Part 2: Does anyone have a rusty fork I can put in my eye?

Read Part 1 of this blog first. But only if you want to...

There's this really interesting new phenomenon that happens at outdoor festival type things nowadays. I guess it might not be that new. The beer garden. Deceptively named.

Beer Garden spectators at the SF Street Food Fest
"Don't the ani-mals look so sad and lonely?"

I experienced this at the last two outdoor events that I attempted, both of which included either a three mile line to the entrance and/or fighting with 20 year olds with feathers in their hair over where the line starts. And me crying.

I get it. It's a great way to try to keep the youngin's from gettin' their hands on a brewsky, and it keeps the neanderthals separated from the neo sapiens. It's a peace keeper in theory. But what about us aging neo sapiens who want to enjoy our beer and tacos like normal animals, walking down the street or sitting on the lawn at a concert, not trapped in a cage with fist-bumping frats?

If you ask me, it sounds more like a recipe for disaster. All the drunks are pinned in together in a tight little caged lump, instead of neatly dispersed amongst a crowd that comfortingly minimizes their power. It's like diluting your white wine with ice cubes.

You also have to stand in (another!) line to get your i.d. checked for a wristband. The line for this is really long, you can imagine. And then you stand in another very long line to get your beer. And then you just stand in the cage. Drinking your beer and fending off elbows, fringe and high-waisted shorts, not actually experiencing the event. The combination is kind of a deterrent. I didn't drink at either event, which is sad. I like beer.

Another note on crowds and why I shouldn't be allowed in them sometimes:

No kidding. We went to the Railroad Revival Tour a few months back at the Port of Oakland, and I swear to Pete that we walked in a line two miles long just to get to the entrance, all the while fighting off line cutters who stumbled along and just happened to stop in front of us and weasel their way in. Really?! I can see you!

After the third time it happened, I snapped. I got all passive-agressive snooty and started saying things like, "Oh, I'm sorry, we're actually in line. It starts back there," and "Oh, sorry! We're in line! Sorry!" which then progressed to crotchety and growly, "Hey! We're in line here! There's a line here, and we're in it, see?! Were you raised by wolves?!"

Also, not kidding: A group of four not-adolescents actually cut and stayed in front of us. So I snickered from behind them more than loud enough to be heard, inching my way in front of them whenever possible. My foot ahead of their's, them stumbling forward. My elbows inching out, them walking faster. Me giving my best evil eye, them ignoring me. It was an ugly dance. For two miles. And nobody else around us was alarmed, growling or attempting to stake claim on their place in line.I was the only one. I was that one.

Railroad Revival Tour @ The Port of Oakland

I should have known how big the crowd would be by how cool the tickets looked.
Isn't the Port of Oakland pretty?

Photos by my sweetums.

Sometimes the clouds are just right. 

It was a beautiful concert, though. We sat on the lawn with about 20 feet of vacant grass surrounding us because everyone else was in the beer garden. So there's that.

A little Edward Sharpe And The Magnetic Zeros for ya.

The End.

Read Part 1 of this blog now. But only if you want to...

Succulent Rehab

I did some urban gardening this weekend, which basically means that I replanted the potted succulents that were dying on our back steps.

I planted them all last year when we first moved into this apartment. I was so excited because we finally had that long-coveted outdoor space that city dwellers die for. Although it's nothing more than a back door with a stoop barely big enough for a welcome mat, I love that it opens up to the clear blue sky.

San Francisco fog hovers over Twin Peaks
like a thick fluffy cloud blanket.

I got so excited about our new 'backyard' that I rushed out and bought $200 worth of succulents and colorful pots. I don't know if you know it, but in succulent currency, that's a shit ton.

I love my plants. I talk to them a lot. I stand and stare at them, willing them to love me back and to show it by growing a little. I squeal like a pig every time I see a new bud popping up.

Unfortunately for them, I also love a lot of other things, too. Like parks, reading, television and beer contests. So sometimes I forget that my plants need water. Luckily succulents are extremely resilient little suckers, and this weekend I spent the day trying to win them back over, promising that this was the last time. It would never happen again.

I've changed.

Don't you love it when they grow those crazy flowering things?!

They had grown so much over the past year, that I had to combine them in bigger pots. I really love seeing them swimming altogether in the same place. They get along so nicely.

Hello.

Sadly, not all of them made it to new pots. Succulents grow in all sorts of crazy directions, and when I was transferring them, these branches fell off. So now they're in mason jar rehab, trying to sprout enough to be planted in all of my leftover colorful pots.

We are so good together.

This week in DIY: Bert the magnificent, gin & tonic and a child with unusually large hands

Last night's premier of Project Runway (eatlovebert, btw) reminded me of how diy-ing my own clothing got me through the first 15 years of my life. I was a little raggedy ann out of necessity, hiding safety pins that held my jeans buttoned as I outgrew them at a pace too fast for my working class parents to keep up with. I secretly slept in my clothes after they were freshly washed so they would stretch out enough to be worn the next day. Surprisingly my mom never commented that I was already fully dressed for school when she woke me up.

I wore her t-shirts, two at a time (she's 6'1", can you imagine?) with the sleeves rolled up so it wouldn't look too ridiculous. Back then I wasn't thinking of how I could make an amazing outfit out of all of this, so much as I was hoping not to repeat an item of clothing in the same school week. OH THE HORROR! And cause for immediate mean girls expulsion.

Old Sweatshirt Becomes Super Cute Cardigan
Doesn't she look like Elle McPherson?
Source: dee*construction on Flickr

That Before picture looks just like a sweatshirt I would've stolen from my mom and worn. To school. As-is. To avoid embarrassment. Oy.

To me, do-it-yourself is the most basic human instinct, besides wanting to eat babies. And construction/deconstruction/construction is universally primal among my thought processes. 

When I'm cooking, I imagine the whole meal on my fantasy plate, then I break it down to the individual foods themselves, what pans I need and how to juggle them back together. I'm usually sauteeing while simultaneously thinking of what else is in the fridge that I could use. Grain mustard, radishes, seeds, lemons.

When in doubt, I always squeeze a lemon.

I can see myself making a gin & tonic right about now.
Source: (from top left, clockwise) closetcooking.com, donnahay.com/au,
joythebaker.com, theglitterguide.tumblr.com,

When I see a piece of furniture or artwork, I immediately think "How can I make that?" instead of "How much does that cost."

I love the scale of this frame leaning behind the sofa. The visual texture of the photos is the perfect conceptual compliment to the brick wall. Traveled, weathered and full of stories. Not to mention the Union Jack pillow, which could easily be made with old t-shirts and stich witchery. I hope I get around to this one.

Travel Photos in Large Scale Frame

Source: Apartment Therapy

I don't remember the first time I wanted to be Martha Stewart. I'm sure it was a closeted fantasy, because no self-respecting tomboy would be caught dead with a glue gun, and we didn't raise pheasants in our backyard.

Somewhere along the way, maybe when I bought my first sewing machine at 19 - an old White that was built into the table with a knee pedal I found for $25 at an estate sale - I knew I had acquired something golden. Something that opened possibilities for a cheaper, more interesting way of life.

 I had no idea what to do with it, but somehow I made a pencil skirt that DIDN'T FALL APART WHEN I WORE IT. The zipper was totally crooked in the back, but I pretended it was part of the design.

Yes, somewhere along the way, I became a Martha-ite. And probably even more secretly, I stuck with her through her unfortunate (but deserved) time on the rock.

Paper Pendant Lamps

Use simple paper shades and add layer upon layer of pretty goodness.

This is something I would do just for the fun of it. I don't actually have anywhere to put it.

Source: Martha Stewart via Apartment Therapy

Have you ever wanted to jam spoons into your eyeballs trying to find your other earring? One time I actually slapped myself in the face when I was trying to unjangle a necklace. Pull. Yourself. Together!

Drawer Pull Jewelry Holder

Source: onewomenshaven.blogspot.com

Do you realize that a person's options for jewelry storage are limited to those canvas closet things with plastic see through openings (which I have), stretched out pantyhose, ballerina boxes or tupperware?

One time when I was little, my dad got me a jewelry box. I didn't have any jewelry, so I just put rocks in it. My point is that it looked like a miniature china cabinet, and we weren't china cabinet people. We were bull-in-china-shop people.

It was small-tall and made from lacquered cherry wood. It had etched glass double doors that opened out, and it was mirrored in the back (so you could see yourself try on your jewelry, of course). It was so tiny, and I was an unusually large child with unusually large appendages. I could barely fit my hands into it, either to place or extract my rocks. I had to just toss them in there and turn it on its side to get them out.

Which just reminds me of how much I love plants. Look! She put plants in rocks!

Pressed Garden Leaf Stones
Source: sunsetgurldesign.typepad.com

And I love seeing plants in curious places, like clear containers.

Dinosaurs belong in their native surroundings.
Source: (from top left, clockwise) witanddelight.tumblr.com, madeit.com.au, oncewed.com

My friend Elizabeth gave me this one after I had surgery.

From Elizabeth
She got it at Iron & Eve Designs. IronAndEve@yahoo.com

(What surgery, you ask? Click over here to find out.)

What are your proudest DIY's of late?