Waiting for Spring

It's been bittersweet reading about how much others are enjoying the nice spring weather where they are - for whatever reason, spring is dragging its feet on the way to Oregon. The rain has been icy and the wind a'blowin' and waking me up in my sleep. The sun is hiding and it's been so grey out that I have to turn on our lights in the middle of the day - and I hate turning on lights in the middle of the day. Artificial light is only endearing at night.

T-shirt weather! Where for art thou?

Oh, well. At least Pretty Woman is on.

Grey Ghost

It seems our new place is haunted after all.

Also: new layout! Kind of? Kind of. New tweaks, anyway.

Pony Party for Party People

image via UO

How are we feeling about this swimsuit? Because I kind of love it. Ignore the pocket in the back. Or don’t, because that model has a stellar rear. One reviewer said she loves the suit but it’s “not great if you are trying to pick up guys.” Perhaps we don’t have the same taste in men.

Equally awesome suits: Skeleton! Cat! Stars!

When you're strange

Strange things as of late:

-the woman who muttered "Quack!" under her breath as she angrily stormed out of Simon's doctor's office just before we were called in
-the "Best Breakfast Spot in Portland" 8 years in a row or something only accepting checks - though their pigs in a blanket were to die for, so I just asked "how much?" and signed away
-the snow! So much snow! It's March, Oregon, March! And Spring Break, for crying out loud!
-the conversations of truckers picked up by Simon's baby monitor (not to mention all the supposed aliens and ghosts we hear through that thing)
-the fact that I missed the opportunity to attend the midnight showing of Hunger Games . . . lame, Jules, lame
-the old woman I recognized at my library's "How to Download Library eBooks" mini-class and the lecture she gave me on how her granddaughter "threw her life down the drain after that trip to Russia"
-the weirdo emails I get in my old "ohnojules" Gmail account linked to my old blog . . . spammers asking if they can sponsor me (for a fee) or if I'll sponsor them (also for a fee)

. . . and that about caps it. Happy Weekend!

life lately, according to my dslr

Because Instagram filters make me squint.

1. Seve right before/after a sneeze, can't remember which // 2. We call this Simon's "turtle face" // 3. Free tote bag from Aerie! // 4. Cousin Monika trying on her five trial pairs of Warby Parkers - these were the winner // 5. Feeling dumb during a "Seve, will you take my picture?" session // 6. G'night, y'all!

Simon at 5 months

Technically Simon is 5 1/2 months old, but I regret not recording his first 4 months on this blog, so . . . here we go.

Simon's accomplishments:
Crawling . . . backwards
Rolling, during waking hours and sleep
Squawking and yelling "bababababababababah!" and once uttering "mama!" somewhere in there
Sitting up on his own for long periods of time when propped up
Two teeth coming in
A love affair with frozen bananas in a mesh feeder
His first ride in a grocery cart

Simon's unfortunate accomplishments:
Crawling . . . backwards
Flopping out of the Bumbo
Waking at 2:30 AM nightly to complain about the aforementioned two teeth coming in
An adamant displeasure for teethers

Simon's achievements in nobody's eyes but mine:
Sneezing and farting at the same time
Indifference to rice cereal, yet nevertheless eating it
Extreme excitement when LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It" or Johnny Cash's "Tennessee Flattop Box" is played
Always wakes up bewildered and confused with furrowed eyebrows like he's had a bad dream . . . then sighs with relief and flashes a huge grin when he sees me . . . oh, Motherhood! I love thee so

Itsa art

I can't dance

I have unwittingly fulfilled that hallway vinyl encouragement "Dance Like No One's Watching." Because in the mornings I either go for a run or participate in what I like to call Ghetto Just Dance, where I watch YouTube videos of Xbox 360 song clips from Just Dance 3 and play them through my laptop onto our TV. It's far cheaper than buying a Kinect, and I bust just as many moves and break a far cheaper sweat. And whoever uploads these videos are far better dancers than me, so I always get a high score in the end.

Also: it snowed yesterday! In Portland. This is a rare occurrence, and I don't like it. Because it's not really snow, but slushy white muck.

Also: I've been taking some time to draw more.

Also: Courtney? Really?

Name game

Last weekend we went to Portland's numero uno science museum, OMSI, or as Seve calls it, Exploration Station. That's what he calls any science museum he can't remember the name of. Any restaurant he can't remember the name of he'll refer to as Macaroni Palace. All grocery stores are called Uncle Leroy's. Girls are either Penelope or Petunia. But he seems to always be able to remember guy's names. That's just sexist, says me.

Seve will also insert "fart" or "boob" to any entertainment he doesn't like. Last of the Mohicans = Last of the Farthicans, Justin Beiber = Justin Boober. Kim Fartashian. Also, Jersey Snore. Haha.

Simon's first typewriter

Just a kid after my own heart.

All the Pretty Horses

Once on a job application I listed that I was good at telling jokes. The job was to work as an Activities Coordinator at the Jackson Lake Lodge in the Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming. Though I never imagined joke-telling would come up in the interview process, I should have known that being so cheeky on my application would come back to bite me. So when asked to tell my best joke, I suddenly reverted back to my 8 year old self.

Why did the toilet paper roll down the hill?

To get to the bottom.

Luckily, my soon-to-be new boss cracked up and hired me then and there, and I was soon advizing the good guests of Yellowstone's sister park on what were the best day hikes around Jackson Lake and the best BBQ in Jackson (Bubba's, just so you know).

Oh, and above are some photos from a personal art project I'm doing featuring the world's tiniest gang of plastic Mustangs. Here they are galloping across my entry table! I'll be documenting their journey through my home and other such places, so keep your eyes peeled for their antics and watch where you step - they're only just over an inch tall.

Flora Fauna & Merryweather

If you want something bad enough, earn it. Anything worth doing will actually take time and discipline. I wanted to become a derby girl after watching Whip It. I wanted a $300 pair of Reidell skates to accomplish this dream. Instead I bought a $35 pair of Chicagos and told myself to go to the rink once a week until I could skate like mutha futha Van Halen. Needless to say, only one week at the rink and almost two years later, I did not earn those Reidells.

The first major I ever declared in college was photography, but I dropped it after I let the intimidation of my more-talented peers get to me. But I didn't give up photography altogether; Christmas of 2010 I bought myself a camera. I wanted a DSLR, but knew I needed to put in the effort for that price tag. So I bought a cheaper point & shoot with manual features so I could manual myself to the top of my game. One year and thousands of photos later, I earned myself my beloved Nikon, Annie.

I also had to earn Fauna, who made her spring debut a few days ago. The taste of summer draws nigh.

p.s. Yes, Simon is wearing a bibdana.

Nothing's gonna touch you in these golden years

I keep meaning to do a "fashion" post, or "what's in my bag" post, or "we walked around downtown" post, but every time we pull out the camera we only create fodder for "OMG look at Simon!" posts. Sorry about that. Once I get a camera strap and cover to protect my Nikon from all this Oregon rain you'll probably see more "life outside my house" posts. But, until then, OMG look at Simon!

Also, we finally got around to watching Midnight in Paris. Guys, I didn't know it was a magical, time travel film! I thought it was going to be a "now I'm sleeping with this person" kind of a film but NO. It was fabulous. Utterly charming. So good. I wonder what my "golden time" is? Owen may love 1920's Paris but I think I'd like to be part of those golden 1980's, Desperately Seeking Susan Madonna days. Not really, there's nothing golden about that time. Except Madonna's brassy hair.