lovely little thing

Sometimes I fall pretty hard for cosmetic packaging.

This has resulted in the acquisition of an inordinate amount of lip balms and hand lotion. 

Luckily, this being Chicago, one can never have enough lip balm and hand lotion. One for every bag and flat surface is pretty much essential.

Especially when winter feels like extending itself well into May.

Like right now.

45 degrees. ugh.

a week in tumblrs 5.13.11

We took a walk at EXACTLY the right time where the sun makes awesome shadows on the sidewalk. I'm sure there's some tortured artist in New York City doing this exact same thing with the world's rarest camera and film that is handmade by nuns, but I think my iPhone captured the moment quite nicely.

Spent time with the Wishbone folks on Sunday postering in Wicker park for Vigils. In other news, postering is now a legitimate verb-y type word. While Wicker Park may be The Hipster Kingdom of Chicago, it also produces some damn fine coffee. And food. And clothing. And mustaches last seen in photos of turn-of-the-century homesteaders.

Bad judgement calls of the week: 

A) Wearing rain boots because the internet tells me to even though I can see that it is sunny and warm outside

B) Walking two miles round trip to the grocery store in previously mentioned rain boots with no socks in what turned out to be 80 degree weather. Blisters.

Storms have been rolling in and out of Chicago all week making for some pretty unreal sunsets. Last night's appears to have been art directed by someone who really liked My Little Ponies circa 1989.

This is a tabletop in the most depressing food court this earth has ever seen. The tables however, know what's up.

bummer

I had a whole huge post about Vigils and theater in general all typed up and ready to go and then blogger went and crashed. 

This is all my brain can handle at the moment. Raspberries. 

I still don't understand what business the letter 'p' has being in a word like raspberries. In my head I separate it like this: 'rasp (healthy pause) berries.' Like little old-lady berries with raspy voices finely tuned by decades of boozy, lascivious behavior.

I do realize that is the most ridiculous statement ever typed. Blame blogger. Back on track tomorrow!