It's Fridaaaay, Bitches

happy Friday all you pyt’s.
if you are down in the dumpster,
listen to the song and let it make
you feel cool. cool like debbie
harry cool. cool like Sofia.
cool like wes’s brain and the
rodarte girls. if you are high
on life, remember a bird could
poop on your head. like it did
us. monday afternoon.

keep it real, keep it calm.
keep it strong and keep it cool.

*f

Happy Monday.

art love

"let us be grateful to people who make us happy. they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom."
-marcel proust

*f & j

Love & Sprinkles.

hope you have a polychromatic day, y'all.

love f & j & volcom.

In & Out.

OBSESSED with this song right now.

Seriously. We could cry a little each time we hear it? Is that normal? What is normal??? We also cried yesterday because a) we were finishing our most recent book and b) one of the characters fucking died in it! Life and literary surprises are just not fair sometimes!

Q of D from Jennifer Weiner's latest:

"Everyone has sorrow. Everyone has obligations. Everyone keeps going. You lean on the people who love you. You do the best you can, and you keep going."

which definitely reminds us of a certain Disney fellow, but we love it nonetheless.

cry a little if you need to, but not too much,

*f

Hope Floats Eternal.

joie de vivre (from the French joie, "joy"; de, "of"; vivre, "to live, living"; "the joy of living") is  a term used to express a cheerful enjoyment of life.  joie de vivre, as one scholar has written, "can be a joy of conversation, joy of eating, joy of anything one might do...and joie de vivre may be seen as a joy of everything, a comprehensive joy, a philosophy of life, a Weltanschauung.  robert's dictionnaire says joie is sentiment exaltant ressenti par toute la conscience, that is, involving one's whole being."

*f

Peace Monkey.

patience is a virtue

life is a waiting game

peace must be nurtured

and all the money in the world

can buy you nothing

let me tell you that.

-corinne bailey rae

*f

Cupcake Zen Moment

photo love

*

The lake is halfsies-frozen today. It looks a bit like those giganto vats of ice cream our grandpapa used to bring us when everything about us was wee. What was that called, that ice cream? It was chocolate and vanilla and fudge all swirled togetha. Anybody? Anybody? Bueller? Oh, how we adored it. We'd sit around it with our sistas and dive in headfirst and not stop until our seams were bursting, or Mom made us.

*

Whenever he brought it it was like this frozen gem sitting in our freezer, tempting us to sneak it away with us when Mom was busy doing other motherly things. Oh! Marble ice cream. Marble!We think that's right on the money... Wait, is it?
*

*j

We Are The Lucky Ones.

Anytime you need help remembering that, watch this or this and breathe in a deep breath of gratitude, and let your heart bleed (a little) for humanity.

*f

Every Little Thing.

is gonna be alright.

do not worry about your life. what you will eat.
what you will drink. about your body. about
what you will wear. look at the birds of the air.
are you not much more valuable than they.who of you,
by worrying. can add a single hour to his life?
-the big book

*f

Some Of You Will Really Hate This Song

We know, things change. We threw out the Top Gun baseball hat and scrunchies when our first issue of Seventeen arrived in the mail. We donated The Bodyguard soundtrack to Goodwill, where it probably still sits in a bin, waiting for someone to love it as much as we loved that booming sound just before Whitney belts out the third chorus of 'and iiii...'. We mailed our comic book collection to a crush we had in junior high, hoping to win him over but only losing Wolverine (in plastic sleeves, mind you).*

And we know, some things never change. We still love airports, and all the possibilities they hold. We still get quiet when we feel intimidated and can't take a joke to save our life. We still, on some days and in certain moments, wish we were cooler than we are. We still love Neil Young and Bobby D. (because, as Emma put it so eloquently in the divine Love Actually (because we still love romantic comedies), true love lasts a lifetime.).

So yes, our taste has changed over the years, but our general leanings remain pretty solidly intact. And so, the same rings true for the songs that make us stop and hold our breath. Some of them are really quality music from really quality musicians. But some, alas, are not (ahem, that one fab electro track on Zombies' crapfest of an album). We will always be a sucker chick for a cliche pop tune with a catchy beat. And so, we have now explained the presence of the above song, brought to you in video form, unfortunately. And so you have above Timbaland's kissably perfect fine-tuning of OneRepublic's 'Apologize.' Press play, but please try to ignore the supreme douchiness of the lead singer's repeated molestations of the camera lens (or that general vicinity).*

Thank you, and have a nice day.

*j

*Er, wait, we might still be pissed about this one.

*We mean, seriously, what is he doing?! Has he even seen someone accomplish a smoldering look? Has he ever seen a Sting or U2 video? We are frightened for him, and all that his future brings him, douchebag looks and all.

A Tuesday - Er, Monday - Truth

art love

Here, here, old man. And heeere we go...

1. The next 12 issues of The New Yorker, at our right
2. Sofia champy, at our left
3. A pretty cerulean-colored plane ticket for two that works on any airline on any flight at any time of the day. Forever.
4. When we think of a book, it appears
5. Newsies, on repeat
6. Dancing allll night long
7. Lots of orange juice. Because we heart orange juice. And no, that's not code for something more subversive. It's just orange juice, which is yummy enough in itself, if we do say so ourselves. In fact, if we are talking fantasy, which we are, let's make that orange juice straight from that stand in New Smyrna that sold the freshest of fresh just-squeezed orange goodness. YUM.
8. Little pugs, all around and upside down
9. A wardrobe filled with very colorful dresses, a la Pushing Daisies costume closet
10. Banksy and Gandalf, in a tent on our porch, to talk to whenever we need them

Okay, pretties, what abouts you??


*j

Sunshine & Snowflakes

"the beautiful is everywhere;
perhaps more in the arrangement
of your saucepans on the white
walls of your kitchen than in
your eighteenth-century living
room or in the official museums."

-fernand leger

(or perhaps in our case, the beautiful is a poster on jude & howe's wall),

*f

Thoreau.

simplify
simplify
simplify.

*f

The Charlie Browniest.

Lucy Van Pelt: Are you afraid of staircases? If you are, then you have climacaphobia. Maybe you have thalassophobia. This is fear of the ocean, or gephyrobia, which is the fear of crossing bridges. Or maybe you have pantophobia. Do you think you have pantophobia?
Charlie Brown: What's pantophobia?
Lucy Van Pelt: The fear of everything.
Charlie Brown: THAT'S IT. 

Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, we are the Charlie Browniest.  We eat, sleep, and breathe A Charlie Brown Christmas, this time of year.  We play the soundtrack on repeat and tickle the fake ivories in the air.  So, we spose it's just like fate or something that right now we are in the mood for chocolately slouchy boots.  A brownie sundae dress- yet to be designed- but oh-so floaty and warm.  Oozing with wintery goodness and yum.  A pair of tights.  Maybe even in purple or blue.  Come on y'all, let's shake up the winter blah blah blacks.   Even if we do stay in again, curl up by the fire, and watch Charlie and Lucy hash out life's quandaries in all their philosophical and psychological undertone glory.

*f

Starry Eyed Twinkle Toes

stars love

If money grew on trees (as it does at our deary friend Jennni's abode) and Santa was our homeboy, we would ask for this little laddy for Christmas this year. We would curl up with our wool socks on and our zombies mug in hand, and we would look up at our ceiling with yummy relaxation and stars in our eyes. We would count the constellations and borrow Orion's sword and we would love. every. minute.




product love


*j

Holiday Joie De Vivre.

photo love

joie de vivre:
(n.) A delight in being alive; keen, carefree enjoyment of living. Hearty or carefree enjoyment of life. A love of life. From French, meaning “joy of living.”

Over the breaky and through the woods, we traveled all around the grand State of The Badger. From horns and honking and skyscrapers and smogging, to sunshine wheat fields and one beautiful (and lucky!) sundog. We saw NRA bumper stickers, pheasants, and cheese curds. Brady Street, State Street, and turkey girds. Our beautimous cousin Sal, the belle of The Charity Ball. A lovely stay in the hillside of Baraboo, and (thank Oprah!) skip-a-roo'd out of black Friday at the mall (eww). We heard Ella and Louis as we melted in holiday-happy. We ate turkey soup The Day After and watched Will Ferrell get syrup-sappy. We ate divine sugar cookies shaped like trees. Went for a crisp holiday walk with the cute and curly Fergie. Cuddled with a pup called Snugs. Had meetings and greetings, good talks, kisses, and hugs. J'adore le holidays. J'adore le life! To be happy and healthy and free from strife, for only just a moment in this life is blessed and we are grateful. If we were food, we'd give you a heapin' plateful.

*f

Haaaappy Turkey Day, Week, Party!

photo love
*
We are so very thankful for so many lovely bunny spoonfuls of sugar this fine year! And many because of you deary moonpie readers! Oh my, oh yes, this year we will be thanking bunnies and parrots and the blog and you and us and turkeys and pie - lots of pie! - and cupcakes and hot dogs and new jeans and old songs and car rides and breaky with our boy and lots of love from everyone in our little lives!*


*j


*We are also thankful for exclamation points, because we heart them. !

They Just Don't Understand.

photo love

Oh, high school.

You pushed the limits on curfew. Made out with your boyfriend in the backseat. Walked in past the rents, for the Goodnight/Let-Us-Smell-Your-Breath-Check. One night, you even walked past Dad, sans shirt. Ragin' party Dad, you wanted to say. But instead you just stumble-stepped up the beige-carpeted stairs. Past the beige-painted walls. Grabbed the Doritos. Jumped into bed, and promptly got The Spins.

Or maybe you were a good kid. A star mathathlete or the FBLA prez. A National Merit Scholar, or National Honor Society Veep. Betcha still got caught once or twice sifting through your stash. Sortin' out your um, collection. Out of nowhere Dad appeared right behind you! What are you doing up here (you screamed). But what you wanted to say was wanna hit that shit with me?

Nowadays, you cut 'em some slack. You find them pretty hilarious and/or kinda right about some things (nothing good happens after midnight/Auntie Joan is a little off her rocker). These Baby Boomer creatures amuse you. They use AOL, still. Quote Reagan. Get all dreamy-eyed over James Taylor, still. Wear Izod polos like they are going outta style. Which they are. And they were. For the last ten years or so. These boomies wear their Ray-Bans religiously (not even closely related to their recent surge in popularity). Ma makes you carrot cake every single year for your birthday. Because she knows it was your favorite. When you were ten. But you act like it still is. You love 'em. You tell your dad you think your mom is The Shit. He tells you later she asked if being The Shit was good or bad. Precisely.

There is no real point or quirky ending to this post. Call Your Parents, Tell Them You Love Them Friday? They kept ya around and let ya boomerang back home. Maybe they do understand something, Jazzy Jeff.

*f

Dalai Lama for President '08

photo love to the magnet from Whole Foods on our refrigerator

Something to stir your thought powders up with this fine Monday morning ( Hello! Is anyone else as overjoyed as we are about this fabulous fall weather? Halloween time iz de best time!) Anywayz, we thought the following passage from Eat Pray Love was interesting. Not exactamundo what we believe to be true, but provocative nonetheless. What do you hold to be true, strangers and non-strangers? Tell us. Expand your brain powders and let's chit and chat.

"...She says that people universally tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that will maybe descend upon you like fine weather if you're fortunate enough. But that's not how happiness works. Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the worlds looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it, you must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it. If you don't, you will leak away your innate contentment. It's easy enough to pray when you're in distress but continuing to pray even when your crisis is passed is like a sealing process, helping your soul hold tight to it's good attainments."

*f

You just know, when you know, part 2.

This goes out to Howe & Jude,
so so happy and in love
(just push play you silly rabbit).

*f