The cleanest my office will ever look

A few months ago, I decided to undertake a redecorating project. See, I have a problem: I eat books. To quote Bobby, "You've heard of the library, right?" Yes, I've heard of the library, but there is something so comforting about possessing a towering stack of books. Plus, I'm a writer. We support our own. I hope to someday write a novel that has a place on the sagging bookshelves of bibliophiles across the country. One can dream. That being said, my collection of literary tomes finally outgrew the hand-me-down bookshelves that followed me from home to home over the last seven years. It was time to upgrade. Here is a photo of my previous book storage situation:



With new shelves finally purchased, I set about dismantling my collection. The books lined my hallway, arranged in meticulous size-and-color order, awaiting their new home. The rows stretch on to infinity.



First things first, shelf number one was assembled. This proved tedious, so we quit for a few days after attaching it to the wall.



Later that week, the second shelf began to take shape. It was a wily particleboard beast, and took a chunk of my leg down with it as we were putting on the final touches. The connecting piece, designed to create a bridge of additional storage between the two shelves, also got a piece of me. While I was lining up the top with the screws that hold it, gravity got the better of me and dropped about 20 pounds of pressure on my finger, carving a perfectly round wound that bled profusely and caused me to have a minor panic attack. I decided to just leave the neosporin and band-aids on my bathroom counter after that. Patched up and determined to get this project done, I returned to the construction zone.



Bobby, handy guy that he is, attached some planks to the wall in order to even out the edges.





At last, the time came to reassemble my belongings. With great pride in my Ikea assembly skills, I present the finished product. Includes four vintage phones! Two from Portland, one from Natchez, and one from Denver, all in different colors. I love vintage phones. Personal to dad: note the framed sheet music on the right.





While I was at it, I decided to organize the rest of my office. Here is a rare photo of my desk without the five Melophobe-related notebooks that are usually splayed across it:



Plus a close-up of my award/ID badge/press pass display:



Finally, my vintage East German typewriter, vintage radio, and my only non-vintage phone:



And the sign above my door:



There you have it, the great office redecorate project of 2011 is now complete.

Three birthdays and the end of barbecue season

Yesterday involved a celebration of Conor, Candace, and Danny's birthdays. I actually thought the party was today, so it's a good thing I checked my calendar early in the day since I was the designated cake baker. Bobby and I went to the creepo cake store (which is the only cake store in town, so I will endure the creepo atmosphere long enough to obtain wacky things to stick on cakes), and decided on a desert island theme for the cake. We made an island out of sparkly tan and green sprinkles, and surrounded it with blue sprinkles. The island was populated by a moose and a cat hiding under the palm trees. Everything was going fine until I realized that I'd neglected to add the baking soda. Fortunately it was only five minutes into the baking process, so I stirred it in and hoped for the best. I'd say it turned out well.



Here are the three September birthday folks blowing out the candles:



I made lots of new friends and rather enjoyed myself:





We were introduced to Breylan's new gentlemanfriend, who brought delicious pasta and was generally awesome:



I also met Danny's new ladyfriend, Katie, who bought my bike last weekend. She was delightful as well, of course.



Bobby and Conor managed the grill:



Taco-dog was very tolerant of my decision to pick her up:



And everybody had a marvelous time. Brey and Candace are excellent hosts!



Once the sun set, a good group of us headed off to Rotture for some dancing and fun times. It was muggy and hot as usual, but the DJs have improved significantly since my last visit. The crowd was a manageable size, too, which made it possible to travel between the two floors with ease. I wish they'd had the back parking lot open for dancing. The temperature outside was perfect. Ah well. Bobby and I headed home around 1:00 so we could get up for breakfast at Genie's this morning with Jonathan and Conor. A lovely weekend indeed.

Today I'm taking it easy, prepping my office for photos of my new bookshelves, and generally laying low. Office rearrangement photos forthcoming!

Productive weekend

There's a heat wave on in Portland. The temperature is pushing 90, and I'm hiding in my air conditioned house.

Yesterday, we managed to sell both the couch and the set of chairs that have been gathering dust for ages. The living room looks oddly sparse without a big black couch in the corner, but soon there will be a vintage sideboard nestled in that space.

After the sale of our furniture, Bobby and I joined Holly at the Hollywood Theater for a showing of Midnight in Paris, which I loved. Obviously. Who knew Owen Wilson was a decent actor? Also the line about antibiotics is such a Woody Allenism. Ms. W, I apologize we couldn't see it together. Alas, it's well into the second-run theaters by now.

Holly insisted we keep the party going at the Wishing Well, where Kelly and Mark and Ethan would be singing karaoke. Anyone who knows me knows I can't pass up karaoke, so off we went to NoPo. I'd intended to sing one song and call it a night, but that's not what happened. I decided to try a Fiona Apple song first. Specifically this one:



Bobby, who wasn't planning to sing, decided to give it a whirl. He chose the True Blood theme song, and there was much squealing from me.

We ran through several more songs, and being my mother's child, I made friends with the handful of other people hanging around the bar. One lady liked our little group so much that she decided to pay for our drinks. I wanted to go to Burgerville on the way home, but they were closed. BOO. I probably didn't need a burger and fries at midnight anyway, but it sure sounded like an awesome idea at the time.

At the time of this writing, we are prepping for our True Blood season finale party. It may only be attended by the usual suspects (Conor, Jonathan, and recent additions Breylan and Candace), but that crowd definitely makes a party.

Three Days in Jersey

With Voodoo Doughnuts melting in our backpacks and a lack of sleep showing in our faces, we emerge from security at Newark Airport. A quick phone call later, and I'm off running. Near the airport food court, Weatherly is standing with a coffee in one hand and a tea in the other, ready to greet her birthday guests. We drive the few miles to her new house, greet Brandon and the cats, and distribute the transcontinental breakfast pastries.

By some miracle (also known as free beer at the airport), I slept the entire way from Portland to Boston, and arrived ready to make the most of this quick trip. After a few minutes to get organized, we're headed for a nearby pizza pub. We shared a basil pizza and a Mexican pizza between the four of us. I had wine, the rest of the table had summer beers.



Back at our home base, Brandon cooked an awesome meal while Weatherly, Bobby, and I chattered in the yard. We posed for some photos:



Then we stopped posing for photos (after a few glasses - alright, bottles - of wine):



Back inside, there was fried tofu and pasta with fresh herbs to enjoy:



Before long, we were back in the yard enjoying a warm summer night in New Jersey. Lit by the fire, we laughed, told stories, and talked of many fine memories made together:



As the fire cooled, Bobby and Brandon endeavored to restore it. They smashed pieces of plywood apart as we ladies looked on nervously. The boys were triumphant, and the fire burned on.





With plans to catch a Manhattan-bound train by morning, we all headed to bed around midnight.





Awake at 8:30 and on the train by five til nine, we made the SoHo Uniqlo store our first stop. While the rest of the country grudgingly accepts flare-legged jeans, I'll be stylishly clad in skinnies for the foreseeable future.



After a brief trip to CB2 to view a wardrobe, we walked uptown to Weatherly's and my old neighborhood. We stopped for lunch at Vegetarian's Paradise 2 on West 4th, where everything on the menu was an option. Bobby had the kung pao "chicken," and I had spicy "chicken" with udon noodles. Weatherly and Brandon had fried "chicken" and "ribs," respectively. Much sharing took place.





Once lunch was finished, I insisted on a photo in front of the building where Weatherly and I met eight summers ago. Call me nostalgic.



Landmark visits out of the way, it was time for some education. We caught a C train going uptown for a trip through the Museum of Natural History.



We learned about planets:



And astronauts:



I was a bison:



We saw walls of fish:



Stared at long-felled trees:



And finally left as the gates were closing.



With two hours before our next event, we settled in at a nearby bar to have a few drinks and await dinner with Laura Jean.



The wait at the Thai place was long, though, so we hopped across the street to an Indian restaurant touting itself as the best vegetarian food in the world. Post-dinner, this group shot was snapped by LJ's gentleman friend.



Not wanting to stop the party, we visited yet another bar. This one featured cocktails named for famous people, and I ordered a Pablo Neruda. Hijinks ensued.





Checking the train schedule, we finished our drinks, hugged on Ms. LJ and her companion, and skedaddled out to catch a cab. The driver, assuming we were tourists, took Broadway in order to get us stuck in traffic and charge a higher fare. He also drove like a maniac, as New York cabbies sometimes do. We got there in one piece, though, and headed back toward Jersey. Teamwork!



Our last day came too quickly. It was filled with missions. The first of which involved snapping a photo of Kelly's high school, which was within walking distance. Kel, this shot's for you:



Next stop was the Buttery Bakery in Cranford, where there were black and whites to be purchased. I selected seven from the case, and threw them in the freezer for maximum travel sturdiness. For scale purposes, each cookie is approximately the size of a salad plate. No joke. Observe the delicate craftsmanship, the clear sweep of an icing knife as it decorated the top. These are the real deal, my friend.



Our last mission involved finding a cover for Weatherly's e-reader, which Link was happy to help with:



Feet dragging, it was time to head for JFK airport. We'd changed our flight at the last minute for fear of missing the connection, which bought us precious extra time with our wonderful hosts. "Girls to the front!" I declared, and we drove through three boroughs blaring dance music. Bitten by the nostalgia bug once more, and acting as Car DJ, there was only one choice to make:



Cue the singing along. Cue the audible eye-rolling from the back seat. Cue the front seat not caring. **CLAP CLAP**



Justin Timberlake guided us past Coney Island's long-dormant Sky Jump:



And Britney Spears' "Toxic" led us to the gate:



Many thanks, Weatherly and Brandon, for being such delightful hosts and even more delightful friends. We'll see you soon.