vintage sheet love

My vintage sheet hoarding collection has been growing like crazy lately. I had limited luck at the La Crosse thrift stores, but yesterday in Madison I hit the jackpot and brought armfuls more home. I'm still deciding what patterns I'm going to use, but I think it's time to start cutting them up!

Today I thought I'd give you a virtual tour of my ever-growing collection. They used to just sit in a pile but now they've all been washed so I've been having way too much fun organizing them.

First up: pillowcases!

Pillowcases are cute; they have all the charm of a giant sheet without the mass. Easy to fold and store, I've found myself enamored.

The vintage sheet patterns I've found tend to be either mostly white with floral accents or a more saturated, colorful print.

These are some of my misfit pillowcases--they're the softest, thinnest pillowcases, almost tissuelike in their delicacy. I plan to use them until they're completely worn out, but they won't be cut up. I found these in a giant bag of mystery textiles I bought at the Viroqua flea market.

flat sheets

My only pair of non-floral vintage sheets so far, both in the same color scheme.

I prefer flat sheets to fitted sheets (easier to fold and store pre-cutting).

fitted sheets

See what I mean? This lump of fitted sheets that I attempted to fold isn't nearly as aesthetically pleasing as my flat sheets, but I'll take 'em any day.

etsy indulgence

A few weeks before I left La Crosse, I bought some precut 6 inch vintage sheet squares off etsy from whimsiedots. Oops.

My old address. Nice try, creepers.

I ordered a pack of yellows and the "flower power" pack. I wasn't disappointed!

So, I've confessed and shown the evidence of my new favorite hobby. I'm enthralled and I've got lovely plans that I cannot yet divulge :)

I will likely use Jeni from In Color Order's tutorial on how to cut up vintage sheets. I'd like to whip up a patchwork for the new apartment this week.

blogging hiatus

Hello all! Needless to say, this blog has been absolutely silent as of late. I've been doing a lot of organizing and planning for the big move to Bloomington. Last Saturday I packed up all my stuff in La Crosse and transported it to Sun Prairie, so I'm home now until the 24th. I have A LOT of photos to share in the coming weeks, and I'm going to get back to my weekly stellar shops and poetry Sunday posts. I just needed a little breather. Extreme busy-ness and the cocktail of excitement, anxiety, and apprehension that a monumental life change brings combined with a feeling of why am I blogging? Is anyone even reading this? I'm spending too much time and receiving crickets...

I'm curious... Who is reading? How did you find me? Do you have a blog? What would you like to see more of here in this space?

I love the interactivity that blogs provide and I'd like to facilitate more of it here. Comments have been a big motivator for me to continue coming up with new material and taking the time to write in this space. I was a longtime creeper on blogs that I love without officially becoming a follower for about a year, so I understand. It can be awkward to announce to a blogger (especially a beginning blogger with only a small amount of followers) hey, I'm here! But I would truly love to know who is reading--even if it's just my lovely "real life" friends :)

So: I owe y'all pictures, anecdotes, documentation. This won't be hard to provide, as my picture-taking hasn't exactly slowed down! I'm jumping back into blogging starting tomorrow.

my 21st birthday

THE 21ST BIRTHDAY POST! Finally. Oy vey, I've been a busy girl: working, reading, socializing, traveling all over the state, planning for the move to Bloomington. And yet, I kept feeling guilty because I hadn't created a post about my 21st. I kind of slipped over it, not knowing how to approach it.

The photos that accumulated over my birthday weekend (July 14-17) were in the hundreds, so plucking a select few for this blog was taxing. Also, I am trying to maintain a somewhat-classy aesthetic here, so the selected photos hopefully retain some level of taste! Ha.

This is Ms. Lexi. I have known Lex since the 6th grade, when I moved to Sun Prairie.  She is impossibly dear to me and I was so pleased to be able to spend my first time at the bars with her!

Maquillage & martinis.

The Library was the third bar I went to in the wee hours of July 15th. Obviously a photo of me standing by the neon green sign was absolutely necessary for a future librarian!

Lots more photos from that night, but as I mentioned before... standards. Also, after awhile, grinning with a new, free alcoholic beverage just starts to look the same, so I'll change it up.

A photo of me about to buy alcohol for the first time the next evening! (A shot sized bottle of UV Cake. Yes, I'm an absolute booze hound, just can't help myself.) Oh, and I'm also purchasing strawberry shortcake ingredients; highly suspect, I know. The police cap is borrowed from Jeff, who was taking the photo--and also holding up the Australia sign in front of me.

Friday night was when I had people coming from out of town to go downtown with me, so the girls glammed up. Katherine, me, Lex, and my old roommate Amy. I adore these girls.

Jeff and I with a fishbowl at Who's On Third?

Much later in the evening: Lex and I posing with a ladies drink free sign. I am really curious as to whether females who benefit from this realize why bars are allowing them to drink free... do they comprehend that it is a ploy to draw men (who will buy drinks) into the bar, hoping to take some drunk chick home with them? It's really eerie to me that this sort of action occurs openly within this drinking culture. It's obviously widespread but as a girl who just got her first taste of the bars it is interesting to ponder.

Ok, so, I love this photo. High-kicking Jeff is going to kill me for posting it, but there's just so much to love: my roommate Dan's supermodel-esque dance poses, Jeff's face and legs that won't even fit in the frame...

Moving on to Saturday night: Cops & Robbers themed party at JohnaLee's house.

I call this look SuperMario meets Reno 911.

JL, divine as always.

Some alluring robbers made it to the party. If you've been reading this blog you'll recognize some familiar faces.

Aaaand Sunday night: Neil finally returned home from his weekend of gigging and we went out to the Popcorn Tavern. The heat wave had commenced and the AC was lovely. He bought me a Spotted Cow and we listened to some music. He then joined in for the second set.

Writing about a four-day span of drinking and socializing is a heady task. These are only snippets; I'm hoping to impart anyone reading with a sense of what my birthday adventures were like via photos. I'd be crazy to attempt to write down every moment. It was certainly a turning point in my summer--because my birthday falls midway through the summer, I knew my time left in La Crosse after my 21st would go quickly. Indeed it has.

Things I learned my birthday weekend:

• I surprised myself with how much I love to dance. I never thought of myself as the dancing type, but I was wild for it. I have a stunning amount of fun on the dance floor. I really loved discovering this about myself, because it makes me feel like less of a stick in the mud. Ever since my birthday weekend I have done a lot of dancing, and I'm usually the last person on the dance floor. 

• Mixed drinks are totally hangover-evasive. I will admit that I have had bad wine drinking experiences in the past, so being completely fine after a full night of significant drinking is really cool. I wasn't hungover at all over the course of the weekend. (I never understood the appeal of getting so drunk that you forget what your night was even like. I think I know myself fairly well be this point. I drink enough water and never go to bed without eating something. Plus I'm sure all that dancing didn't hurt.)

• My criticisms of (some) men and the drinking culture from a feminist perspective are totally warranted. There are varying accounts of what actually happened on Friday night, but one account holds that there was a group of four bro-types (yes I know I rag on them but I have my reasons) following me from bar to bar, waiting to take me home because (as was allegedly told to a male friend of mine who was with my birthday group) "I was cute and it was my 21st so I was going to get really drunk." AKA easy to take advantage of. So they committed to a few hours of stalking lite and followed my group. I do have my reasons for believing it is plausible. If it was true? I did not notice these men following me. Luckily I had a large group with me and I was nowhere near sloppily drunk, but still. Utterly frightening, that this sort of predatory move would be perpetrated by "normal guys." My college peers, no doubt. A little fun, a challenge. After all, what fun are the normal courtship rituals after awhile, right? Let me just ask this: At the end of the night, when they are able to take (let's just say for the sake of this example) me home, my skinny frame stumbling, giggling, no clue what is going on, one of them with their arm around me cupping my ass because I don't even notice in my inebriated state, what then? Who gets to claim the prize? One of them, maybe one who is owed a favor by the other three? Or all four, taking turns? How are the sexual assault victims claimed, the spoils of a hard night's stalking divvied up? What is the protocol that these men follow? -----Maybe four men didn't follow me that night. I have no way of knowing for sure, not anymore. I'm not too fixated on it; it just further reinforces that women need to be careful at all times, especially with alcohol involved. Because even if it didn't happen, it easily could have. It's the kind of thing that weighs heavily on me because I know: I will never be able to not worry. 

I am terrified of having daughters. That's all I will say. But I'm not paralyzed by this disgust and concern--beyond that, I had a lovely birthday weekend. Truly everything I could have hoped it would be. I got to spend time with a creative, bright bunch of people whom I will miss too much in about three short weeks. I will be in another state so soon! It is tough to imagine.

birthday picnic

Because Neil was gigging and out of town for my 21st birthday weekend, he took me on a picnic to celebrate a week later. I love picnics and daytrips and escaping the well-worn pathways I tread through the community --home to work, work to home, home to riverside park, repeat--and going somewhere a bit more out of the ordinary. We packed some food and headed south toward Stoddard after I got done with work about a week ago, stopping at an overlook nestled up against the Mississippi.

Shown above is Betty, Neil's trusty Buick. When I first met Neil, almost five years ago now, I remember thinking, That is the ugliest car I have ever seen, as he pulled into my driveway to pick me up. I've since gained more appreciation for Betty, but I'll never forget my initial repulsion. I'm sorry, Betty.

Neil brought along this scratchy faded-sage blanket for us to sit on. It's functional, sure, but cute? Could it be called cute in any universe? Yes, I'm a snob. I love textiles and I recently bought not one but two functional and cute outdoor blankets, so, eh, I gave him a bit of trouble, asking why he didn't bring my aesthetically pleasing blankets. His response?

"Oops. Well, just take a picture of this one and complain about it on your blog." Said with a slight smile, he knows what will appease me. This cute boy is completely resigned to his fate, I'll tell ya that.

Presents! I was so happy to receive a reusable water bottle because I'm ashamed to say I've been using and refilling disposable water bottles for too long now. I do own a reusable water bottle but have always found it too challenging to wash, so I've avoided using it. Neil has often heard me lamenting the issues I find with all sorts of water bottles we come across, so I'm delighted to say that I love this new gift! Though I'm still searching for my Goo be Gone to get that sticker residue off.

Quote that made me love him more than ever? "What could be more Bri-ish? Removable pads?"

My next present, wrapped artfully in a plastic bag.What could it be?

  



















A cute message from Neil was included with each of my presents. Prior to my birthday I told Neil: "I don't need you to buy me anything; in fact, don't. Save money. All I want is a letter. Or maybe, a lot of letters." At this he saw my eyes light up as he simultaneously shrank back, concerned at the amount of emotional output he would have to expel to satisfy my never-ceasing appetite for the written word. I'm an old-fashioned girl at heart--Facebook wall posts don't exactly do it for me. And while I bug him for letters year-round, one time he definitely can't shirk my request is on my birthday. *Evil cackle*

 Vase from the UW-L ceramics sale!

*A brief note regarding Neil's notes: So, if you don't know Neil you are probably reading the notes he wrote to me and thinking, What is wrong with this guy? Is he educated? Why is he spelling some words weirdly? Eez? Leef? Huh?

Neil is actually a very smart fellow. He scored high honors upon our college graduation while I earned only honors, something I occasionally grumble about. He can make your head spin with his knowledge of religious philosophy and he was accepted to one of the top graduate-level music programs in the country with a scholarship. He is a catch. But to escape the clamor of his intellect, he reverts to a silly, sly self. I noticed years ago that his obsession with capuchin monkeys was growing, and so when he'd run around acting crazy and boyish I christened this new persona Monkey Neil. He loves his nickname (I still refer to him as MN) and proudly reverts to monkeyish behavior at moments. It's quite cute, though I noted about a year ago that all of the letters that I had taken such care to guilt out of him were filled with monkey spelling and grammar, AKA eef, eez, leef, monkeh, etc... I realized that if I didn't reign in the monkeyness, the only non-electronic written record of our relationship would be monkeyfied. Monkey spelling will be hard to explain to my biographers when I'm dead, so I now urge him to keep the monkey outpourings to a minimum with letters.

There you have it! A brief history of Monkey Neil. I know it probably sounds really bizarre.

MN also gave me a Symphony bar (my favorite!) but it was melty. Hence his face.

As you can see, everything was a bit... dewy, lending to the ghoulish appearance I'm sporting. Neil told me to shut my eyes and he handed me this, not letting me open them up til he took a picture.

Recognize this fine feline? It's Monsieur the cat! Told you Neil was obsessed. Cat adoration is not something I have to force on him, unlike much of the rest of our shared life.

  

My last present that I didn't get until last weekend? Two of these beautiful library mugs. I already packed them away, though, as I don't trust anyone in our dirty boy house not to break them :)

Neil rested, post-food.

The dreaded mayflies were out and about as we walked to the car to do a bit more exploring.

About a minute past the overlook we'd picnicked at, we found the area that I'd visited with my grandpa on the way back from the Prairie du Chien flea market last month.You know, the area he designed and everything... no big deal...

Everything was so verdant that it almost looked unreal. We explored in the muggy heat, trampling around the deserted and slightly overgrown paths, pausing for photographs, never sure if the photos we snapped were good or not. You never know until later, but I think we got some good shots.

Doesn't it look like the greenery is engulfing me? That's how it felt to be in the thick of it, too.

As you can see, the monkey/12 year old boy is emerging here.

After uploading the pictures from that day, I also came across a significant amount of shots where my facial expressions were, uh, strikingly similar. The raw, no-holds-barred annoyance I was aiming at my bumbling boyfriend was perfectly preserved.

Please note that these photos were taken about 30 minutes apart from each other. Also note that there were more, but I was afraid people would think I was truly evil if I posted the whole series of them :)

The reason for my perturbed state is that my MN is stunningly similar to my mother in that once he holds a camera in his clutches he waits and waits and waits to snap a picture, like maybe the perfect moment will come after making the subject self-conscious and irritated. In contrast, I snap away, hoping to get lucky with some candids in addition to planning out the ideal moment to snap a picture. With digital cameras, why wait? I expect that 1/6 of the photos taken will be kept, the rest deleted, so I try to train Neil to snap away. These photos were taken when I was waiting, saying, What are you doing?! I'm sure. Or expressing some equally high maintenance sentiment. The crazy is particularly tangible in the second photo, I'd say. Alas, if only it could've captured the nose flare.

What a good boyfriend, taking the abuse, hoisting my bag around.

The end of our exploration, humidity hair having gotten the best of me, but you cannot beat that view.  Oh driftless region, oh, you've made me feel like a Wisconsinite. Finally.

And thus concludes a spectacular day trip facilitated by my charmingly silly and thoughtful boyfriend. We both bring our own brand of insane to the table, but I think we do a good job of tolerating each other, propping each other up, and growing up together. Relationships are messy and challenging and lonely sometimes, but this boy gets me, he really does.