A completely unbiased music plug:

I especially dig "Stay on the Ground." 

Weekend

Preparing.

Hope to see everyone out at Lowcountry Artist Market tomorrow! seek vintage is totally Springed out.

Lowcountry Artist Market

It's one of my favorite times of the year again!:

 

If you're in Charleston next Saturday, March 19, you should stop by the Music Farm for the Lowcountry Artist Market. There will be crafts and vintage (ehem...seek vintage will be there) and art and delicious food from the Hello...My Name Is BBQ food truck (their pulled pork tacos make me sigh with delight). Plus, it's free to attend (unless you buy something)! Did I mention that seek vintage will be there?

Cute Boys in History.

Pre-hipsters. 

On the Tweeter and the YouTubes.

Updating a blarg is really difficult when real life is so much fun. Anyhow, my days as of late have been a lot of ambient Icelandic music and open windows and windstorms, and exploring, and talking so late into the evening that the chirping of the birds the next morning interrupts the conversation. It's been strolling in to work at 11am with your pals asking, "Where have you been?" But that's what life is, right? Life lulls you into a simple routine that, just as it gets so comfortable that you think you know every groove and nook by memory, it drops an adorable boy with a beautiful voice out of the atmosphere into an entertainingly trashy Valentine's party thrown by radio station and a sex shop, veering you onto a completely different path. Because that is how life is. And that's what I like about it.

Saturday Walk

February Sunday

Oh, Sundays. I think they're so wonderful because you stretch them out to make the most of them before another week of work. Picking narcissus blossoms from the yard, French press coffee, helping a friend choose paint samples at Lowe's (with the right person, this can actually be fun), biking up to Closed for Business to hang out with beautiful boys who tell you that you have good skin, and agonizing over what color to paint your nails for dinner with an interesting fellow. Spring is springing, friends. It's springing up everywhere.

Going to Georgia

John Darnielle used to get his hair cut at the salon where I worked in Durham, back in my days of living in Chapel Hill. I never told him that I knew who he was, or anything like that. I wanted to say something fangirlish every time he came in, but what do you say and how do you say it? How do you tell him that once, years and years ago, a curious boy put "Going to Georgia" on possibly the most perfect mix CD of all time and you listened to it so much that you could anticipate every strum of the guitar. And that the CD, and that song, shook you up and made you feel magic, and made you wonder if that tall, quizzical boy was thinking that "the most remarkable thing about coming home to you is the feeling of being in motion again; it's the most extraordinary thing in the world" about you. And that the song and mix made you think too much about a boy you weren't supposed to think about, not like that. How do you say anything close to that without sounding like a tremendous douche? It's a tricky thing. So I didn't say it; I smiled and small-talked and checked off his name and his wife's name in the appointment book.

Fryday.

I'm having one of those weeks when my head is aswarm with music. I can barely think for all the songs ringing between my ears. I'm trying to sort out a lot of jumbly weirdness that has happened this week and shake off all the eerie feelings that keep clinging to me. Yuck, yuck, yuck.

On a lighter and brighter note, in a few short hours, the pup will be packed up and we're heading to Charlotte to hang with family. For the fam, this weekend holds a great occasion, as the Packers have made the Super Bowl. Though most sports mean less than nothing to me, I will even don some green and gold, though those colors do nothing for my complexion. That's how much I love these people. And I'm going to my sister's basketball game today (if I didn't look so much like my mom, I'd swear I was adopted). This is a big damn weekend. So much sports. I'm going to have to drink a lot. (What is the etiquette of bringing a flask to a high school basketball game?)

Here's a song I'm playing over and over as I down the biggest cup of Circle K coffee ever:



I have a crush on this song. I wish I could feel about a boy the way I do about this song. This song is a 6-foot-tall, brown haired dude with a beard and hidden tattoos and a husky laugh and fantastic cooking skills who can open jars and wears Band of Outsiders. THAT'S how much I love this song.

Listen up, readers.

I hate that I have to clarify this, but just to be sure:

Please do not repost my blog posts into your blog without giving me credit. It's not flattering; it's creepy.

However, if you want to share something I wrote, gimme a little credit (or a lot; I love a good shout out) with a link back to my blog or something.

Thanks!

Listen up, boyfriend(s).

Late night thoughts about...boys. (What else?)

*Style.  Mine: If I hold up two dresses and ask you, "Which one should I wear?" You better pick one, and have a  good reason for it ("I like your rack in that one" never hurts.). If you give a half-assed response such as, "You look good in everything," I will fight you. That is not a compliment. It's laziness. Also, you aren't allowed to be mad when I inevitably go with the other dress. Bonus points if you take even a tiny interest in my style. Yours: fitted dark denim, classic looks, and a tattoo or two would not be judged negatively. Also, be able to grow facial hair.

* Music. Know a lot of it and a lot about it. More than me. All kinds. Old-school R&B is non-negotiable.

* Movies. Lots of these. If you don't do subtitles, get out now.

* Humor. Mandatory. Laughter is way sexier than...well, than a lot of things. Making me laugh is hugely important. If you think I'm a little bit funny, then this deal is sealed.

* Nerdiness. Also mandatory. Dudes who care about things totally do it for me. Please read books. Please.

* Dates. I could not care less about Valentine's day, red roses, or steak dinners. Be prepared for lots of laziness: bottles of wine and endless albums on a Sunday night, or heads bowed together over crossword puzzles (in pen!) in the corner of a coffee shop. Also aimless walks and talks. Tons of those.

* Dogs. Must be a dog person, or at the very least, a Maya person.

* Friends. Treat me slightly better than yours, and adore mine just slightly less than I do. I will do the same for you and yours. 

* Miscellany. Be able to: open jars, untangle my really tangled necklaces, stay calm if I cry (not often, but it happens), drive stick-shift, make conversation with my family, tolerate my personal dramatics, have street smarts (I am too naive), be slightly more realistic than me.

This is probably why I haven't been in a serious relationship for a while. But what can I say? I like being overly specific. If it were up to my Oma, any ole doctor or lawyer would do ("And if you don't like them that much, their jobs will keep them so busy that they'll barely be home anyway."). Oh well.

How I'd Wear It.

When it comes up that I'm in to thrifting and vintage, some people say that they can't figure out how to wear old things or put them together. I thought I'd put together some things from seek vintage, because what's more fun than playing with clothes? (Actually, some things, including boys and champagne, are more fun, but that's beside the point.)

blazer, blouse, skirt (coming soon to seek vintage), bag, shoes

blouse, skirt, bag, shoes (coming soon to seek vintage)

dress, Stuart Weitzman shoes (coming soon to seek vintage), pup (not for sale)

I think I'll do posts like this more frequently, so if you see something at seek vintage and are wondering how I'd wear it, email me at shopseekvintage@gmail.com or leave a comment, and I'll show you!

A Rainy Tuesday.

I'm bummed to be missing out on Washed Out at Eve Level Art (why am I so stingy about paying more than $15 for things?) tonight, but it does free me up for ladies' beers and bowling. When God closes a door, he opens a window. Amiright?

The Google.

Should I feel accomplishment or fear? I think this is a sign that I have too much of an internet presence. Oh well. I might as well keep going until "sabrina heise international celebrity" shows up. I also think I'm going to Google myself more often.

Seek Vintage updates.

After a bit of a hiatus, seek vintage has some new additions!

Dooney & Bourke Essex handbag SOLD

Doncaster woven silk double-breasted blazer

vintage fisherman's cardigan SOLD

Stanley Blacker tailored blazer SOLD

Coach cognac leather oxfords SOLD

? Stuart black leather booties SOLD

The last pair of shoes are something of a mystery. The first part of the brand name is worn off. All that's legible is "Stuart." I've ruled out Stuart Weitzman, because it looks like this Stuart is a last name. They aren't Colin Stuart, because the quality of shoes are much higher (made in Italy, and "vero cucio"). The logo doesn't look like Jill Stuart's, and I'm out of ideas. If anyone knows what brand these shoes might be, I'd love to know!

Last night I wore a black lace skirt and feathers in my hair to celebrate the birthday of a co-worker who makes possibly the most adorable drunk person I've ever seen. We laughed among boys whose clothes were accented with tiny whales and acted silly. Later, gin and tonics were drunk in a half-full bar, while tales of a clandestine romance were unfolded before me. Not a half-bad Friday.

Repurposed.

New year, old idea. Frankly, I miss my LiveJournal. I miss just slightly over-sharing and name-dropping and philosophizing and rambling and throwing pity parties and celebrating the small things. I'll never be one of those gals with a dream-like, photogenic life, but I am someone whose garrulousness and awkwardness allows me to take part in some random situations, and I feel like sharing them on a public platform for the time being.

So follow me as I navigate the late-20-something waters with all the dignity and maturity of a 17-year-old.

For example, did I mention the time I joined Match.com (last week)? As you, dear reader(s), may or may not know, I am a social networking addict. In my more emo, pre-Facebook days, I was at one time a member of MakeoutClub (I can't believe this still exists) and other such sites. That, combined with my enjoyment of posting flattering pictures of myself  on the internet, and all the stories of people whose best friend's third cousin met the love of their life through an online dating site started getting to me. The idea of being able to be a voyeur into the lives of some of Charleston's single guys was too much to resist. Anyhow, once I joined, I lasted all of four days. I didn't respond to a single email, wink, favorite list, poke, cattle-prod and other such methods of semi-passive-aggressive flirting from random shirtless (and clothed) dudes in the Charleston area.

I give many congratulations to the people who have met the love of their lives online, and I do believe it's possible. I, however, was entertained yet completely weirded out by messages like, "How would you like to spend some time with an Italian Bad Boy???" or three consecutive messages from a 42-year-old with three children...the first two messages detailing his life and childhood, and the third telling me that he was so excited by me (though I hadn't communicated with him in any shape or form) that he sent my picture to his mother and brother. A day later, he wrote again, juuuust to check in.

Upon canceling a membership, Match.com makes you choose from a list of reasons why you're leaving.  No matter which selection I chose, I felt like a jerk. One was phrased like: "The selection isn't good enough here. I am looking for perfection." I could almost hear the seeping disdain in that choice.

Here are the selections I wish they offered me:

* Too many Republicans
* Not enough guys who know the difference between your/you're and their/there/they're
* Only solid profile belongs to best friend of someone I sort of dated
* I don't count hunting/four-wheeling as my top activities and would probably be a total bore to most
* I'm too awkward

Needless to say, until there is an online dating site for nerdy yet mildly attractive people who enjoy word games, music, and historical anomalies, I doubt I will foray into the land of online dating again.

However, this will give me tons more time to drink wine and over-share my personal life on my blog, so there's that.

Because I like to occasionally endorse various food and drink products.

I bought these Rold Gold Dark Dipped Bavarian Twists for the first time before Christmas, and am now thoroughly obsessed. I found out after much research that these seem to be limited edition holiday snacks and probably won't be on the shelves much longer. I actually purchased the last two bags at the Belle Hall Harris Teeter. Whoops.

Anyway, if they still have these at your local grocery store, I highly recommend you purchase them. They will CHANGE YOUR LIFE. That's all.

27.

I am officially 27. I'm now going to go to Costco to purchase the biggest jar of eye cream I can find. Just kidding. I'm just getting Botox. Just kidding. I'm just going to eat a cupcake for breakfast. Not kidding.

Here are my 2011 and 27 resolutions:
More:
* cooking/baking
* yoga
* travel
* Seek Vintage-ing
* writing

Less:
* complaining
* impulse buying
* nail-biting
* interrupting
* procrastinating