Stacy's Mom...

...just came on the radio. Am I in a time warp? Am I wearing my hair in a slicked-back pony tail and running shorts from the 10th grade (well, maybe I am. Some things will never change). Usually I'm a big fan of 106.1, but this is throwing me for a loop. Not cool, Stacy. Or your mom. 

Love B-Sav.

However--I have been really into this little song called Emmylou by the Swedish band First Aid Kit. It's soft and southern-y and leaves visions of Emmylou H's amazing silver locks dancing through my head. Emmylou Harris always reminds me of my mom and her crazy friend Wendy, as they put her on a pretty high pedestal when I was growing up. Can't blame a girl. She's pretty grand. 

Today was one of the first "slow" days I've had at work in a while. It was weird. I think back to my last job and how ungodly boring every aspect was and it makes me appreciate even more how much I like my new gig...even if it leaves me wanting to slice 75% of my teachers on a weekly basis. Sigh. Got to work and my boss lady had an Irish Car Bomb Cupcake waiting for me on my desk. Hello! 

Tomorrow the girls and I are headed to Continental Divide to make up for serious lost birthday time and chug a few margs/stuff our faces with drippy nachos. For some reason, I've only been to Continental after Foxfield when I've spent hours baking in the sun and Lilly Pulitzer and PBR. I mean, it always tastes great then, so I'm sure their food is fantastic!

Just 'cause you wear Lilly don't mean you classy.

T minus (I hope) two days until I have a working toilet, sink, and shower in my little house. They look pretty fly in my front yard, but I think the neighbors are starting to fret. I'm hoping that SFP CarSex can visit this weekend, but time will only tell....gotta get fancy for that hoe. 

Ok. Serious stream-of-consciousness post. Locking up and locking down. 

xoxo,

Hannah

Can You Work It? Lemme Work It.

So I've been trying this new thing recently where I only wear dresses to work. They're so much easier, they're more flattering, and I don't have to suffer with the thought of wearing...dress pants. Ugh. There is nothing more disgusting in this world than ill-fitted, cheap, disgusting dress pants (because you know I'm too stingy to buy nice ones) and the reality of having them dry cleaned makes my skin crawl.

So, as the entire world knows (because I find a way to insert it into every conversation), I've been riding my bike to work. This is indeed awesome, but it requires me to carry a backpack and change in the bathroom when I get to the office. The lights in the bathroom are on a sensor, so if nobody's been in there/moving around for a while, they'll turn off to save energy. Brilliant. This morning, I roll into work and for once am not completely disgusting because it's beautiful outside and I've managed to not sweat my entire face off. I'm in the stall changing into a dress that has these weird straps that run along the inside ribcage area to act as support. Very strange to me, but I'm learning. So there I am--no bra, in heels, wrestling myself into this dress--and I cannot get it on. I have tugged. I have pulled. I have prayed to the bathroom stall goddesses to zip.me.UP. But alas, I'm a little sweaty, and the material of the dress + somewhat sticky skin (professional, I know) is not happening.

So I'm like, shit shit, I'm gonna be trapped awkwardly here in the bathroom with no clothes on fml. I start spinning in circles trying to get this thing pulled up without fucking up the lining of the dress, and this goes on for about 5 minutes. Picture a dog chasing her tail, but more pathetic. Then, right when I think I've got the dress somewhat on...the lights  in the bathroom go out because I'm the only one in there and apparently not close to the sensor. FUCKKKKK so I'm like, literally half naked with a twisted dress around my nasty sweaty body flopping around in the bathroom in the dark being like, what should I do?!? So...I awkwardly open the door, half-dressed, hop out in my unbuttoned heels, and bounce my way in the direction that I hope is the sensor. I'm flapping my arms around like a mad woman and luckily the bathroom goddesses answer my prayers and the lights come on and I can hop back to my stall before someone comes in to see this spectacle.

Luckily, there's a happy ending and I finally got the dress on after some creative adjusting and some serious heaving and a lot of sweat-wiping. Basically, my life is a joke right now.

Anyway. Dressing yourself can be difficult, but I don't back down to a challenge...even if it's a challenge that the least competent two-year-old could achieve.

Buh...

I Want to Slice Everyone...

...so I am taking this opportunity to harness some zen, center my wee/chi/whatever, sip some GD jasmine tea, and pretend that I never met any of the idiots who surround me on a daily mofo basis. Wish me luck.

Ok. So. Here we have a delicious desk set up, complete with lavender inspiration board and badass, recycled wood table. I'm feeling this in my bones, for sure. And there's that iMac again. Do I smell a theme? Hmmm..

Oh, to be young and waif-life. And to have thick, soft hair to pin into a million knots and braids. I'm getting my usual springtime craving for Ultra-Light, Natty Blonde...but I'm holding out!

This picture is one of the main reasons I decided to re-pierce my nose. Love it. Love it. Love it. Can't wait till I'm reunited with my little hoop (I'm thinking sometime mid-July will do the trick). Then, bring on the sunshine and hot pink lips and I will run this town.

Note the fat lady statue peeping out the window. She's gorgeous.

Also, I couldn't include a zen-master post without some form of feline. Meow.

This photo...is perfection. Thinking about getting it blown up. No, definitely getting it blown up.

Eff everyone at my office. Learn how to hole punch correctly! Stop being incompetent! Let me live my life!!

xxx,

Hann

I'm Goin' to Jackson(s), I'm Gonna Mess Around

Jackson's for happy hour tonight, thank god! Gonna get some lemon drop martinis, chat with some lovers, and ignore the fact that I will probably, maybe, possibly have to work this weekend. NoooooOOOoooo.

not thinking about it not thinking about it not thinking about it


Whatever. I've been channeling some serious domestic goddess waves recently--I am officially the creator of the world's best bread that consists of rosemary, olive oil, and garlic. Basically makes me want to die of happiness. Smear some homemade Pepper Jelly on a slice (or three) and you will get the sparkly feeling in your tingly place, guaranteed.

It's gorgeous outside--go forth and frolic!

One Day, the Internet Will Kill Us All

Today I got to work and there was an ominous sign posted to the wall stating there was a major power outage in Herndon and ALL SYSTEMS WERE DOWN AND OUTLOOK'S NOT WORKING AND WE CAN'T ACCESS ANY INFORMATION AND WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!!

Now, most people in my office took this...badly. Screaming, cursing, sweating, ulcer-creating madness consumed the whole floor and reeked havoc to all in its path. However, I found this information as a source of comfort and relief--it guaranteed my morning of sitting around, reading my book, and catching up on what I do best: looking busy while crafting in my journal, writing to friends, and otherwise performing non-work-related tasks. Brilliant!

Sigh, life is rough.

I went to lunch with J + S and we pondered the idea of how much we "depend" on the Internet/cell phones/TV/technology, and how much better we would be without it (ironic that I'm musing about this via blog post? Meh). Anyway. I want to go back to the days of no TV in my house, negative cell phone obsessions, splotchy Internet connections, and more time with friends and lovers. I need a job "in the field" where I can rock some serious jorts, play in the dirt, and hold actual conversations that don't involve bitching about work (or discussing work in general). Let's get on that, people!

In the meantime, please observe this ridiculous birthday card that one of our graphic designers crafted me yesterday. When I first noticed the ribbon in the sun's hand, I was like, "Wha?" and it was quickly explained that the blue ribbon represents my love for the one and only, Pabst Blue Ribbon. Love it! Is it good, bad, or obscene that my entire office knows how much cheap beer my friends and I consume? Whatever. Living my life, god dammit! Plus, I'm rocking a VT shirt so you know I'm lookin' fly.

Booking hotels for bachlorette festivities...counting down the days till O'Keefe's blissful union (and post-wedding debauchery a la Wintergreen Resort!)

xoxo,

Hannah

In the Bedroom...

While I'm sure many of you fine and fabulous people spent your Valentine's wrapped up in a sea of sappy love sickness, I don't care. If I had my choice, this is where I would spend my next free weekend...burrowing deep under the covers of these delicious gems.

Ok. I'm really into this mirrored shit. I don't care if it's trendy of gaudy or whatever. I think it's sweet, and lord knows I've never met a mirror I didn't like.

So. This is very white. Like, compulsively white. It makes me want to whip my hair back n forth with paint on the ends to splash things up and drip some color onto this palette. However, I'm digging the super low, bed-on-the-floor look. It's just asking to have a Sunday crossword completed in its nest.

First off, I am automatically jealous of anyone living in a loft, much less a loft with exposed brick and chipping paint. Nothing says love like potential lead poisoning. Nothing.



This is J-Lo's bedroom. It almost makes up for the 98% skank vibes she puts out. I die for that light fixture. I pine for the flesh-colored, rosy walls. I want some GD lucite in my life! Damn you, Jenny. If this is what your block is like, sign me up.

My fav fabric, minus the color. This is what I would upholster my chairs with in my dream world.

My thoughts...exactly.



Happy Tuesday, hoebags. My face is feeling luscious post-indulgent facial and the angels are singing.

P.S. Speaking of angels...potential Holla Back DC! alert in my very office:

Get in the elevator. Hit L. Go down one flight. Two guys from my work get in, both old/decrepit--go figure. They push the button for P3. We ride down the elevator, them chatting, me ignoring. Arrive to the lobby and they realize they've pushed the wrong button. As I get off the elevator, one of them says, "Well, we forgot to push the right level--looks like we were distracted by the angel in the elevator with us! Couldn't get over what we saw! Did you see that? Bahahaha!"

Kill me. Angel of death if you look at me again, mofos.

That is all.

So Full I Could Die.

So today we had our farewell lunch for Agatha at Morton's Steakhouse. Let me just say that I am more full than I have ever been and have never seen a bill as large as ours. Also, fun fact: our CEO has a personal, mahogany wine safe with his name encrusted on the front that you see right when you walk in the door. Makes me wanna vom a little.

They personalized the menu--fancy pants class-style.

Almost everyone got gigantor pieces of steak--basically small calves on their plate. I know it's probably blasphemous to go to a steakhouse and order seafood, but I could not handle the bloody juices flowing in my face. Sickkkk.  Whatever, my shrimp + scallops were pretty amazing. 

Oh, and there were pies. And cakes. And hot chocolate molten lava brownie sundaes.

There is warm chocolate oozing cake inside this baby. With homemade ice cream. Die.

Oh, a cappuccino? Why not.
PS--these are the same cups/saucers that I got from the O Mansion with Alex!! Ours are with blue saucers though. Much trendier...

Working his way through the monster...slowly.

Bahh sads to see Agatha go. Long may she rock.

*Total Bill: $1,073 + amazeballs tip. I am not joking.  wtf wtf wtf wtf wtfffffffffffffffff

You Know It's A Good Day When...

...you're given free rein of the Staples catalog. Muah ha ha
Will anyone notice if I order a $400 humidifier for my cube? A leather-bound notebook? An automatic digital coin sorter??? We shall see...

Also--I have a chocolate frog sitting on my desk from Harry Potter World. Pretty pumped about that. Plus, I'm sipping green tea out of my classy new coffee mug thanks to the fantastic J.Johnson, got my girl Grace on the iPod, a good book to read, and I'm rocking a sweet pencil skirt.

It's like I'm not even at work, really.
Blah.
xxx

Lemme Upgrade Ya

Sooo, this weekend my mama came up to the hell-hole of NOVA to get her thrift on at The Big Flea in Chantilly. She came up Saturday night in a blaze of glory and we immediately drove to Ikea to drool and dream and splurge until our hearts were content.

I got an ironing board. And a lamp. And two new pillowcases for my bed. And a coffee jar. Holla. Moms got a trashcan, bathroom floor rug, and some wine glasses.

We are beyond easily amused.

Yesterday we spent the entire day being flea bags. We started out the day by me thinking I'd forgotten our $2-off tickets at home, only to discover that they were sitting in my car...the entire day. FML. Whatever, I made it though with some saweet new Pyrex mixing bowls to add to my new collection (thanks to Mama Parrish and her Christmas contribution).

*These are not my bowls, per say. See below, STAT!*

Tragedy Alert: I am missing one of the bowls! I've hunted on eBay, but I'm not good at that shit, plus I'm cheap, so if any of you fools stumble upon a turquoise Pyrex mixing bowl (I think it's the 1.5 qt one), throw me a bone and pick it up!

I also got a baby pipe tobacco tin that I'm using to store my chapstick:

"Edgeworth Extra High-Grade Sliced Pipe Tobacco"

Larus & Bro. Co. Richmond, VA U.S.A

"To the consumers of high-grade tobaccos...we desire to call your special attention to EDGEWORTH TOBACCO. It is the best combination that can be made, only finest selections of leaf being used. Every box of it is guaranteed not to burn the tongue and to give satisfaction. We will cheerfully refund money to any dissatisfied customers."

Also, picked up a badass bent fork key chain holder thingy to rock my work ID, solidifying my role as coolest coworker in the land. Duh.

Then we saw the usual junk that we figured we could craft and upgrade by about 3,000% on the cool-o-meter:

Mom bought some (unintentional) potentially racially offensive artwork that she thought was cool and historic or something. You can't hold her back.  

Then, we drove home, gorged on Potbellies, watched the Beyonce DVD because I just can't get enough, and crashed. Sads to see her leave, but twas a good weekend fo sho.

Get yo-self a case of the Mondays!

Sunday Bloody Sunday

It's Sunday and I'm at work. Again. And I've been here since 7:30am.

Kills me.

This calls for one thing, and one thing only.

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Heavy Drinking

(while donning fab fur hat)

That is all. Happy weekend.

Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

Rainy work day. Nothing going on. Quarter of a way through Invisible Man. Holiday Gala this Friday. Pumped for Asheville adventures.

Also, this is where Stella McCartney lives. Let the hating begin.
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Easy, Stella, looking a lil' like crazy bewitched hawk lady.

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Anyway. Over and out.

PS. This is my new website obsession. I will be rich and buy it all, thank you!

My So-Called Life.

Today we had a pig roast at work. Well, kind of at work. At Vint Hill. Which is like some Top Secret, out-in-the-boonies, random STG place where they store tanks and guns and shit.

Why a pig roast you might ask? Obviously, we cannot do anything at this company unless it revolves around some sort of massive food intake/dead animal ritual/obnoxious display of excess.

The only thing weirder than a roasting rump in Fall was the 12 year-old Hispanic priest that came with the CEO's family to say "grace" for everyone...except he speak-a-no-english and someone had to translate for him...except he was talking really fast and she couldn't listen and interpret at the same time...and it was aaaaawwwkkkkwaaarddd to say the least.

So, we did what we do best.

We feasted.

On this:

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Ain't got nothin' on my mama's recipe...

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Enjoy!

Whilst Working...

...I ran into these delicious images of some pretty sweet desks.
If only my cubicle could rival these bad boys...

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Secret armoire desk. Top notch, especially the orange phone. Ring-a-ding brilliant.

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Love the wallpaper. Love the round mirror. Love the turquoise accent pieces and the little baby second shelf on the left.

Hate the weird cone statue thing. wtf?

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Pink inspiration board of goodness. And I spy a horse photo. Bonus points!

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This weeping willow thing would sit on my desk and delight my senses till death.

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I think I really just like the painted white floors here. Yum.

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Cultured British map? Check. Spindly white chair? Check and check.

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Sooo much going on...but I love it. LIVE WHAT YOU LOVE, duh. Plus, the pillows/lamp/chair are amazeballs.

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I'm becoming a tiny bit obsessed with random collections of framed things. I especially love the fish in this one. And the bust. And of course, I lovvveeee the flowers and blue vase. Perfecto!

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Aaaaand this is what my chair will look like. Classy with a capital C.

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But really, truly, this is where I wish my office was. Swinging in the trees. Lovelovelovelovelovelovelove.
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Humptidy Dump Day...T-2.5 days till Codiak lovin' and the beach weekend....!