Interior Design Blog Pet Peeves

This blog entry will appeal to no one, but I have to get these things off my chest. I am tired of:

• “The mix.” As in, Jenna is really into the mix. I have no idea what this means.
• “High and low.” No. Stop saying this. I understand that there are word count demands, but this phrase has no substance.
• Applying almost every design-y word to one room. Like, “this room feels raw, natural, refined, modern yet classic, with lots of neutrals and strong color elements.” Shut up. That is no room / every room.
• “Offhand.” I saw this first in Lucky magazine, where they talk about how offhand their meticulously planned outfits are. But now I’m seeing it on design blogs. The only thing offhand about interior design is the mess you cleaned up right before you took you AT house tour pictures. Let’s just make a rule – nothing that costs more than $5 can be called “offhand.”
• Animal hides. There is nothing more hilarious to me than a brownstone with a cowhide in it. WTF? Actually, this makes me laugh, so keep doing it, design people!
• It’s just Ikea. Look, everyone’s house is just full of Ikea. Okay, let me qualify that – everyone reading design blogs, and everyone featured on them, has a house full of Ikea. That’s okay, but let’s not pretend that someone has amazing taste when it’s 100% Ikea. Ikea has amazing taste.
• Two prints from Etsy does not make your wall a “gallery wall.”
• Where are you hiding your cords? Just once I want to see a power strip in a house tour / sneak peek.
• Misidentifying mid-century modern. Look, not EVERYTHING is MCM. For example, all your Ikea stuff is automatically not MCM. Many people like that style, but it annoys us when you promise MCM and show a coffee table with inlaid glass. No.
• Knitted throw pillow covers. This is just my weird thing, but knitted pillow covers are a terrible idea. You know what yarn does? It pills. Also, it sheds. This is like covering your throw pillows in dog hair. Oh, AND it’s hard to clean.
• The Eames rocker. I really like it, but now I’ve seen it in 99% of houses on the internet and I feel like I can’t like it anymore. I hope there is a mysterious accident where all Eames rockers are destroyed and everyone also gets Eames rocker amnesia so I can get one and not feel weird about it.
• Nice stuff in a shitty apartment. Look, your priorities are none of my business. But why do you have a $300 set of hooks in your little apartment? Maybe you really like those hooks. But they make me sad, like when someone asks Suze Orman if she can buy a Chanel purse on her $1,000 a month salary. (No.) I am not judging you (the rest of these bullet points ARE judging, though), I just wish you DIDN’T want those hooks so bad. Target makes hooks. They are cheap. Also, of all the things to go high-end on – hooks? Really?
• Glut. The source of all the aforementioned problems is that I read more than 50 home blogs a day. I am only hurting myself. Also, I would describe my design philosophy as “anonymous hotel room,” so I don’t know why I read them in the first place.

Shut up, Dove

Um, hi! Yeah. So…what have you been up to? I don’t want to write an update, not really. I quit my job that I did not like, had two excellent months off, got a new job that I do like, and here I am!

I keep these Dove dark chocolate piece thingers at work, because sometimes after lunch a just want a little tiny bit of chocolate, you know? I don’t even like chocolate that much, but whatever. They come wrapped in foil, and on the inside of the foil are what I believe to be “inspirational” messages (oh, wait, they are apparently “PROMISE messages,” caps decidedly not mine).

Today’s PROMISE message is “Go against the grain.” I frequently am ordered to “Go to my happy place” or “Smile at someone today.” Sigh. YOU smile at someone, Dove.

Oh dear. In searching for a list of these messages on the Internet, I came across the following, and it made me sad. Allow me to make you sad, too: http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20080324002112AAiQFNp.

You’re welcome.

Warm Christmas: Part 2 of definitely not going to be 7

Merry Christmas! I guess I’ll recap the last few days down here – the clubhouse hasn’t really been open today or yesterday, hence the lack of posting. If this gets posted today, it will be because I brought the laptop over and sat outside to get the signal. (Note: Obviously, this did not get posted on Christmas.)

Christmas was really relaxed, actually. We had to take my brother to the airport in the afternoon, so we just took it easy. The rest of the family went to Animal Kingdom; we went to Waffle House and saw Walk Hard. Not a bad day, all in all. It’s nice and quiet in the house right now since it’s just a few of us, but everyone will be back from Disney soon, and then it will be very, very loud again (we are up to 15 people, two of which are babies and three of which are big, loud, brothers). (Oh wait! They just called, and my younger uncle and his wife are coming back, because they have normal amounts of energy/tolerance for Disney, but the rest are staying until it closes. Even though they went to bed at 2am and got up at 7am. And have two babies in tow. Man.) We do have a tiny Christmas tree, so there’s that.

We did a few presents Christmas Eve. Or rather, my dad’s two brothers’ families had presents for the rest of us and we slackers just took ‘em (I won 6 bucks on the scratch ticket I got from my aunt). My youngest uncle made us all lovely wooden pens, which was very nice. We had a really quiet yummy dinner of pre-made stuff from the supermarket (turkey, ham, various casseroles and stuffings). We’ve had a lot of pie. Like, a lot of pie – key lime, sweet potato, pumpkin, and peach thus far.

The bulk of Christmas Eve, before we did all that, we spent in Tarpon Springs, a village famous for being the largest producer of sponges in the US. It was founded by a Greek guy back in 1902, so everything is Greek – the food, the street names, the people. We had an awesome and ridiculously huge Greek lunch, and went out on a boat for a demonstration of how it used to be to go sponge-diving, complete with the guy dressed in an actual, old, 172-pound diving suit. It was actually pretty neat. I have photos, but not a card reader, so I can’t post anything til I get home.

Sunday, we took the fanciest tour money can buy of the Kennedy Space Center. It. Was. Awesome. Nature was a much larger part of the tour than I thought. You get on a bus and they drive you all over NASA’s land, stopping along the way to let you get out and take photos. So this drive goes through the nature reserves that are part of the complex, and we saw alligators, wild pigs, dolphins, turtles, and a ton of different birds, including creepy black vultures. Super cool. All of the NASA building are so 60s, because they are big into reusing stuff, so it all still looks very Apollo 13, which is sort of disconcerting. We saw the building where they assemble the whole shuttle setup – the orbiter, the fuel tank, and the solid rocket boosters. I will post the pictures, but the building is INSANELY huge. The Statue of Liberty can fit inside, upright.

We also saw the launch pads, including the pad where the Atlantis is sitting, all ready to go in January. Even from a few miles away, which is as close as people can go, it was very impressive. NASA has preserved an original Saturn V rocket, the kind that was used to launch the Apollo capsules, and has it suspended horizontally along the length of the building, about 20 feet off the ground so you can walk under it. Holy Crap. I have never seen anything so huge, apart from, you know, buildings, that was built by people. I can’t even begin to describe the scale, and I don’t know that the pictures will quite convey just how ridiculous it was.

That’s my time in Florida so far! There is a lot of driving, which is annoying, since I’m not used to driving so much and it’s not very scenic. It is very, very flat, and alternates between modern, “classy,” California-style strip malls (stucco buildings done in carefully different facades and warm, bright colors), and rundown, neon, pawn-shop filled strip malls. We drove by over five Hooters in the less than two hours from here to Tarpon Springs yesterday. We did finally find a Starbucks.

Still Warm: Part 1.5 of 7…ish?

So I am in the “clubhouse” in this little housing development we are staying in, because the wireless is here. We think we may be able to find a place back at the house where we also get it, so if we can, I’ll be writing more tonight, but if not, I just wanted to say a little bit more about yesterday, our day of Never-ending Travel.

I posted from the Tampa airport. Eventually my brother did arrive (I was right, through Atlanta) and we went down to get a cab to take us to the Tampa Amtrak station. Well this cabbie REALLY wanted to drive us all the way to Orland, for $120. Admittedly, that is less than it should have cost, but it was only $22 to the train station then $18 for us both on the train, so… And also, as we explained to the cabbie, we 1) did not know where we were going in Orlando, 2) we did not have the gate code or house keys, and 3) no one else’s flight had arrived yet. He spent an additional 10 minutes trying to convince us.

The Tampa Amtrak station was awesome, in a totally post-apocalyptic, insane, loud, hilarious way. We had 2 (!) hours to kill there, and there was not a lot going on. The building itself was cute, in an old-tyme train station kind of way, with seats that look like pews and high ceilings and molding and whatnot. The men working the counter were amazing, just shouting out order and instructions and yelling about everything to this HUGE line of people. Pretty remarkably chaotic, given that a grand total of 4 trains goes through Tampa each day, always at the same time. They were posted on a bulletin board.

The outside was the best part though – all cracked concrete platforms, rusted rails and even more rusted platform shelters. Everyone just kind of crowded onto the platforms while the counter guys got in golf carts and drove up and down each side of the platform beeping maniacally, forcing everyone far from the edges and into the middle. The platforms weren’t raised, which became a huge problem when the train arrived. Literally everyone was disembarking (it had come from Miami and was going to Orlando and beyond), and nearly all of them were OLD. Really old, and they were not having an easy time climbing out of the train, down the very narrow stairs, with their luggage. One at at time. And no one could board until every last old person was off of that train, so they were trying to keep the flood of people back from the door, but these people just kept inching up, cutting in line, poking around. My brother and I were laughing so hard, we could barely stand it.

The train ride was a hoot, it was a slightly scary-looking collection of people that got on. And it was not scenic – maybe the most interesting thing we saw was a farm and heavy equipment graveyard.

Today was a big improvement, but I’ll likely write about that tomorrow!

Warm Christmas: Part 1 of 7…ish?

I don’t know if the villa has wireless, so this may actually be just Part 1 of 1.

I’m in the Tampa airport, waiting for my brother to arrive. Of course, I have no idea what airline he comes in on or what time he gets here. 11-something, as I recall. It’s not a direct flight and I don’t remember where he connects from, so that isn’t helpful (my money is on Atlanta, I’ll keep you posted). I was there when he made the flight but failed to mentally note it. And then failed to really pursue that information later. So given that, the Tampa airport does have this to recommend it: all terminals are connected to a central building with tables, shops, crap food, and free wi-fi. He has to come through here, so at least I know where to be.

It’s not as hot here today as it was supposed to be, but it is humid, of course. I can feel it even from inside the airport. I haven’t spent a Christmas somewhere warm in a while. Pretty much since college, when I finally put an end to the alternating Christmas scheme (one year with mom, the other with dad, the other parent “getting” New Years), it’s been all-PA, all the time. I’m not super-enthused about the locale, and 7 days seems like an insanely long time to be somewhere like this, somewhere that I can’t get around myself (you can’t walk anywhere from our villa, I Google-mapped the hell out of it to check, and we’ll have a small fleet of rental cars that I can’t really drive anyhow).

They’ve really decked the place out, the airport. Seriously, from my chair, which swivels, I can actually see 34 wreaths. Maybe to make up for lack of environmental Christmas cues? So far, I’ve seen the biggest person I’ve ever seen in real like, balancing his laptop on his stomach. That kind of bummed me out. And I was starving, having gotten up at 4:30 to catch the first T to the airport (crossing my fingers, since that first T was only early enough to get me to Logan 45 minutes pre-flight…sorry, mom). But the only food in this central building is a TGIFridays, Taco Bell, and BK. Because of stupid Fast Food Nation I’ve been avoiding the chains (not because they are not delicious, and having worked at Dunkin I have a high tolerance for food prep…issues, but because they are wrecking shit up). But hunger won and I ate a little thing of crown-shaped chicken nuggets.

The airport was not as bad as I had feared it might be but it was like a freaking orphanage or something. This one is too, just kids on everything, falling over, screaming, being adorable/irritating, depending on the child. Lots of sullen looking teens, being dragged to visit the retirement communities housing their grandparents.

I’m also very impressed with myself because I managed to smash my puffy black coat into a flat mass and get it in my tiny suitcase upon arrival. Go me. Now when I open it my suitcase will be like a tiny, soft, slowly-exploding bomb.

Just saw the word “monorail,” so that Simpsons song will just replay in my head for 7 hours now.

Safe travels to anyone else making a journey this weekend!

Dudes: Pay Attention

If you aren’t reading the semi-regular “Crap Email from a Dude” features on Jezebel, well, you really should. Personally, I haven’t gotten a really good crap email from a guy since college, but nearly anyone, boy or girl, who has ever broken up with someone, um, ever, will probably see something familiar in these. I know I’ve sent at least one crap email in my life. But not since I turned, like 20. These people are often notably not 20. High comedy.

Craigslist: A Selection

I think that maybe my favorite part of selling things on Craigslist, besides the free and relative ease of making people come pick things up instead of having to mail them, is the excellent email you get in response to a posting. I’m selling an old laptop, and have had several real inquiries, but many more…I don’t even know what they are. Some of it must be pure spam, computer-generated by scammers looking to get people to send them contact info or something. Others appear to be individually-crafted, but no less inarticulate. Below, a selection.

From someone claiming to be a young lady named Samantha,* but whose actual email address includes the phrase “real tool,” we have obvious computer spam:

Hello Seller,
Is your listed item still available for sale.

No buyer, I am sorry, my unidentified item is not for you.

I have three emails from a “leonardo” demanding: “Can you call me @ 555-123-4567.” Nooooo. No I cannot. You frighten me.

Some are clearly real people with awesome presentation and communication skills:

Hi, I am Bob.  I offer you $175.00

Hi Bob, I am Ta. I decline your offer. But I do like how you roll.

Something about responding to a Craigslist ad just makes people be awesome. I mean, that was Bob’s WHOLE email. No introduction. No additional information. And yeah, when you are looking for something particular on Craigslist, you have to send a lot of emails, fast, and you don’t have time to have a chat, but still.

Lastly, from someone who changed their email address to have lots of symbols and alternating caps, like &*iAmAwEsOmE*&:

Hello I want it. Can u meet me in Allston n show me is good work then I give u cash

So I guess I’m going to Allston!

*Names changed! Even “donatello,” but I bet you might have a 1 in 3 shot at guessing the name he did use.

And then he had to go and RUIN IT

I have this draft post saved in Google Docs that says: “gays in the military – woo!” Last week, there was so much positive gay-related news! More specifically, the Metro  was all gayed out. Sometimes the Metro, perhaps accidentally, perhaps not, seems to have a theme: lots of articles on gun violence, gubernatorial initiatives, whatever. And one day last week, the theme was definitely gays in the military related. There was a story on the ex-servicemembers whoa re trying to get their lawsuit regarding their dismissal from the military back in the courts, a story about Massachusetts representative Martin Meehan’s bill that would repeal Don’t Ask-Don’t Tell, and a local puff piece on the path to marriage a local gay couple took. All awesome, especially the possible repeal of DADT.  A few former officers, now openly gay, are joining up with Meehan to try and get the bill passed (former Marine Sgt. Brian Fricke and former Marine Staff Sgt. Eric Alva). The article in the Metro also highlighted Alva, who lost a leg, and won medals, and who is clearly exceptionally brave and patriotic.  He was the first serviceperson to be seriously wounded in Iraq. He talked about how scary it is to be gay in the military – if you die, the government isn’t going to inform your partner, because to them, you have no partner. You are not allowed to tell them you have a partner.  Every interview I’ve read with a gay former servicemember cites that as their biggest concern – not that the partner won’t get their military benefits (which is also terrible), or that they are afraid their colleagues would be awful to them, or that they would lose their job (although also certainly at the fore of their stress) – it’s that if they died, their partner would be the last to know.

So I was happy to see action being take on the DADT front. Now, of course, I am very very angry at Gen. Pace. Well, maybe not so angry – I’m not really surprised that he thinks that being gay is like being an adulterer, and is “immoral.” I’m surprised that he said it out loud. But I think it reflects a problem common to many in the Bush administration – a total lack of understanding that not everyone sees the world the way you do.  I think that he is probably surprised that so many people were outraged by his statements.

And, like Tim Hardaway a few weeks ago, he isn’t sorry for what he thinks, nor does he believe he is wrong to think that, he is only sorry that people heard him. It’s the non-apology, “I’m sorry you feel that way.” Just typing those words almost sent me into a rage blackout. I HATE the non-apology. So condescending!

I suppose I have nothing more to say on the subject, except to say shut up, Gen. Pace.

Who’s the biggest tool?

Hello! Yes, I have been remiss in posting. But I also have been in 3 states other than my own in the last week, so, you know, get off my back, etc.  I too am mostly only capable of miscellany, but miscellany with a theme! I would like to second Ro’s words about Friday Night Lights. It’s really good. It makes me cry every time; I guess maybe that’s not a selling point for everyone.

I was on the west coast last week on election day (don’t worry – in Cambridge, the Election Commission stays open all weekend before the big day). As a result of my location, I got to stay up until the Democrats were a mere two states away from awesome victory, so that was nice. And imagine how pleased I was when CNN took the time to send an email alert to my boss’s blackberry about Britney dumping K-Fed, so that she could be the one to announce that fine news to me. Side note: I love a good pun, and I love the nickname "FedEx." Heh. Ro was kind enough to send me a list of all the awesome things that happened while I was gone, which included the above, along with news of Rumsfeld’s departure. Woo!

While I am pleased that what went around came back around to the two aforementioned gentlemen,
what’s up with O.J.? Dude. Not cool. I mean, not only is he publishing this book in which he basically says, "Yeah, not only did I kill my wife, let me tell you exactly how," CNN.com tells me this:

"Simpson has failed to pay the $33.5 million judgment against him in the
civil suit. His NFL pension and his Florida home cannot legally be
seized. He and the families of the victims have wrangled over the money
in court for years."

Charming.

So who IS the biggest tool: FedEx, Rumsfeld, or O.J.?

I’m going to rule out FedEx. It is definitely not cool to spend like $50 million of your wife’s money, especially since it was presumably on forties, pot, trucker hats, and manpris (tm Go Fug Yourself). And while in some ways it is awesome, it also is quite appalling that he seems to be totally unfazed by the way that people aren’t even coming to his free concerts. Only a special kind of tool can continue to think he is a ladies’ man and cool dude in the face of such public mockery. BUT. Britney did marry him and let him get away with that crap for a long time, so.

I guess Rumsfeld v. O.J. isn’t really a tough call either. O.J. is definitely a world-class tool, and I am sure I don’t need to enumerate the reasons. But Rumsfeld. Oh, Rummy. The hubris! Engaging in a course of action leading to the deaths of thousands of American troops and tens, possibly hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilians, and the refusal, right up to the day of his "resignation," to admit that he made mistakes. Just because an apology can’t fix the mistakes made in Iraq, just because it can’t bring those people back to life, doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be made.

Only one of these people actually makes me want to vomit, and thus, Rumsfeld is the biggest tool. Props these folks for suing his ass.

Bits!

I have returned to America! Here are some things.

1) I had a lot of TV to watch when I got back. I am mostly caught up, down to just this week’s Wednesday and Thursday shows. It’s been hard, I’m not going to lie. Some stuff had better start getting canceled, or I will never be able to leave the apartment again.

2) On my flight from Barcelona to France, I sat next to the cousin of the character Janice from Friends. She was such an Ugly American, and coupled with her annoying voice, that made for a very cringe-y flight for me. No ice for her water? The French! Sigh.

3) Barcelona was very clean. They had people out in tiny cars doing trash collection and street cleaning all the time. In contrast to the cleanliness, there was a lot of graffiti.

4) I have a terrible cold. HF suggested that it was the Spanish Flu.

5) The subway was incredibly easy to use. The city as a whole was very navigable. But the commuter rail type train was impossible to figure out, which is unfortunate, since that is how you get to the airport.

6) In Barcelona, I ordered fisherman’s paella, since the city is proud
of its seafood. It came with two whole prawns, and two whole things
that looked like tiny lobsters (I think they were langostinos). I
didn’t want to be rude, so I felt I had to eat one of each. I had no
idea how to disassemble them, but I managed. It was really gross. Don’t click on that thumbnail unless you are ok with sea creatures.

7) Something I did not order in Barcelona, but wanted to: Plate of Ham. Really, it’s a plate of jamon de pais, which is really more like prosciutto. Just a plate of it, laid out in one layer.

Barcelona may be clean, but sometimes, not so much with the people. I mean, anywhere in Europe really, you are likely to encounter some serious B.O. (Here, too, of course, especially on places like the train, so that you can’t escape.) Universality does not make it less stinky though.

9) People dressed very casually in Barcelona, surprisingly so, given the excellent shopping and proximity to Paris. Lots of jeans, t-shirts, sweaters, etc. And all the women wore flats! I really saw maybe 10 pairs of heels, and usually that was boots. But the hair. My greatest regret is not getting a picture of the hair. Two major "styles:" Dying your head one of two shades of unnatural red (orangey or purplish), or giving yourself a streaky, overly-layered longish mullet. Even more confusing was that only half of the women had done either of these, which means that they looked at all the other ladies with their lovely, simply cut hair, often brunette, often wavy, and thought: "I mean, that looks ok, but I think I should cut off great hunks of mine and dye it with cranberry juice."

10) The big, semi-open-air markets were cool, and filled with all these beautiful and interesting fruits, candy, peppers, spices, and vegetables. And then I saw a cow’s head.