Tuesday, July 29, 2008


The following is from the Let's Drink (there was an entirely unrelated almost natural disaster) email chain:

Wee: ...'ll try him when I get myself a phone that fu*king works.

Dixie: Franks!

Hench Girl: LET'S GO DRINKING!!!!!!!!!! Natural disasters lead me to drink, what can I say?

WBH(wnm): D & I are good but the cat's started bouncing off the walls like a pinball machine played by Dolly Partons breasts which makes me want to have more earthquakes.

Damnit: Everything is cool here. My toothpaste fell over though. The song playing on my iTunes shuffle right now is "you shook me all night long" AC/DC :)

Oh babies! My love for you all is seismic.


A drill for the BIG ONE.

LA had a good sized shaker this morning. It was a nice rolling motion that knocked out all the phones and lasted nearly a minute. I am going to call it a free foot massage and continue on with my day. Thanks all my lovelies for your texts and emails!!

xoxo, wee


need this. now.

* good design is always good for the environment! go yanko!

Monday, July 28, 2008



I have pondered this ad for a week or 2 now. In my brain I know that they must be saying NUT SNACK, but then again, the darn things come in bags so...maybe? Either way, people this is just wrong!

And very funny.

I googled the term (yes I googled "NUT SACK") to see if I was imagining this whole phenomenon, and (thankfully!) I am not. Other bloggers are all a-giggle over this, just like me. I have to say that even though I have just written that NUT SACK would be wrong, it would also be wickedly clever. I might even buy those nuts, and I don't like nuts.

* Update - I saw the ad again while writing this post and wouldn't you know, they have changed their tag line to something like, great natural snack. Not funny.


* pacific ocean, malibu beach CA


I was hesitant. I was leery. But hello, who can resist that wonderful aroma after many, many beers? I broke down and got mustard on my face. I was in heaven.




we were here


all dive bars should have a Chinese theme!

* The Drawing Room


Friday in the city was hot enough to melt the flesh off the devil. Even the pigeons were too miserable to fly. It was time to find a happy hour!

* found at cuba libre, perfect mojitos.


I vote to burn all second home wicker furniture in a giant garden bonfire. I will graciously provide interior design services to all who partake. Thank-you.

hoo-who doesn't love this lamp? comes in a snail too!

dingle ball dish towel - LOVE!

I know I hate birds, but I am down with the screen printed kind

* from anthropologie!


wee love birdies!

perfect for summer birthdays!

* thanks tastespotting!

Sunday, July 27, 2008


The Princess of Shortness took her index finger and absently rubbed the spot where the ocean had picked off a corner of her big toe nail. This Princess (of Shortness) is not a real Princess, but for the purpose of this story she is as much a real Princess as any Sara or Ann, or (of) Tallness. For all heroines should be Princesses shouldn't they? Just as all her suitors ought to be Prince Charmings, be they flowers, tigers or tube socks. But back to the toe.

She could not recall the moment that the ocean had taken it's talisman from her. It had not hurt. In fact she had only noticed here in the tub (our Princess is having a bath - but not a typical bath for her. Tonight the water is barely warm and usually she only soaks in freshly boiled tea - minus the bag.) and she is neither amused or vexed. Point of fact, she is actually barely aware of the jagged edge, having her royal mind drifting like the foam on top of the waves.

She ran the bath to wash the salt and dried slick off of her legs and scalp. The lukewarm water did its job. As the Princess lounged with her book (that she is reading, not writing) she found herself at odds with the water. Or maybe it was the tub. She would lie on her back and then roll first to one side, then the other. Hip or elbow poking out of the bubbles. For a time she wedged one foot between the knobs that read HOT and COLD, while the other lay from knee to ankle on the rim of the porcelain. Like a goldfish in a bowl that is too small, she thought. My feet are my fins, flopped out in the air, testing it. Maybe it is more comfortable than the water? And I am uncomfortable. (Princesses do not like being uncomfortable. They are unaccustomed to it.) It did not work. For a short time (made all the shorter by the fact that she is the Princess of Shortness) she read and forgot about her fins, but after 5 words she was back to readjusting them.

Finally she gave up (or in, depending on your perspective) and pulled the plug on all that warmish water. Which is when she discovered the missing piece of toe nail. She could not muster even so much as a, drat, in response. As the bubbleless water swirled away she used a yellow plastic cup to pour fresh water on her head. (This water too, was only warm.) Is this my grown up rubber ducky? Whatever sound the water may have made as it wound down her hair was lost to the ruckus of the faucet. How is it that in movies, bubble baths always look so glorious? Fluffy. Like a vats of meringue. Is there some secret bubble solution for movies only, because it is made of a terrible chemical that eats off one's skin? So the movie stars are first covered completely in super strength vasoline (which we cannot see since they are of course, in the bath)? This industrial level bubble bath must be made in the same lab as the necular bomb, for it is just as effective. Only not at world domination. Unless you believe Hollywood is the next Super Power. Which it may in fact be.

All of this is what casued the Princess to forget about her toe and let her mind wander like Jesus on the waves.


I couldn't resist that title. This week I had occasion to talk about a) this song and b) that time I met Coolio. Whatever happened to him?

I met the man one night on the steps of my friends cheap ghetto apartment when we were all in college. High times.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008


via txt (last week): Jess, just checked your blog. The pictures of you at the bowl / the girls were epic. Love S

via camera phone/email from Hench Girl (today):

this is epic.

* that's Dixie in the other corner!!


I don't know who this reminds me more of, Dixie or the World's Best Husband - Who Isn't Mine. Luv you guys!

* c/o the rut.


This works!

* if it doesn't, blame Steph and her "fake" bumper sticker.


Do you know who I am (if I was a typeface)?

Here is my description:- Neo-Grotesque Sans Serif, that can find a style for every occasion!!

* HINTS: I was born in 1957. I am brothers with Neue House Grotesk (who goes by a way less cool moniker now) and Folio. Our Dad is the Mack Daddy of all Swiss typefaces.


This has me laughing all the way to the bank. Strangely, Comic Sans looks a bit like an ex-boyfriend I once had. Thank-you CollegeHumor.com, thank-you.

watch me!

Tuesday, July 22, 2008


A huge thank you to all my peeps! I completely forgot what today was!! Does that mean I am all fixed? Babies, when I am stupid rich I am hosting the biggest damn party, for like a year and it will be all purple haze and someone for everybody to love!!!

xoxo, wee


No, not in that kind of way. But in a very real and casual atmosphere (read: a friend's house with Indian take-out and a 1.5 year old) I was introduced to; dooce.com (where in the hell have I been?), was encouraged to go after my newly minted dream of living as an ex-pat and the wii. I am all kinds of late. What can I say - me scardy cat. Which is odd, since I was not always this way. Or maybe I was and at some point I was just so fed up, that I broke.

In high school I was the requsite crabby teenager who had dreams of being a fashion designer/photographer cum archeologist. The one thing I was sure of, is that I would get the hell out of Northern California. I came south and spent a year drunk and bored, while I maintained a 3.5+ GPA and my virginity (that last one is neither here or there but someday I want proof for my daughter that you do not have to give it up. And no Ed H. your, "it's fun - like sex in high school" argument still doesn't hold water). Throwing all my proverbial eggs in the basket, I switched schools without an acceptance letter or a back-up plan.

100,000 dollars and a few years later, I am plenty educated and have a career as a designer (totally gave fashion the heave-ho and went all graphic). I drive my hot red dream car, have a killer apartment at the beach and a body that fits in a bikini. It's time to put all those future hatchlings back in the basket, and I am pissing myself about it. I got royally bitch slapped by the Universe, in the hopes that I would figure it the fuck out.

The answer is swiming in the water with me - I just suck at spear fishing. I guess I am afraid to stab my toes or something. Hot damn that is a lame excuse. Here is what I have figured out: I have worked really hard for the things I have and I don't want to loose them. I also don't want to hold on so tight that what I have now (at 29) is all I ever get (dies a thousand melodramatic deaths in head). So Universe, the deal I am making is this: Better things and you can have my hot car and my life in LA.

Sounds fair.

* ps - the members of our dinner party last night included: a former peace corp member, who is now a Marine, who just finished law school, is about to take the bar and has lived in like a bazillion countries! and is going to be a JAG once he passes. which he will, because with that kind of fearless track record, how could he not? the hostess- a new mom who is whip smart, super connected, went to standford for grad school and can css the shit out of anything (she is also beautiful and lovely and makes homemade caramel sauce to make up for the fact that she ordered take-out), her equally uber smarty brother who just quit google and is taking his own esoteric journey and her husband who teaches as a gaming professor at USC and rules at bath time with the baby -- talk about in-spi-ra-tion!!!!

Monday, July 21, 2008


yogi in training -- note the foot action!




ski jump!

he's good!


* c/o notcot


what's in the box?

a seriously pissed off sparrow.

So I was supposed to help a good friend celebrate her Birthday with a sweet BBQ. Instead I wrestled a fledgling bird from the mouth of my sometimes cat. It was awesome. Oy.

Sunday, July 20, 2008



we were mooned right after this!!

* best stretch of beach in Malibu!