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Is Polaroid 600 film coming back? Lady Gaga wouldn’t just tease us, would she?

No news here: polaroid.com. I continue to be seriously bummed.



image via here

roar


Omg, I looove this! It’s ugly and a wee bit creepy and would look so cute with my bronze owlly. I don’t think I could love it any more even if it was a cheetah.


ps – of course, however, BFD doesn’t even need to trouble himself telling me no. The fricking this is way too many dollars for me to buy. At that price, I’d expect the whole lion.

vitamin d

ooweee, it is hot out there! I needn’t have returned to SF with trepidation of plunging back into the day-to-day grayness that is San Francisco summers. Clearly, I came back to a wholly different city. A bizarro San Francisco with no fog, no gusty winds, not a cloud in the sky. After the summer we’ve been having, the sun on my bare shoulders(!) feels nothing short of transcendent.

And it’s clear that everyone’s feeling it. Neighbors sit on porch steps, mingling over lemonade and ice tea; kids skip and jump; people smile walking down the street. Hello, San Francisco! Fall is here*.

*As everyone knows, we have our summers in the fall, thank you very much**.
**Also how horrible would it be to be a kid going back to school just when the weather feels like summer?

photograph by by Andrea Kalis, My Shot via kidsblogs.nationalgeographic.com

 

ooo

Out of Office Reply for: K.

I’m heading out of town and up to Tahoe this weekend to chillax with my girlies (and swig some good drinks and dance on a bar and wear my super cute ruffly sexy top* with my cat-call red skirt). You know, bachelorette style**.

And while I do think the whole bachelor(ette) party thing has gotten slightly out of hand***, I’m super excited for just some time off and time away. Give BFD a chance to miss me, already.

* Can ruffles be sexy?
** Umm, when I was a bachelorette, I mostly did what a do now, with a few notable exceptions where I end up hungover, sick, and lonely the next day. Have no problems whatsoever bidding my bachelorette life**** goodbye.
*** since when is it a party that lasts all weekend? not that I’m complaining now, but I’m not paying.
****Also, I haven’t been single in three years; isn’t that when my bachelorette life ended?

lookee what I got!

Isn’t she preeeetty! And seeing as how I just spilled soda on my laptop, she’s way too good for me.

I’m still spending time getting to know her — all her myriad strengths, quirks, and preferences are as yet unknown. BUT I can already take pictures that make me want to chuck my previous camera out the window. AND I’m going to totally take classes and become a grade-A photog. Just watch.

(ok, so it’s only an Eos Rebel, Canon’s absolutely bottom-line dslr, but, it’s still pretty and still a MAJOR upgrade from my last camera which took double AAs. And I’m excited about it. So there.)

image via commons.wikimedia.org

inviting

At least we hope so. These babies, representative of ungodly woman-hours and approximately three times the original budget, are out the door, winging their way into the mail boxes* of our dearly beloved.

As you can clearly see, we went the do-it-yourself route. Definitely not do-it-together, as Meg would say, as BFD did not do anything for three straight months that wasn’t a) working ludicrous hours or b) study for his architecture licensing exam. So, yes, the idea was: Save Money! Make It Personal! DIY! We can do this, even though we have never done anything resembling creating stationary before!

To be honest, the whole experience was so much more than I would have thought — more time, more money, more emotions. Paper can be intense, people!

And even though (as again you can clearly see) not a single one turned out perfect, I love our invites in the sort of way that squeezes your heart and makes your breath catch. They make me giddy excited, they make my head swim, and they do make me cringe just a bit. I am alternatively traditional*, but my family is traditional traditional and, I swear, I’ve fielded enough outlandish feedback about our “unique” and “quirky” wedding to make this self-conscious woman want to bow out.

Also, as you’ll note, these are not photos of the invitations but rather the envelopes. I took no decent photos of the invites as yet, but there are one or two posing as a backdrop for pictures of manhattans and coupe glasses somewhere around here, if you care to poke around.
 

ps – I snagged the post title from Mouse at Souris Mariage, who is AWESOME.

pps – Can I rant for a moment about the misplaced emphasis on wedding invitations? But, oh, they set the tone for your perfect day, and for your perfect day to actually be perfect each and every single minute detail must be perfectly color-coded, perfectly timed, perfectly et al. You wouldn’t want to risk your big day being perfect-ish, would you?

*And — let’s face it — to be subjected to rough and tumble USPS treatment, cluttered side tables, and eventual disposal in waste baskets in at least 10 different states.

**Another of Meg’s terms from A Practical Wedding (or something very like).

Photos: all by me on iPhone4 (pls don’t be mean; photography lessons have not started yet; someday I’m sure I’ll learn to keep my own shadow out of the shot.) 

bored at work

So…. time to play the baby cheetah game! Three rounds, no holds barred competition of cuteness!

Baby cheetah:




Baby human:




Baby cheetah:




Baby human:




Baby cheetah:




baby human:

Is it wrong that when conversations of parenthood arise among us newly & soon-to-be married women, my perpetual answer is I’d rather have a baby cheetah? I mean look at their little kitty faces with their furry little spots! Plus it’s hard not to admire a baby that can run and jump and scratch your eyes out hours after birth, when compared with our little do-nothing lumps who lie about for years. I’m sorry, but it’s no contest, right?


photo credits: 1 – hulivili via flickr; 2 – copyblogger; 3 – BBC News; 4 – baby from The Hangover via Houston Press; 5 – The Nest (that’s not a joke; they do actually talk about baby animals on The Nest); 6 – someuglybaby.com