So You Think You Don't Like Poetry

Two poems this week by British poet Stevie Smith (1902-1971), whose work initially struck me as a little slight, but upon further/closer reading, I now quite admire. These poems vary significantly in tone and though neither are in a recognizable, conventional form (like a sonnet), they both employ repetition to great effect. Smith is a perfect example of a poet that often writes with form without necessarily writing in form. (Forgive me for having form on the brain - I just pitched a formal poetry workshop to the Cambridge Center for Adult Education). Anyway, enjoy!

Not Waving But Drowning

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.


Valuable
(after reading two paragraphs in a newspaper)

All these illegitimate babies . . .
Oh girls, girls,
Silly little cheap things,
Why do you not put some value on yourselves,
Learn to say, No?
Did nobody teach you?
Nobody teaches anybody to say No nowadays,
People should teach people to say No.

O poor panther,
Oh you poor black animal,
At large for a few moments in a school for young children in Paris,
Now in your cage again,
How your great eyes bulge with bewilderment,
There is something there that accuses us,
In your angry and innocent eyes,
Something that says:
I am too valuable to be kept in a cage.

Oh these illegitimate babies!
Oh girls, girls,
Silly little valuable things,
You should have said, No, I am valuable,
And again, It is because I am valuable
I say, No.

Nobody teaches anybody they are valuable nowadays

Girls, you are valuable,
And you, Panther, you are valuable,
But the girls say: I shall be alone
If I say 'I am valuable' and other people do not say it of me,
I shall be alone, there is no comfort there.
No, it is not comforting but it is valuable,
And if everybody says it in the end
It will be comforting. And for the panther too,
If everybody says he is valuable
It will be comforting for him.

Clementine/Mandarin orange candles

I was so inspired by Apartment Therapy's new vimeo workshop on making these sweet clementine candles (we would call them Mandarin oranges here in Australia. Clementines are way redder.).

How To Make a Clementine Candle from maxwell gillingham-ryan on Vimeo.

So sweet. Would have been perfect for the simple winter dinner I whipped up for my in laws earlier this week. I used mandarins in my salad.

On the table, twice cooked field mushrooms with cream, oregano, garlic; chicken with dukkah and a salad of mandarins, walnuts, grape tomatoes, raddichio, butter lettuce and rocket with my fav cheese: bocconcini! :)

Yummmmm

SKYMALL

Oh, the things you can convince yourself you need at 36,000 feet.


Come on, who DOESN'T need a Sumo wrestler coffee table???

I think from here on out, I'm going to ignore wedding registries and buy all wedding gifts from SkyMall. "Hey bride and groom, I know you wanted a Williams-Sonoma garlic roaster, but I got you this Bacon Genie instead!"


The utter futility of this product has already been discussed on this blog. Basically, bacon genie allows you to cook bacon in your microwave....which is already a stupid idea, unless you like your bacon chewy and dry. Bacon is meant to be FRIED. Anyone who loves bacon enough to buy bacon accessories knows this.

In all seriousness, I kind of want this:


Your eyes do not deceive you, that is in fact a Wine Glass Holder Necklace, combining two of my passions: drinking and wearing jewelry. Throw in a straw and I'd be good to go. No more awkwardly holding my drink at parties!

Finally, since Father's Day was this past Sunday (click here to read my tribute to my Dad from a few years ago), I submit this for your consideration. Had I been more on the ball, I would have gotten this for our home yard in St. Louis:

I can just imagine the look on Dad's face every morning as he gazes proudly upon his Yeti lawn statue. Maybe next year, Dad.

What to do with our courtyard?

While the interior of the house is more-or-less completed in terms of livability (as far as affordability and space), the backyard, front yard and courtyard leaves plenty wanting.

Because it's just a rental (up to the next 2 years), we have to pace ourselves, both pocket-wise and ambition-wise. Everything has to be easy to move around.

The yards are just grass... nothing exciting. Very boring, in fact, but at least it's neat and clean.

The courtyard has commanded plenty of frustrated what-if scenarios. All in all it's a really poorly planned space.

Big Picture: A plain, if poorly, concreted area, with a slope down to the backyard. (in green, below)



Small Picture:
1. Where the two walls meets, there is a drainage hole. But the builder has stupidly built it on a slight mound! So nothing drains.

2. There are no covered areas.

3. Some mad architect (maybe owner builder) built is so that the only rooms facing the beautiful morning sun from the North are the bathrooms! The courtyard (and rest of house) is on the opposite side and gets almost no sun!

4. The walls of the courtyard aren't really usable either, it's very utilitarian with air conditioner split unit, dustbins, windows and doors. (see illustration above)

After almost 2 months of what-ifs

I think this is the plan with the easiest layout:



Even in winter, I often love to sit out to have a short read or a tea. I think I have settled on a sandstone outdoor setting. Something like this would be great since it's weather-proof.

From here

I brought Sir Lancelot with me, although right now, it's not in a good spot. We left our lovely potted gardenias and birdbath back in Melbourne for our tenants to enjoy.




I love swings.

I still want badly a swing in my garden. My mother had a gorgeous 70s wrought iron garden swing, in this style but more ornate:



For furniture, I'd love to have an expansive sandstone table like the one below with some (much more) comfortable chairs:



Maybe something like this, hardwearing and rustic. This image has been foremost in my mind:



Our tenants asked us to leave my beloved yellow breakfast Colebrookdale setting in our property, so I love the fact that they enjoy it so much!



We still have those white wicker pieces, but since there's no covered area here, they have to languish away in storage.

I'd love to have a courtyard filled with ferns and greenery, in a bright spot, much like Halle Berry's beautiful pied-a-terre:

Via here

Of course it's a smidgen larger than our previous courtyard-cum-frontyard-cum-backyard!

Keep on coming back to see how I create living spaces for me and my small family :)

Sports

Wow, I can't believe it's been several weeks since my last post. Guess I got swept up in Bruins playoff fervor!!!!!!!


If you've ever met me, you will know the above statement is false.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that they won the Stanley Cup. I was less thrilled that the streets of Boston were filled with loud, drunk people last night. What is about sports fans running up to people and screaming in their faces? What is the purpose of that?

I spent last night doing the exact opposite of watching the game: I went to a literary magazine launch party/author reading and then took in the latest Woody Allen film. I was listening to poetry when the Bruins scored their first goal.

Sports fandom has always mystified me. It's not dissimilar to religious fervor. Fans can't control or predict whether their team will win, but they believe they can win and more importantly, SHOULD win. The chants of "U-S-A! U-S-A!" confused me last night, until I remembered that we beat a team FROM ANOTHER COUNTRY, making the victory all the more sweet. It was a triumph for AMERICA, you guys. We might as well have been playing [insert dangerous Middle Eastern country du jour] or Libya or North Korea.

Most likely my dislike of sports stems from my complete and utter inability to play them well. Watching sports churns up feelings of inadequacy dating back to my middle school and high school days. I am uncoordinated and not fast, nor am I graceful or agile. I am a good swimmer and a decent skier, but anything that requires hitting, passing, kicking, throwing or catching a ball is beyond my capabilities.

I had the misfortune to attend a high school where sports were very important and all students were forced to play a team sport two out of the three seasons. The real athletes hated this policy because people like me were bringing them down and the non-athletes hated this policy for obvious reasons. Not being athletic was just another strike against me, right alongside not having a sufficiently WASPy name or driving an SUV. And since I wasn't good enough to really play on any teams, I had to suffer the indignity of being the "manager" -- i.e. running the scoreboard at games, putting the equipment away after practice. One afternoon during my duties as JV Girls Volleyball manager, my "teammates" decided it would be funny to spike volleyballs...at me.

So yeah, I guess it's no wonder that I'm not a fan of sports or sports fans. Musical theater fans are much more my speed -- I mean, no one got stabbed after the Tony Awards.

She's out of my league

I finally watched 2010 romantic comedy She's out of my league, starring Jay Baruchel, the beautiful Alice Eve and T.J. Miller.

I quite liked her bachelorette pad, set in Pittsburgh, PA ... very chic, simply decorated with shades of taupe. I normally like bright and airy spaces, but at night when these scenes were shot, the dark, moody feel added to the chic-ness of it all.



I love the purply-grey walls and darker brown architraves/trims of the apartment, only a move if your room gets plenty of light during the day. (And this apartment is, if the twinkling lights of the night is any indication - of course this is a movie-set illusion...)

The bright pink pops around the apartment makes it feminine... makes the wall darker, more romantic and the pink more... pink! I love orchids too, hey that might make a good indoor plant for my office space! *planning* Right now, I have the ONLY faux floral arrangement in the place. And it fools my flower-crazy-and-green-thumb MIL every single time!

The picture hanging next to the door (which incidentally reminded me instantly of Carrie Bradshaw's old apartment) has a subtle pink going on, which echoes the pink of the orchids in its foreground. I think it's a painting of an orchid... but could be one of my favourite flowering trees, the Luculia.

Actually the more I compare images, it does look like Luculia!



If you don't know its merits, go to a nursery, ask for it and then when it flowers, breathe in its extremely heady (and addictive) perfume! It only flowers in winter (and prefers mountainous areas) ... which make it desirable for anyone who loves colour in their garden in winter! I'm trying to grow two from cuttings.



The apartment is mostly monochromatic, and keeps it sedate... and the flowers offer a beautiful respite from the "masculinity". The pink candles again add that pop. I think the set designers wanted Alice Eve to be the focal fair maiden of this space. (And they succeed with her white frock and gloriously blond hair!)



The kitchen again is stark with its stainless steel benchtops and splashback and the dark wood cabinetry. Even the Kitchenaid mixer and blender she stands in front of is black. Softened only by Eve and the flowers and fruit.



The apartment isn't large, but the expansive flooring makes it feel spacious, whilst the furnishings and wall keep things cosy and intimate. Here you get to see that the apartment is high above, and overlooks some spectacularly beautiful gothic-style churches.

Again the very tall pink flowering spray to the left the pale pink posy on the coffee table. Everything else is kept in very earthy tones, even Baruchel's clothing. I don't normally like blinds but in this case, the open blinds frame the large windows... and it becomes a picture in itself.



The only wallpapered wall in this movie. (Notice how every recent movie has beautiful wallpaper??) The floral motif softens the rather masculine colours again. I love it.



I really loved the surprise of blush pink in Molly's bedroom. The wall really brings out her sweetness and femininity. Everything else has hard straight lines and colours. I did like the touch of the lamps against the wooden headboard though. Very chic.



And I added the above photo because I've always liked to see where designers place bedroom furniture around the room. I like that the room extends beyond our purview to reveal a dressing area (and where I assume the bathroom is). It allows the bed to be the focus of the room... and gives the feel of a walk in closet and dressing room. Nice.

All in all, a beautiful room.

Barbie art

Again, I can't say I did it first! How many times do I have to have that "hey I have a great idea! I'll do it, it'll be so cool and unusual" and find it already done.

I went through my newest collection of ideas-file collected over the last few weeks and stared at the wall of the above image and realised what I was looking at.



I was going to frame all 12 months of my Barbie 2011 wall calendar and do as above (in much less luxurious surroundings).
{If you've been reading my blog a while, you'd know I appreciate Barbie!}

Bleh. (Although I'm sure the designer/owner in the room above got the prints NOT off this calendar!)

Still going to do it anyway. One day.

The Trouble with Commencement Speeches

Well, to put it succinctly: they are boring and cliched, by definition.

I myself learned this firsthand when asked to deliver the graduation speech at my former elementary school when my younger brother was "graduating" from 6th grade. (Side note: I really think graduation ceremonies should be saved for high school and college. I am attending another brother's graduation from middle school next week and while I'm thrilled to be able to visit him and happy that he passed 8th grade and can start high school next year, I don't know, it just seems like a gimmick to get the parents all mushy and proud so they'll give more money.)

At any rate, in 1999 I was a high school senior. As I was not valedictorian of my class (far from it), I was not the speaker at my graduation. But as a "distinguished" alum from the elementary school where my brother Richard was graduating, I was invited to speak at his ceremony. Thus I was faced with writing a speech to inspire 6th graders and their parents. My first issue was that it felt disingenuous to tell them about what they had to look forward to, namely middle school. Which almost all survivors agree constitute a dark time of early adolescence. Bye bye, recess; hello, 4 hours of Spanish homework. Also hello body odor, pubic hair, awkward growth spurts, and pimples. We can't all look like Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez, folks.

But of course I couldn't talk about any of that in my speech. I had to be positive, congratulatory, and assure these young adults that the years ahead of them would be exciting and wonderful. I think "challenging" was about the only adjective I used to hint at the vortex of unpleasantness they were about to be unknowingly sucked into. So I felt like a charlatan. I quoted someone predictable, told them they were ready to reach for the stars or some shit and the parents ate it up. They even reprinted my speech in the next school newsletter.

This past Monday, I graduated from Emerson College's Creative Writing Master's program. Some of my peers chose not to participate in commencement, but hell, I spent the dough and felt like I deserved some fucking fanfare. Mainly, I wanted to see if anyone speaking could convince that my $60,000 was well-spent. Let's just say I was a tough crowd.

The main speaker was some Communication Ethics guy who was being awarded an honorary degree. And boy, did his speech suck. It had nothing to do with anything remotely related to Emerson or graduation or life. I think I might actually have preferred a conventional address. But what are the conventions of a commencement speech? Allow me to provide some handy guidelines:

-- a quote from Mark Twain and/or Gandhi

-- an inside joke about the institution so not inside that even the parents will chuckle/"get it", i.e. reference to terrible dining hall food

-- A Lincoln anecdote

-- sobering mention of recent tragic event/disaster (tsunami, tornado, ABC's Private Practice renewed for another season)

-- vague references to the future, leadership, dreams, tomorrow, change, endings, beginnings

and voila! Commencement speech. Next time I attend a graduation, I think I'll make up a bingo card with all of the above on it. I bet I get bingo several times over.

Man, I am getting grouchy and cynical in my old age.

Op Shop Score!

I thought I'd start doing an "Op Shop Score!" segment on my blog :)

I have been lusting after vintage 1950s Australian pottery Diana cook and bakeware. Characterised by the creamy greens, blues and yellows with white polkadots, these are so sought after on eBay and vintage/antique stores.

I check frequently on eBay Australia for these pieces but never can justify outbidding the highest bidder for them, which is normally near the three figure mark for larger bakeware. A Diana jug can fetch up to AUD$60.

At time of writing the exchange rate is AUD1.10=US1.00.

The newer Diana (still vintage) bake-and-cook-ware had a stamp like the one below:



or



But mine is older, without a stamp, just a number impression. But I knew immediately what it was.



Being devoid of the stamp, I think the person pricing this piece at St Vinnies had no idea of the make... which means I scored this for only AUD$6.00!!



Yay! In perfect condition, no crazing, no chips, no cracks, no discolouration.

Matches my other $25 Diana baking dish (the green one on the right).

At home

What have you scored recently? Do Share! From one op-shop junkie to another!

Help wanted!

Can anyone identify this fabric?



Hopefully someone can, I LOVE IT :)

Image from Ada and Darcy

Keri Russell's home in Elle Decor

Image from Instyle Magazine January, 2009

Just last week I Googled "Keri Russell" and "home". And Nada. Keri Russell's one of my favourite actresses, owing a emphatitic feel to her biggest role, Felicity. Now I'm showing my age! :) I also liked her in August Rush and Waitress...

But today. I saw her beautiful Brownstone home featured in Elle Decor, via the citysage. Serendipitous? I'm going out to buy Elle Decor June 2011 tomorrow! :)

Image from Instyle Magazine January, 2009

I was pleasantly surprised to see that it reflected Russell's quiet, edgy character. Keri's dress sense is casual smart and her home is pretty much the same. Owing to the genius handywork of husband Shane Deary.

Craftsman and wood-genius Deary's outfitted their new home with very rustic, edgy furniture to complement the crisp walls and beautiful moldings of their 1860s Brooklyn Brownstone. Keri decided on the layout, the look, the soft furnishings... and it looks like her every decision was thoughtful to both their feminine and masculine whole.



The less-is-more Keri didn't crowd her home with trinkets and colours, but kept it simple with elegant furniture contrasted with very rustic pieces from Shane's trips into dumpsters and demolition yards. Even the piano above has been kept from looking too elegant.



The whole Brownstone has been a journey of renovation, since it was bought as do-it-upper; as says Deary, “but why buy someone else’s renovation if you’re going to redo it anyway?” I've said often enough, what I'd do for my husband to be handy-Superman!

Walls were removed, floors were pulled apart, restored and then nailed back.



I love their bedside tables, or rather, bedside blocks of wood! Deary found blocks of reclaimed pine flooring which now hold serves as a night table. Chandelier was a save from a previous renovation job (Shane Deary's a contractor and renovation carpenter).



The large ficus in their living room offers a punch of green and the planter box is made from pieces from an old desk! Deary turned pieces of discarded pine into the handsome porthole mirror that hangs over the living room mantel.

One of the things that I really loved was the bright greens throughout the home. When we can afford to buy again, I'll be getting some large indoor plants. At the moment, my African violets love their new spot (happens to be one of the only spots with plenty of morning sun and shade).

A simple lightbulb illuminates the island bench. No fancy industrial or Swarovski shade... nothing to hide husband Deary's work.

I love their sharp kitchen. Very reminiscent of Gwyneth Paltrow's back and white kitchen but with a rougher, less-refined-but-as-chic edge. (And much smaller.) Of course, Shane built his kitchen. And of course, it's reclaimed: from a demolished post-and-beam house.

I took a closer look at their kitchen. While it's not huge in any sense (the next picture shows the island bench again, so that's the limit of their kitchen), it's amazingly outfitted for most things. Even cookbooks and wine. I found their cabinets on the top rather narrow in its widths... but I'd bet less-is-more Russell does not collect china like I do! :) Her kitchen even has a cute built in bread bin above the countertop!

Check out the super rustic shelving above the wine holder to the right of the image! Below you can see more of that shelving and note that it runs along the ceiling too! Nice. Dunno about dusting though.



The elegantly edgy dining table had very un-elegant beginnings: out from a dumpster. It actually sits rather happily with the vintage Bertoia wire chairs.



I love that the Keri Russell's dressing room isn't... glamour-diva. It is really modest, very chic and showcases her outrageously high heels. Living out of suitcases, Russell now hangs her clothes on plumbing pipes Deary's fashioned.



The bathroom's walls were removed and opaque breezy fabric offer a modicum of privacy. The result is unbelievably bright and airy. It showcases the gorgeous clawfoot bath.

Regretfully, no shots of son River's room! Why not, Keri?

Images of Keri's home from Elle Decor

My Janet Hill collection (part of)

I have been enchanted with artist Janet Hill's artpieces since earlier 2009. I have since collected quite a few of her pieces and finally I got a few professionally framed for my bedroom.



I had Miss Yellow framed in something very blah and cheap previously... didn't do it justice one bit.



I never found the perfect frame for it. I knew I wanted something vintage... something extraordinary. But to find a frame... and a framer... was not easy. But I finally found a framer worthy of my patronage and shout out on the blog.

Karin in Blaxland, NSW, Australia does exquisite work because she scours the country for vintage, antique and unusual frames for framing. At very very reasonable prices too!!! If you want to contact Karin, please contact me at paperbean{at}gmail{dot}com.

It just adds a touch of elegance to my bedroom. I wish it had a more prominent wall.. but in my rental, I take what I get! Thank you landlord for letting me put nails for my three ladies!

What about four ladies, husband? :) Like Elspeth With Her Turtledove!



Image above and Janet Hill banner taken from her Etsy page.

So You Think You Don't Like Poetry

A good friend of mine (and fellow Emerson poet) recently launched an online poetry journal: Interrupture. The first issue went live in February and contains some excellent poems. This one is by another Emerson graduate, the delightful Mary Kovaleski Brynes. She's been published in a number of places and is currently living in Spain. Anyway, I love how feverish this poem is -- I think the repetitions are well done and well placed, and the piece has a sensual rhythm, not to mention amazing images. Me likey (and hope you do, too).

Maybe This Happens to Everyone

When I woke, Paris was in flames.

I spent the day in bed while a man I loved

kissed my ankles, the white arches

of my feet, asked what made them,

and I told him it was the Sacre Cœur--

when a city is burning like that there’s no time

for lies. At night the flames were in my hair,

the flames were in his mouth and each street

unrolled like a long tongue that gave

us what we couldn’t understand,

only if we’d dance on the cobbles

they’d light up like the disco floors

of les Grands Boulevards, like the smooth-trodden

gravestones of popes inside the cathedral,

the martyrs emblazoned on the Bastille.

I don’t remember the Bastille.

It is impossible to remember the Bastille

when his hand is up my dress on the metro

and Paris is in flames. The trains

brought us in through a tunnel underwater:

the Chunnel was made of glass,

the train like a chain of dolphins linked end to end,

arching silver with the currents,

and we saw Humpbacks, eyes big as our train car,

slow and bovine—it took minutes to pass them.

Their whale eyes were looking at us—

everyone in Paris was looking at us.

We weren’t looking at anyone, and when we did

their faces were like mirrors and I loved

his strange watery reflection but kissed only him.

The trains came. The trains moved out

of the blue-glass station while we ate crepes Nutella

and called them crapes because we were Americans.

The trains came. The trains moved out.

Our train moved out.

We stayed. Paris lit and smoldered.

Maybe this was the beginning of the world again, maybe

it was the end—maybe this happens to everyone

in every city, even in small towns, where corn fields

catch fire at the end of summer

and teenagers tear off their clothes

and run naked through them, tempting

the flames with their flawless skin,

but it won’t brand them, won’t even singe,

no matter how hard they run.

Corporations on my shit list

Lately, The Man has really been getting me down, or at least The Man as represented by large national companies. I love to support local businesses, but let's be real, the fries at McDonald's are pretty bomb and sometimes, there's just no substituting them when you're starved at 1 a.m. and nothing else is open.

But McDonald's isn't really pissing me off actively right now. I actually find the discontinuation of the dollar menu between the hours of midnight and 2 a.m. at my local McD's more amusing than irritating -- if you ever need a good laugh, I highly recommend watching drunk people try to order dollar fries and shakes and be told over and over again that they have to buy an entire extra value meal. This goes on every night at the McD's at the corner of Commonwealth and Harvard Avenue in Allston, MA. Comedy gold.

No, today my ire is aimed at Dunkin' Donuts, Panera, and Best Buy. Let's start with the most minor offender: Dunkin's. Recently, they stopped offering an egg white option for their breakfast sandwiches. I guess high cholesterol and obesity are back in vogue. There is still the egg white flatbread, but it's disgusting -- dry, with alleged turkey sausage and flecks of green and red that I suppose are meant to resemble peppers. Not that the regular breakfast sandwiches were any culinary masterpiece, but at least you could get them on an English muffin, which is approximately 1,000 times tastier than the mealy flatbread monstrosity.

There was also some deception that transpired at the Boylston/Tremont location -- I came in one day and was told they were "out" of the egg whites that I had gotten in the habit of ordering on an English muffin with cheese. I was informed that they just ran out but would have them again soon. LIES. Two days later, the same thing happened, but I was again reassured that it was a temporary outage, no cause for alarm. About a week after that, they finally dropped the ruse and broke the news to me that egg whites were a thing of the past.

Dunkin' Donuts, you are dead to me.

Next offender: Panera. I'm actually writing this from a Panera right now, fueled by their subpar coffee and injustice. Let me say that it pains me to muckrake a corporation that began as a local chain in my hometown of St. Louis. Once upon a time, Panera was St. Louis Bread Company, a great little cafe with delicious pastries. From the ages of 8-18, I ate countless tuna-salad-on- honey-wheat sandwiches. As Panera, the food is still pretty solid. I particularly enjoy the Fuji apple chicken salad, despite the fact that the dressing is the exact color and consistency of semen.


The location in Brookline advertises free wifi, so today I came for lunch and brought my laptop. When I logged on to the network at 12:45, I saw a disclaimer that between the peak hours of 11:30-1:30, I could only be online for 30 minutes. I was slightly annoyed that this policy was not made clear on the numerous "free high speed wireless internet!" signs, but whatever, I thought, I'll have to be disconnected for like 15 minutes, from 1:15-1:30 and then I can get back on.

As expected, I got bumped off at 1:15. I waited till 1:30....couldn't get back on. 1:40....still nothing. I asked an employee (Charissa) and she told me the peak hours are actually from 11-2. I told her this is not what it says on the "log in" home page. She also said that sometimes it's limited to 30 minutes even not during peak hours because they have a problem with students camping out for hours and occupying tables. By the way she snarkily informed me of this, I could tell she thought I fell into this category. I told her I have been here less than an hour, bought and ate lunch here and was in the middle of writing an important e-mail when I was kicked off (this was true). She offered me a complimentary cookie. I told Charissa to go fuck herself and get a real name.

Ok, the last part isn't true. But I did turn down the cookie. I have some principles. The good news is that the town of Brookline has a cheap wifi service you can sign up for, so I am now taking up a large booth to blog about this. Suck it, Panera.

Finally, the corporation most deserving of my hatred -- Best Buy. Last year, my dad bought me an Insignia flatscreen HD TV with a built-in DVD player. In March, a little over a year after acquiring this TV, the DVD player stopped working. I took it in to Best Buy since it was still under warranty. It took them 2 weeks, but they repaired the DVD player. I brought the TV home and about a week later, the DVD player stopped working AGAIN. I called Best Buy and asked if I could get a new TV since this one was obviously a piece of garbage. They told me that per my warranty, they won't replace the TV until it's been sent out for service FOUR TIMES. It has to break FOUR TIMES before they replace it, and remember, each time it goes out for service, it takes 2 weeks to fix. Unacceptable.

My dad, who loves lost causes and in his semi-retirement writes a lot of angry letters, was pretty pissed that this policy was buried in the fine print of the extended warranty agreement he signed. He chewed out a Best Buy supervisor named Troy, based in Colorado. I guess it brings me a little pleasure to think about Troy (employee ID #153162) in Colorado getting yelled at by a 65-year-old man in St. Louis who's furious that his daughter's DVD player in Boston is broken. My dad threatened Troy that he would "post a blog on the internet" (I didn't have the heart to tell him that statement's redundant) and bring Best Buy to its knees, defaming Troy and all the Troys in the Best Buy corporate machine who rip off the little people.

Et tu, Troy?

Then Dad ordered me an external DVD player. From Walmart. We'll see how this plays out.

My new dining suite

If you've been reading my blog for some time, you'd know how much I love Chippendale Chinese chairs... and bamboo (or faux bamboo) home furnishings.



I grew up with the real stuff - furniture made from actual bamboo.

The lounge suite I grew up with.

And remember my new old desk? :)

I scored again! A month ago I won a Buy It Now auction with eBay for an old dining suite. I had to sweet talk my husband into getting it from Canberra with me one Saturday recently to pick it up. The lady in a very exclusive part of Canberra was selling her very very expensive and modern home to move someplace else with a "modern house which wouldn't suit this dining suite". It left me rather flabbergasted as the house we picked the suite from was already sooooo modern! Anyway. :)

Today I finally had a free hour to set up table! :)



Set for a simple Easter lunch for six.

I love my suite so much! The upholstered suite needs a clean, and I'm waiting for my father in law to help me with that... and one day this will get a new look :)

Yes the room is tiny. This rental isn't large, but it suits most of our needs right now so it'll do. For our daily use this gets pushed to one wall and the carvers go back to their home:



Yes it gives precious added seating to our equally small living room.



One day I might even paint the table a glossy orange!