In case you were wondering (and I know you were, right?), I spent the last week in Hawaii attending the funeral of my beloved grandfather.

Harold Buddy O’Connor survived torpedoes at Pearl Harbor, brawling sailors in Turkey, and long car trips with two annoying grandchildren. He built a house, a Model A, a sexy seventies sports car, fine furniture, and ornately gilded frames. Plus he could draw and photograph like nobody’s business. They don’t make people like they used to, and a 21 gun salute and formal flag ceremony provided a fitting end to his big life. I’m sure he would have approved.

I would love to shower you with fantasticness this morning, but I’m still getting over a nasty case of jet lag, so I’m going to save my hot diggity dog post for Wednesday… you best tune in because you do not want to miss my epic tour of $20,000 dining tables and $50,000 sofas.

And finally, I have to give a huge THANK YOU to the fabulous Naomi of Thirteen and South and the lovely Alison of Life In the Semi-Fab Lane for guest posting while I was away. They did such a good job that you probably didn’t even notice I was gone.

Ok, time to sleep. See you Wednesday!

Still no credenza in sight for the technocordy crapfest that’s hanging out in our living room. I thought I had a contender, but the seller turned out to be a flake. Douche. The upside is that I have found a few entertaining tidbits on craigslist, and I’m posting my favorite today:

Vintage Upholstered “Cat” Chair

And I quote: “More a decorative piece than utilitarian. Covered in red velveteen with pleated skirt and faux furry cat on back. This chair wobbles a bit; should be glued. Sold as is.”

You know, if they throw in those curtains, I will call Bonanza on this “cat”ch.

Happy Friday!

Do you remember how, when you were a kid, your birthday was THE MOST MAGICAL DAY, EVER!!!!!!!!? The celebration of the day you were born was powerful enough to stop the rotation of the earth and make ice cream cakes fall from the sky. It wasn’t just about the presents, either (although they were awesome). It was about some cosmic marker of time — a critical acknowledgment of the evolution of self. Dude, why be 9 when you could be 10? Sadly, the day after your birthday just became the 364th day until your next birthday, but that’s part of what made The Big Day so special. Magic can’t happen everyday, but when it does…

I’m not a kid anymore, but I’m going to work on being this excited about my birthday again. See you guys Wednesday!

I’m looking at houses, mayne, that’s what I’m doin. We need another bedroom, and we desperately want better schools and quieter streets because we’re old like that. I must have eyeballed hundreds online already, and negged dozens in person, but today we may have found a contender.

Maybe.

It’s over our budget and it’s not perfect, but it’s in a fab neighborhood with excellent schools — which is saying something because Austin schools are not so great. Sorry, but it had to be said. Or typed, as the case may be.

I’d show you a pic of the exterior, but frankly you can’t even really see it. Because it’s built into a hill, and it lies at the bottom of the driveway of death. Sounds great already, right? Yes, but did I mention the views, the miles of wraparound decking, the acre lot, and the seriously amazing neighborhood?

And the WINDOWS. Tons and tons of windows. I’d like to show you more interior shots, but I’ve had my daily fill of microfiber.

Ok, just this one more. Because that window is so cute. And did you see the beams and the real oak floors, the floors that are not stained a hideous shade of red? Also, can I say that the fireplace — while awesome and copper and very unique — must go. It’s, like, 30 shades of too big.

Oh yeah, and there’s carpet in all the bedrooms. At least it’s brand new.

Also, there is a weird midgetty loft to the side of the dining room that I can’t show you because there are no pictures. And the cabinets are not the bizness — nothing a little paint and contact paper can’t cover for the time being, but not long term worthy, either.

If it sounds like I’m trash talking the place, well I probably am. I’m skeered. We aren’t rich, but we aren’t used to carrying much debt, either. We live modestly, and this — this is not a modest house. This house will make us poor. But it will also make us all upwardly mobile and shit. Poor rich people. And that seems like a lonely place.

Do you think there are coyotes that eat rich people out there? I bet they might even settle for middle class meat.

As per your excellent suggestions, I have been feverishly scouring Craigslist for a credenza with sliding doors that will hide our fugly electronics. Last week, I found an insanely underpriced six foot long teak masterpiece that was practically located in my backyard (which matters because I am way too lazy to drive across town for even the bombest piece), but when I called it was gone. HELLFIRE. I am still obsessing about that stupid credenza, so note to CL sellers: delete your ads once items are sold, otherwise you are just a flagrant tease. Anyhoo, I thought I might toss a few goodies your way that I’ve noticed while searching for my own treasure. Hopefully there is something in here that will make you pee your pants with joy.

Let me tell you what makes me feel a lil leaky: Jack Lenor Larsen. I really love his vintage psychedelic prints, but you can be sure that the understated cobalt velvet upholstery on these fly chairs is still P.I.M.P. Buy them before a dealer (or I) get to them first. They’re even close to my house… $150.

It’s vintage 60s, it has a wooden frame (mahogany, according to the ad, but I doubt that is actually the case), and the upholstery is stupid good. Could it be a reupholstered Lafer on rosewood? Or is that the og fabric on walnut? Inquiring minds want to know. Buy it and tell me all about it. $300.

Vintage Wassily chairs “purchased decades ago at a Scandinavian store.” $225 is not a bad price, but they have been reposted several times. Lowball these suckers.

Four shell chairs with Herman Miller bases, if you’re into that kind of thing. $250 here.

Vintage chrome, lucite, and smoked glass, dinette. Change that upholstery, stat, and you’ve got yourself a winner. It’s taking all my energy not to buy the set just for the chairs. $150 here.

80’s black lacquer and brass bedroom set, made by Lane so it should be real wood under the lacquer. Comes with a six drawer dresser, vanity, corner unit, nightstand, and a full/queen headboard… All for $95. Say what??? That price is dumb. Snatch these puppies up for your disco shag coke pad.

Ok, this gem comes courtesy of a person that Karly and I can only refer to as troll lady — I would recognize that filthy gravel trap of a yard anywhere. Friends, I shall never deal with the troll again (even though I see her EVERYWHERE around town, even at our very own garage sale), but if you do deal with her, don’t take her meandering directions to her house in BFE for the gospel truth, and make sure you spray yourself for mosquitoes and chiggers. Also, I hope you like dogs and cats and chickens and geese and other wild animals. Motherbleeping chupacabra probably lives out there. It is a really cool coffee table, though — reverse painted glass on iron, and a very nice size. $125. Check it out here, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Yep, it’s that table. You know… THAT table. $99, which is half of what reasonable vintage dealers around town are currently charging. Offer less, because for some reason this gal has been up for a while. Buy it here.

Chintz is back, beeyotch! Even better when paired with woven rope end pieces. Such nice colors. This dude is a nice dealer, and he delivers. $300 here.

$50 for a two tiered, shapely glass and brass table that will go anywhere. Get it.

Is it wrong that I really like the cushion fabric? $35 here.

This fabric, however, is downright bilious. Someone PLEASE rescue these adorable Thonet cafe chairs (so hard to find with arms!) and rip that vile fringe off and burn it. $55 here, and consider your purchase to be a mission of mercy.

That’s it for today’s goodies — get them while they’re hot. I think I’d like to end with a little checklist for buying stuff n things off Craigslist:

DO:

Don’t jack around — leave your name, number, and email address, when responding to ads.

Follow up IMMEDIATELY, like within 2.2 seconds, if the seller responds.

Offer less than the listed price. Always. Well… almost always. Don’t be an asshat.

Go look at this crap before you buy it.

Have a plan of action to pick up said crap. This may require requesting dimensions beforehand. Duh (and that is really a “duh” to myself).

DO NOT:

Offer less than the listed price in your email to the seller. Do your dickering in person.

Respond to the seller’s ad with vague inquiries and possibilities. Save that fun for later.

Give anyone your address unless you’re sure they will follow through on delivery. And that the sellers aren’t psycho killers.

Buy anything from the troll lady. Ha! Just kidding… that’s totally up to you. Sucker.

Practice safe craigslisting and see you dudes Friday!

Dear AT&T,

I have been spending the last several months awaiting the expiration of my cell phone contract with my current carrier.  My plan was to leave behind the company I have been loyal to for 8 years and convert to AT&T while picking up a snazzy new iPhone.  Plan:  Aborted.

From At&T’s “Blanket” Commercial, released May, 2010

After the release of your “blanket” commercial last may, which blatantly rips off the artists Christo & Jeanne Claude, I wouldn’t consider giving you a dollar of my money, let alone entering into a long-term contract with your company.

Christo & Jeanne Claude: The Gates, Central Park, New York City, 1979 – 2005

While I find your feeble attempt at appearing artsy nauseating, the fact that you’ve chosen to mimic the artists both in concept and in style is nothing short of astounding.  Did you really have to use Christo & Jeanne Claude’s signature shade of orange?

Christo & Jeanne Claude: Pont Neuf Wrapped, 1975 – 1985

The image you attempt to project:  that we are at the dawn of a new day, that we will all be embraced by at&t’s loving glow and will all be connected is instantly negated by your plagiarism.  This is not a new day:  the artists’ first wrapped monuments in 1968.  As for your loving embrace?  Well, it’s difficult for me to believe a thief when he tells me he’s compassionate.

Christo & Jeanne Claude: Valley Curtain, Rifle, Colorado, 1970-72

I’m not sure why you think that airing a CGI, 60-second spot that steals the life work of a well-known &  beloved pair of artists will help you sell cell phone contracts.  Or how you sleep at night.  But I’ll go ahead and tell you, this:

does not absolve you.  Furthermore,

Christo & Jeanne Claude: Wrapped Trees, Riehen, Switzerland, 1997 – 98

no crappy ad agency-created commercial will ever, EVER, look as stunning as the real thing.

PS.  Dear Apple, I got a droid.

Dear sweet baby Ike,

I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since your tiny baby body finally made a break for it. For nine (actually 10) long months, you slept and grew… and grew. And GREW. I was more than a little afraid I might be carrying a baby elephant.

But out you came — just an average sized baby human. And of course you came at 3 am, because you really know how to make an entrance. As the nurses cooed over your eyelashes and wee baby face, I laid there dumbfounded.

Stage One of The Plan was over, and Stage Two was ready for implementation. Uh, what exactly did Stage Two entail again…?

Turns out stage two was a hallucinatory exercise in sleep deprivation. The first month was one long run on sentence of baby eatsleeppoop, oh — and let’s not forget a fumbling midnight trip to the emergency room on Day 5. Good times!

But you know what? I wouldn’t trade that experience for all the sleep in the word. At the end of an epic, year long journey fraught with many twists and turns, I can tiredly but proudly proclaim that you are mine.

If I’m honest with myself, I know that you’re only mine for a little while longer, because I am already beginning to understand the magical, mystical phenomenon that is parental time dilation: if there are two people and only one is a parent, at the end of 18 years the parent will have aged 100 years, but feel like only seconds have passed. Oh, and the non parent will still be young, carefree, and have good skin with no under eye bags, but that is a different story.

I know that someday soon — sooner than I can possibly comprehend — you’ll be a grown man. Hopefully you won’t live at our house anymore, and even though I might psycho dial you (just “checking in!”) I’ll be happy that you are an independent human, capable of living your own life.

Like any parent, I have my own dreams for your future, but I also recognize that it’s your future, not mine. So I’ll back off on the specifics, but could I maybe just mention that you seem to enjoy (torturing) cats. A lot. So, I’m thinking vet, perhaps?

Sorry. You know I couldn’t help myself.

Ok, just be happy. And know that I love you and your little gigglesnorts more than these feeble words could express –

Mama

Despite the fact that I haven’t had anything to drink in 26 weeks (but who’s counting?) I woke up today (the 5th of July) feeling hopelessly hung over.  All that independence celebrating (sitting in the shade by a pool) has me plum tuckered out and all I want to do is:

Stop back by tomorrow (the 7th) where we will be

and saying happy birthday to Ike (he’s turning one) and my mom (she’s turning a little older than one)

Da Vinci Alarm clock by Marc Owens

I want a new rug

One that won’t make me sick

One that won’t make me spend so hard

I think a Persian might do the trick

I want a new rug

One I hope won’t shed

One that really catches the eye

One that just might be red

One that won’t make me nervous

Wondering what to do

One that makes me feel like it’s a great value

Like it’s a great value

I want a new rug

One that won’t pill

One that won’t cost too much

Or increase the bills

One that won’t make me nervous

Wondering what to do

One that makes me feel like it’s a great value

Like it’s a great value

I want a new rug

One that won’t go away

One that won’t make Ben put up a fight

When I say that it’s got to stay

One that won’t make me nervous

Wondering what to do

One that makes me feel like it’s a great value

Like it’s a great value

I want a new rug

One that does what it should

One that doesn’t make me feel too bad

One that does makes me feel oh so good

I want a new rug

One with no doubt

One that won’t cost a lot

Or make the bank freak out

One that won’t make me nervous

Wondering what to do

One that makes me feel like it’s a great value

Like it’s a great value

Like it’s a great value

Oh yeah, great value

Like sands through the hourglass, bitches! It wasn’t easy, but I have finally finally finally taken some new pictures of my house so you can watch the drama unfold. Now, this is primarily a tale of conflicting couches, but stay tuned for side plots involving angled walls, terrible tv and stereo equipment, annoying door situations, and the obligatory regrets, excuses and fantasies.

Exposition:

Today’s episode is set in a quirky 60s ranch house with issues — like a crazy angled rock fireplace, a weird recess in the back wall, a wall-way, and a ridiculous door that opens into the room. Click le pic for a larger image.

The Players:

Hailing from Ethan Allen via craigslist, navy blue chesterfield sofa is petite yet all enveloping, soft yet remarkably supportive. Sexy as though she may be, the vagaries of time have not been kind to her (in other words, my cat scratched the crap out of her backside), and she’s feeling abused, neglected, beaten down. Let’s just say her name is Krystle.

Lean, powerful, and expensive, tan couch set hails from Elite Leather via ebay. 100% aniline, he don’t mess around with frou frou binders or chemicals, preferring instead to flash his scars and wrinkles like the badges of patinaed wisdom they are. He may be a tough, no nonsense kind of a guy, but he also knows how to make sweet sweet love to your body. We will call him Blake.

The Interloper:

Blake and Krystle have always had an uneasy relationship. Who ever thought that navy and tan could be happy in a black and gray world, anyway? But through years of proximity (and counseling with a similarly hued rug), they’ve learned to make it work. Until she came along.

Could this skinny slut be anyone other than Alexis, the cougar of couches? 70s rosewood casing with (not so) virgin wool upholstery, Alexis is compact and calculating. Even though I knew Blake and Krystle — while not an eternal match — were at least reasonably happy together, I let Alexis sing her sweet siren craigslist song to me. Basically, she said, “I’m cheap! I’m easy! And I’m sexy as hell!”

And she was. All of these things. But she scraps like a hyena with both Blake and Krystle, plus she’s a rock hard bitch. So to the office she went. Well, at least the office is looking better.

The story should probably end here, with a tenuous but palpable equilibrium. But there is always conflict brewing on the backburner…

Side Plots:

Technology, with its innumerable wires and hideous shiny blackness, is the bane of my existence. Also, my inability to replace those chairs with small cabinets housing the speakers is driving me to distraction. This is an endless source of real life conflict between me and The Hunny, who is seemingly bound by a testosterone oath not to crapoflage his ugly stereo equipment.

Then there is the door of hell that prevents sofa seating against this wall — the wall that faces the tv. Good planning!

This is the best furniture configuration yet. We have tried every possible permutation, and here it is. I should be happy. There are starving children in China. Not happy. Never happy. Want new couch. Want new house with no weird floorplan issues. Want to stop wanting things. So, SOOL lovers — tell me what’s next. What happens in the next episode of the drama? Do Blake and Krystle get broken up or do they kiss and make up? Does Alexis the sexy 70s set get sold to a dealer for a buttload of cash? Do I reconfigure the seating yet again??? Nevermind, I am way too damn tired for that.

Do I buy this sofa off craigslist for 50% of the retail price, thereby turning my living room into a satellite of Karly’s house, since she has the exact same couch? I am 99.9% sure this is a bad idea for many many many reasons, but I like to hold craigslist bargains in my mind like a pebble and rub them constantly.

As if you didn’t already know that the real drama was me.