future dogs

Hi, I love dogs. I always have. I’m not sure why.

OH WAIT NO, I TOTALLY DO KNOW WHY.

It’s because they are hilarious.

Stupid.

Silly.

Cool.

And by personality, they typically love you.

I have spent most of my childhood and adult life daydreaming about the dogs I am going to own and what I am going to name them. Now, I know, I know, once you are presented with a living, breathing animal, names and intentions and personalities tend to throw all expectations out the window. But seriously, a girl can dream, right?


(photo by Chris Mallon)

If I ever bring home a Great Pyrenees, I’m naming him Aslan.
Or, possibly, a variation of ‘Tiny’.


(photo by boushh2187)

If I ever bring home some Mastiffs, I’m naming them Romeo and Juliet, because why not and also LOOK AT THOSE FACES OMG.


(photo by 5of7)

If I ever bring home a Great Dane, he’s being named Ferdinand (as in Ferdinand the Bull).

My list of dogs and names can go on and on and on and on, but the most important one to me, is my future pal:


(photo by Rayya the Vet)

Y’all, I really love Bull Terriers. I love their cocked ears and giant noses and silly eyes. I dearly await one day having a white-furred bully buddy of my own. My favorite name for a bull terrier is probably Gus-Gus. So cute! We would go on walks and he’d dig in the dirt and I’d constantly have to pull white hairs off of all of my black clothes, but man, someday, I will, and it will be great.

Rampant Consumerism

Remember my “Stuff I want to buy” post ?

Well, this is a related post. This is ME reminding MYSELF that even though I FEEL LIKE I have been good and not gone impulse shopping and spent a ton of money on silly things that I want… that I have still gone shopping, albeit restrained shopping.

Things I have bought in the five weeks:

  • A fantastic pair of fake rough crystal (?) earrings
  • This beautiful kitschy purple cow creamer. She vaguely reminds me of the cookie jar my Grandma Mary had when I was growing up.
  • Walt Disney’s Robin Hood on DVD/ Blu Ray. Disney’s Robin Hood happens to be my sister and I’s favorite childhood movie. It is probably the most worn-out of our collection of Disney VHS’s. (Followed closely by Bedknobs & Broomsticks!)
  • Some antique dishes!

    One of my dreams/desires for when I have my own, tiny, dishwasher-less studio, is to use stacks of mis-matching and beautiful china instead of a standard collection of plates. I picked up three of such plates this weekend and they are all beautiful! I love looking at racks of china, though I don’t have much use for fancy sets just yet.
  • A little tigerseye tiger

    (This is not the tiger I bought, I’ve had this chubby guy for awhile now.)
    I found another stone tiger last week! My zodiac sign is the tiger, and tigers are also my favorite animal, so double-whammy on the awesomeness scale, right? (Although honestly I do not have many non-favorite animals….) I have a small collection of wee stone tigers (now three) and I love all of them in their teeny tiny goodness. He measures about 2 inches long and has a great little stone face! I haven’t bought a new tiger in ages and he fits in my slightly-Japan-themed corner of my room quite nicely.
  • A lovely teal coffee table

    You can barely see it under all the stuff piled on it! But it is TEAL and it was $14, and it fit in the back of Jessica’s car.
    This table is perfect! It is a style I continually admire (a rectangular coffee table with a smaller, raised rectangle on one side) and it is the in-color right now. It almost matches my teal bookshelves and really matches my sense of style. I put a gold deer and a coaster on it, and it fits perfectly in the nook beside my bed.
  • A new gray sweater. I found it at Goodwill for $2.49 and it is hella cute! Aww yeah, bargains!
  • At least 10 milkshakes The only thing I have wanted lately is milkshakes.
    Milkshakes! Peanut butter or chocolate or pineapple or raspberry. This is the summer of the milkshake. Hopefully this unhealthy craving diminishes soon or I’m going to have to increase my “bigger pants” budget.

In conclusion, SHUT UP, PART OF ME THAT FEELS LIKE SHE DOESN’T GET TO BUY STUFF.
Buying stuff isn’t all that there is. And you do enough of that already!

things that make me happy

I now have a Twilight Sparkle on my desk at work.

Yeah, I’m kind of a brony. And by kind-of, I mean, I adore the show. It’s cute, it’s fun, it’s quick and entertaining. I love all of the characters and most of the episodes. My roommates and I collect the blind-box My Little Pony figurines and it’s becoming a serious problem. This is the first repeat I’ve gotten since December (we normally trade our repeats so everyone has an even collection) and she’s perfect for manning my desk when I’m not around.

I made a pinata.

I MADE THAT! If you’re not from Portland, or don’t know, it’s modeled after a quintessential Portland landmark:

While it’s not exact, the pinata turned out better than I expected, and was a huge hit at the surprise party I helped throw last weekend.
The hardest part was probably cutting the thick, heavy-duty cardboard into the shape of my state.

I’m going to have to make a smaller one, just for myself. I love Portland paraphernalia, and I love stags and pinatas.
It’s a perfect mix of some of my favorite things!
It’s also an excuse to cut more letters out of that fantastic gold paper. I don’t even mind getting covered in glitter because of it!

Frumples has a twitter account.

We’ve discussed Frumples, the dog who hates me, in the past. And I’m pleased to announce that my roommates and I are serious crazy people and also love his little hateful heart so much we made him a twitter.

Follow at your own doggy, hate-inducing risk.

brittneighblackback

backpost: on heirlooms

This was originally posted on August 7, 2010 at lemonlove.forgedpixels.com. Moved here to save in case of losing that domain.

My family is somewhat unusual.

I say that of course, realizing that it is completely usual in it’s unusual-ness. My family is really not that strange and confusing, and just like everyone else’s family, it is filled with random members that collect hurricane shelters full of tinned yams and horde wood for y2k. It also has (just like everyone else) a quartet of organ-players, a banjo-soloist, a tarzan impersonator, a unicyclist, a zebra collector, a fraud specialist, and some Australians.

The thing about my family is that we really don’t have that many heirlooms. Some people have heirlooms up the yin-yang! Some people have hutches and desks and cabinetry built by their great-great-grandfer on the prairies of Oregon and hand-crocheted cat-ear cozies crafted crazily for a crotchety kitten who crankily crammed their cute meta-carpals into his craw.

It’s not like I’m jealous.

But my family is severely lacking in heirlooms. We haven’t been close to my paternal Grandparents in my lifetime. My maternal Grandmother began suffering from Altzheimer’s when I was about seven, so even my memories of her are tainted with memory loss, both of hers and my own.

I was twelve when she died, and not old enough to understand the desire to preserve trinkets and memories. I am left with photographs of her as my heirlooms. I love them! Seeing her as a young woman makes me feel like maybe I did know her, in a somewhat metaphorical way.

My Grandpa remarried a few years later, to an old friend of the family he reconnected with at my Grandmother’s death. I never identified with her, but now I wish I had tried harder to get to know her. She passed away this spring, and we have been slowly helping Grandpa weed through her possessions and send them off to her relations.

The entire time they were married, she had a collection hanging on her wall.

A collection of spoons.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. In fact, I thought the same thing when I first saw them. “Oh my gosh. SPOONS. How typically old-lady! What a silly thing to collect. I mean, SPOONS.”

If I knew how to triple-underscore and draw skulls and cross-bones around a word like I would in the notes I’d pass around school in the 7th grade in HTML, I would do so. That would fully-articulate the true disdain and hatred I felt whenever I saw them hanging on the dining-room wall.

Spoons.

I hated them. And honestly, as a 16 year old whose Grandpa re-married to a woman who had never had children of her own, no-less, I found that woman and her spoons to be-less-than-fantastic.

When she died earlier this spring, and Grandpa started sorting out through the last of her possessions, I knew the spoons would end up at a thriftstore.

When I visited his house, Grandpa would trot out many items of hers and offer them to me. I turned most of them down. He finally offered me her collector’s spoons.

They stared at me. Silver and tarnished, covered in plastic, embossed and emblazoned with words and names of places. I realized that she had travelled the world with her spoons, and had no one to look after them.

I hadn’t recieved anything from my grandmother, so it’s not like I had an issue with competing storage space. And the spoons… the spoons with their windmills and tarnished silver camels and necks covered in wildflowers… they were kinda cool.

In fact, oh hey! That one has a windmill that spins! And a cuckoo-clock that dangles! Oh wow, yeah I forgot she was a missionary in Bolivia… and she even went to Vatican City!

I suddenly was overwhelmed with this strange and fulfilling need to keep her heirlooms, as a substitute for my own. As a collector and a person who finds happiness in collecting things, the concept of leaving behind my favourite items without someone to value them too is pretty heartbreaking.

So I agreed to take the spoons, to everyone on the planet’s shock and awe.

And I love them.

The collection is rather large (to me!). I think I am now the proud owner of 30+ spoons from various places around the world. These are just my favourites to share right now.

I love seeing all the places she has been, and have even… started collecting a few of my own.

Here and there, you know, to commemorate big trips. Not anything… excessive.

They are spoons, after all.