Wisdom Nugget o' the Week

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Listen once in a while. It's amazing what you can hear. On a hot summer day in the country you can hear the corn growing, the crack of a tin roof buckling under the power of the sun. In a real old-fashioned parlor silence so deep you can hear the dust settling on the velveteen settee, you might hear the footsteps of something sinister gaining on you, or a heart-stoppingly beautiful phrase from Mozart you haven't heard since childhood, or the voice of somebody — now gone — whom you loved. Or sometime when you're talking up a storm so brilliant, so charming that you can hardly believe how wonderful you are, pause just a moment and listen to yourself. It's good for the soul to hear yourself as others hear you, and next time maybe, just maybe, you will not talk so much, so loudly, so brilliantly, so charmingly, so utterly shamelessly foolishly.

--Russel Baker

Ode to Pastels

I Promise I'm Not Excited

..but ok, maybe a tiny, little, teeny, embarassing bit....but....tonight....is the 2-hour premiere of Biggest Loser!!!!

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sparkly oreo cake to start the season off right.

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Also getting pumped for the Crozet Music Festival!! Hooray for awesome weekends ahead.

They Were Young Once...

Preview of old pictures I found whilst rummaging through my grandparents' house. 

Best parents ever? No question.

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Washing a child in a tub outside next to an empty solo cup?

 Is there any other way??

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Happily chugging Coors Light while rocking a Santa hat and Polo sweater? Definitive class.

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Doing what she does best--looking hot and being a mom.

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One of my favorite pics of my dad. Nature explorations with cheap beer craftily stored in back of the pants. 

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100% organic.

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My mom is ridiculous young here. And Dad's 'stache...oh dear...

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And why do they do it?? All for a bunch of busted kids. 

 Thanks for the obligatory crotch grab, Pete. Shameless.

Nice work, guys.

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More to come. Hold ya horses. 

I Would Be A Fool To Miss This Magic View.

1. Wearing amazing costume jewelry from Granny.

2. Being asked to be a bridesmaid in my oldest friend's wedding at the gorgeous Oak Ridge Estate next May.

3. Flying to the Caribbean to see Dreadlock 1.

4. Going hiking in the mountains.

5. Seeing Sara Bareilles in DC with Del and Amanda!

6. Bringing Uli Pie to NOVA. 

7. Applying to jobs in Richmond AND Charlottesville.

8. Reading a great book outside every morning before work.

9. Gorgeous fall weather.

10. Planning a trip to NYC to visit my favorite person in the world, the dear and delightful Rebecca C.

11. Finding a volleyball league and a runner's club in the same week.

12. Escaping to Louisa at the drop of a hat. 

13. Using my old Montpelier ID to get into Monticello--free!

14. Running 5 miles, realizing (again) that I actually enjoy it, and signing up for all the 5Ks I've been missing. Hello, Turkey Trot.

15. Getting to (finally!) write something at work. 

16. Exploring museums, nooks, and crannies with Eileen and Julianne!

17. Getting VCU's Brandcenter application in the mail...and seriously contemplating it.

18. Lounging at Kluge Winery with my fabulous Mom. 

19. Learning to quit the bitching and do something about it/stop being the goddess of gloom.

20. Not getting consumed with the enormity of a situation, breathing, and never giving up.

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Discovering and remembering myself. Welcome back.

Hey Hey What Can I Do?

The art of losing isn't hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster;

places, and names, and where it was you meant

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! My last, or

next-to-last, of three loved houses went.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident

the art of losing's not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

-Elizabeth Bishop

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I'm going on sabbatical for a while. I have nothing good to say, so I won't say anything at all.

Long, Crazy, Cup o' Soup! Labor Day Weekend

This.weekend.was.intense. The dear and fabulous Ms. Alex M came down from Noho to grace us with her presence/celebrate her big 2-3 birthday! I feel like we were running around all weekend. From missed flights via Southwest, to picnics on the Mall, to buying $1 cups and saucers from the OMansion, to shot-shot-shotshotshots at Dans, to ramblings with drunkidy drunk drunk old men on the AU bus, to random crying outbursts followed by quick rallying, to getting punched in the face by a crazy unknown, to gorging on JumboSlice, to fighting with irate cab drivers, to lounging "poolside," to creating The Magic View, to listening to Delaney's hi-larious new roommate babble on about Mawwllllnayyy things, to battling obnoxious waiters at Coastal Flats, to baking midnight Hokie cupcakes, to getting dressed really fast then waiting four hours to drive to FedEx, to beer-can crushing, to Relay games, to 2-mile walks to the metro, to finally buying a Smartrip card, and to celebrating the glorious and fantastic Virginia Tech--long may they choke. 

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Beautiful building downtown

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The lovely Delaney Rose in all her splendor.

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Alex! visiting from the oh-so-cool Noho, Mass.

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Me, baking in the sunshine.

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The perfect pic, really.

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Cheesin.

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Dupont escalator to the heavens.

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Welcome to the OMansion. Strangest place in literally all the world. But, it was filled to the BRIM with chandeliers, vintage Dior hats, teacups, creepy stuffed things, a log cabin room, and secret doors galore.

Round up the prostitutes, this place is the shit!

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Fabulous, dahhling.

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"Coffee is through the Secret door to the Lighthouse." Obviously.

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Meow. Freakin obsessed with whatever this thing is.

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One of the many sink in this piece. In all it's 80s glory.

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Blurry beer stein for Cody!

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Wild, hanging, man-butterfly instrument player. Above a lion-footed pool table. Seriously, I'm not doing this place justice.
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Ok, so there was this bathtub that was set on a platform and to get into it you have to pull this hidden spiral staircase out of the wall, climb up the stairs, and jump on in. I was impressed.

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Alex approved of the bidets. Awk.
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THEN after allll that, we made orange and purple (i.e., maroon) cupcakes for the tailgate. Delicious!!

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On the way to see the Hokies play!! Well, not really. On the way to chug beer, obvi.

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Overall, twas a lovely and long weekend filled with great friends, good times, and drama.drama.drama. I feel it deserves another 3 days to recover.

Love these girls in all their sparkly Hokie glory!!

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Happy Tuesday,

Hannah

Hokie Hokie Hokie...D'OH!

I believe these faces say it all.
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Whatever, cry me a river, I had a great weekend--many many details to follow!

Earl Had to Die.

So Hurricane Earl came and went and made me happy that I'd taken vacation the first week of August rather than the first week of September. The ocean decided it would be fun to wash over the road. So uncool.

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Anyway. All this talk about rain got me thinking about umbrellas.

Yes, I know. So awesome.

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So, without further ado, please check out this freaky Asian-esque globe/Epoct-inspired umbrella. Coolest girl in school, obviously!

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No joke, I've wanted this umbrella since like, fourth grade when it came in a random catalogue that got delivered to our house. BUT CAN YOU BLAME ME??! No. Fashion sense at at 12? Ok, I won't go that far...
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Double rainbow. All the way.

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Whatever genius invented an umbrella with its own feet...I applaud you. Plus, it's pretty classy! No more awkward plastic umbrella bags for you, no siree.

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It's got grass. I can't not post it.

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Gorgeous. Bring on the rain.

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And finally, how could I leave out my favorite four-legged friend?? An umbrella for Uli pie!!

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However, halle-freakin-lujah, this weekend of awesomeness is calling for unbelievably beautiful weather, and umbrellas won't be necessary.

Thanks, Earl.

Who the Eff is This Kid?

Earlier today I stumbled across this article and couldn't help thinking, who the ?$#% is this kid?

And what kind of dorm has ceilings this high??

Read article and discuss.

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1. The black-watch throw is “from my grandmother.” Sinsteden is reading The Lover, by Marguerite Duras.

2. The plaid pillows and bed lines are Ralph Lauren.

3. The curtains and paiseley pillows are from Sinsteden's boss, Charlotte Moss.

4. The rugs are from his family.

5.  The armchair is "a hand-me-down from a client."
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The tie-backs are repurposed ascots.
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He keeps the bathroom caddy affixed to the mirror with suction cups
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The standing lamp is Ikea. The wall is covered with artwork by him and his friends; paintings and documents from Jaipur and Bombay; a model from Charlotte Moss; and pieces collected from “tag sales, thrift and consignment stores.”
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The tie rack is by Sinsteden’s father, with finials from P.E. Guerin. The chest of drawers is an $80 thrift-store find.

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This. Is. His. Dorm. Give me a freakin break.

That's all I have to say about this.