as was I. She is still vomiting in my shoes as a thank you for such an adventure.
Although getting here was not half the fun, I had a good time on Memorial Day weekend after arriving and getting settled into the Towneplace Suites where I will be living for the month. I have to admit that maid service three times a week is something I could get used to. This makes me believe that I either have to marry rich, or marry a maid.
The first order of business was to find a place to live - although I had hoped to spend that whole first month checking out the Denver scene and touring all the myriad places to live, I was told that Memorial Day was prime time for apartment hunters, and I should act fast. Not being one to ignore advice (unless, of course, it's from my mom), I met with a nice lady from apartmentsearch.com who took me on several tours of local apartment complexes.
Although they were all nice, the winner was Palomino Park Resort...and yes, I just said "resort". The place is absolutely decadent, and more than a bit yuppie, but I was riding around in an SUV at the time (what those crazy rental car people will do!) and I think I was drinking something from Starbucks when I toured, so I just made the cutoff. In any event, those of you who were toying with the idea of visiting me will definitely want to do so after I move in on the 22nd of this month (which would be June). The place has a frisbee golf ("frolf") course, baseball, basketball, a full gym, several pools (including one with a poolside bar), nature trails, and best of all, me.
Doesn't it just look inviting? Here are a few more pictures of the specific apartment I'll be getting - and if you think you can give me any advice on how to decorate, please take a look at the floor plan and give me your thoughts.
The difficulty is that the place has an entirely open floor plan including the dining room, living room, and study. It makes for a nice, airy apartment, but I am not nearly skilled enough at interior design to do it justice. I'll be doing lots of research over the course of this month...by watching HGTV in my hotel room. Then I'll be drinking heavily and crying myself to sleep, but that's a different issue.
It has some nice architectural details, including a beautiful gas fireplace (important for those chilly Denver nights)
and some built-in shelves
and a nice archway into the kitchen. My pictures don't do it justice, because I was rushing through with a nice lady who thought I was strange for taking so many pictures (including of the insides of closets) of the empty place.
Add a cute patio (perhaps I'll even become and "outdoors person" now that I live in a relatively bug-free zone), and you've got yourself a pretty nice crib. All I need are some shag carpeting and lava lamps, and I'll be one classy chick.
Hopefully I can fit all my stuff in this one for a while without having to store all my Christmas decorations at a friend's place.
Other than getting extremely excited about being reunited with my household goods at the end of the month, I've spent a little time exploring the area. My two Virginian-turned-Coloradan friends were having some family pay a visit when I arrived, and they were kind enough to include me in all their touristy fun. We checked out a piano bar in downtown Denver, did some outlet shopping (always a good way to welcome a girl to a new home), and drove to the top of Pike's Peak.
Deemed "America's Mountain" because it was one of the last mountains to secede from the Union during the civil war, this peak rises 14,110 feet above sea level. As I mentioned, I was terrorizing my new town in a Mercury Mariner all-wheel-drive SUV, so it was the perfect tool for making the 3-hour drive to the top and back. It was interesting watching the landscape change, from the verdant fields and bodies of water at the bottom
to the snowy peaks, barren of vegetation, almost par with the clouds.
I was amazed at the view, which extended for miles in every direction.
The air was a bit thin, which didn't really bother anyone until we got back in the car to coast back down, only to promptly fall asleep. Props to Dan, our driver at the time, who managed to stay awake to return us safely to the bottom. At that point, he fell asleep and we crashed and died. But at least he lasted the longest.
There you have it - my first (hopefully of many) Denver adventures for your reading pleasure. As always, please drop me a line to tell me how much you miss me or to remind me of all the money that I owe you (good luck getting it now, suckers!). I miss all my peeps back on the East Coast...and don't worry, the rap isn't any better out here.
Although getting here was not half the fun, I had a good time on Memorial Day weekend after arriving and getting settled into the Towneplace Suites where I will be living for the month. I have to admit that maid service three times a week is something I could get used to. This makes me believe that I either have to marry rich, or marry a maid.
The first order of business was to find a place to live - although I had hoped to spend that whole first month checking out the Denver scene and touring all the myriad places to live, I was told that Memorial Day was prime time for apartment hunters, and I should act fast. Not being one to ignore advice (unless, of course, it's from my mom), I met with a nice lady from apartmentsearch.com who took me on several tours of local apartment complexes.
Although they were all nice, the winner was Palomino Park Resort...and yes, I just said "resort". The place is absolutely decadent, and more than a bit yuppie, but I was riding around in an SUV at the time (what those crazy rental car people will do!) and I think I was drinking something from Starbucks when I toured, so I just made the cutoff. In any event, those of you who were toying with the idea of visiting me will definitely want to do so after I move in on the 22nd of this month (which would be June). The place has a frisbee golf ("frolf") course, baseball, basketball, a full gym, several pools (including one with a poolside bar), nature trails, and best of all, me.
Doesn't it just look inviting? Here are a few more pictures of the specific apartment I'll be getting - and if you think you can give me any advice on how to decorate, please take a look at the floor plan and give me your thoughts.
The difficulty is that the place has an entirely open floor plan including the dining room, living room, and study. It makes for a nice, airy apartment, but I am not nearly skilled enough at interior design to do it justice. I'll be doing lots of research over the course of this month...by watching HGTV in my hotel room. Then I'll be drinking heavily and crying myself to sleep, but that's a different issue.
It has some nice architectural details, including a beautiful gas fireplace (important for those chilly Denver nights)
and some built-in shelves
and a nice archway into the kitchen. My pictures don't do it justice, because I was rushing through with a nice lady who thought I was strange for taking so many pictures (including of the insides of closets) of the empty place.
Add a cute patio (perhaps I'll even become and "outdoors person" now that I live in a relatively bug-free zone), and you've got yourself a pretty nice crib. All I need are some shag carpeting and lava lamps, and I'll be one classy chick.
Hopefully I can fit all my stuff in this one for a while without having to store all my Christmas decorations at a friend's place.
Other than getting extremely excited about being reunited with my household goods at the end of the month, I've spent a little time exploring the area. My two Virginian-turned-Coloradan friends were having some family pay a visit when I arrived, and they were kind enough to include me in all their touristy fun. We checked out a piano bar in downtown Denver, did some outlet shopping (always a good way to welcome a girl to a new home), and drove to the top of Pike's Peak.
Deemed "America's Mountain" because it was one of the last mountains to secede from the Union during the civil war, this peak rises 14,110 feet above sea level. As I mentioned, I was terrorizing my new town in a Mercury Mariner all-wheel-drive SUV, so it was the perfect tool for making the 3-hour drive to the top and back. It was interesting watching the landscape change, from the verdant fields and bodies of water at the bottom
to the snowy peaks, barren of vegetation, almost par with the clouds.
I was amazed at the view, which extended for miles in every direction.
The air was a bit thin, which didn't really bother anyone until we got back in the car to coast back down, only to promptly fall asleep. Props to Dan, our driver at the time, who managed to stay awake to return us safely to the bottom. At that point, he fell asleep and we crashed and died. But at least he lasted the longest.
There you have it - my first (hopefully of many) Denver adventures for your reading pleasure. As always, please drop me a line to tell me how much you miss me or to remind me of all the money that I owe you (good luck getting it now, suckers!). I miss all my peeps back on the East Coast...and don't worry, the rap isn't any better out here.
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