R.I.P. Bettie

In early December pinup icon, gorgeous woman, kind-hearted soul, and a true believer in 'just being your self,' Ms. Bettie Page, died at the age of 85 in Los Angeles. May she rest in peace.

Gucci by Gucci —by David Lynch

This morning I had breakfast with Andrea at my FAV breakfast spot, Bryant Lake Bowl, mainly because they offer vegan sausage instead of real sausage—I heart that! I was talking to her about her recent adventures in Houston and a Mr. Mystery Man which prompted me to bring up the movie Blue Velvet by David Lynch. Now a good 12 hours later and I am perusing some blogs when I made a discovery on the very cool blog Cat Party that brings my attention back to Mr. Lynch. It's a new Gucci perfume ad by David Lynch. I heart this too.

Take Note!

My dear friend Amy seems to be beginning a photo journal of her and her boyfriend Marshall’s travels and it’s lovely!


Amy and Marshall are avid travelers and Miss. Amy, AKA Mingo, is also a sweet-ass photog! I have added the Amy and Marshall Travel Journal to my section "Good Stuff On the Web" on the right, but you should check it out immediately and you can see more pics like the one from above from their most recent trip to Guatemala. To check out the rest go to Amy and Marshall.

The only sad thing about their travels is that, while they are away, someone else is taking care of my man Watson.

Oh Loyal Fan...s

Hello! I know it's been a while! I promise to write a lengthier post about my recent happenings in little minnie-sota soon! I do get myself involved in the oddest things and my most recent activities are no exception to the rule of "what the hell am I doing now!!??" But alas I am a wee bit busy with this adventure and I am doing some freelancing that I should focus on... I did want to share this though: my aunt Lisa, a very beautiful, funny, witty, and stylish woman, is a great artist, and in memory of my Miss Honey she made me a drawing of Honey.


It's sooo beautiful and looks just like Miss. H.; Lisa is also a cat-lover and was a big fan of Honey's so she completely understands the sadness of this loss... Enjoy the picture, it's very beautiful!!

Walmart Vs. Apache Plaza

The other day I had a traumatic experience at the Walmart. Walmart is HUGE here and this store scares me so... it’s huge, weirdly lit, and full of the oddest characters and oddest merchandise. And yet, I find myself in it often, deliciously enticed by its oddities. However there is so much more to my feelings about this store, than just the store itself. Let me explain:

When I was little, growing up in New Brighton Minnesota, a St. Paul suburb my parents still live in, there was this great little mall just off of Silver Lake Road in the adjacent neighborhood called St. Anthony. The mall was called Apache Plaza and it was fabulous! It was a small mall, not like those huge crazy ones today, there was nothing cookie cutter about this mall. It was all one level and you could literally walk the perimeter of it in say seven minutes, maybe five? That, of course, is without stopping to shop.


Stores that were housed here included my favorite, Marco Polo Imports, a tiny shop in the middle of the mall that had tons of crazy, weird jewelry and gifts; Jolly's Hobby Shop, my bro's fav place; The Beauty Center where Linda cut my Dad's hair; a tiny JC Penny with the Pixie Studio where my aunt worked and took all of our childhood photos; Two Plus Two; Minnesota Fabrics; Braun’s' Fashions; Woolworth’s; The Little Professor Book Store; the secretive Scarpellie’s Restaurant; and, the oh so seedy Apache Wells where those that took to the ‘Devil's Brew’ often could be found...if I wasn’t seven at the time I most frequented the Plaza, you would have found me at the Wells.

In the basement of the mall was Queen's Court dance studio, where I flubbed up taking ballet and tap and my bro successfully took break dancing; a tanning studio; and a weird Weight Watcher's Center. There was also a bowling alley where my parents played in a league every Wednesday night. While my parents competed on the lanes, my brother and I roamed around playing video games with the other kids, chomped on fries and candy at the refreshment counter, and often bought the oddities of the establishment's weirdest vending machine. This machine dispensed anything and everything from tweezers and a mini sewing kit to packs of Beemans and a single serving of Bazooka Joes, but my most favorite thing we ever bought from this machine was the miniature smoking monkey. This special little monkey came with miniature ‘cigarettes’ and real matches. So, there we were, about eight of us 7 to 10 year-old kids lighting the matches up to the monkey’s tiny cigarette resting in his mouth. Once lit we watched in absolute glory as the monkey puffed and puffed his little cigarette away.

Okay, I'm a little off track in reminiscing about this mall, and from the title of this post, I guess we all know that Apache Plaza will win the showdown of St. Anthony consumer stores hands down, and how could it not!!?? The place had smoking monkeys! And let's not forget the mall’s wonderful events and entertainment features. There was a fountain in the middle for penny wishing; an actual huge toy train that took the kiddies around the whole mall for fun, special dress-up days like Pajama day and, of course, Halloween, and on certain nights—usually a weekend—crazy Midnight Madness sales!


Over time though, like all good things, Apache was coming to a sad end… the mall deteriorated and faced challenges, such as being hit hard by a tornado in the late 80s. Soon the only stores left at the mall included a Hallmark shop and Anderson’s Furniture. However the space persevered and became a hot spot for craft fairs and Flea markets, and if only in small spurts, the mall came back to life again.

In 2004 it was the end of the end as the building was demolished to make way for a new, flashier consumer haven, the ever popular fancy suburban strip mall complete with a Cold Stone Creamery (sugary yuk); Caribou/Starbucks, whichever chain that drove a nearby mom & pop coffee shop out of business; of course Chipolte, some Noodle chain, etc. You get the point. And of course, there was the Walmart headlining the demolition. And that brings me full circle to that traumatic experience that just happened a few days ago at the Walmart.

I am perusing the ginormous aisles looking at the craft goods, frozen foods selections, and eyeing the limited edition of the Sex & The City Movie, all the while listening to the wails of a screaming child. In the back of my head I am thinking about Apache, as that ghostly mall haunts my thoughts every time I come home. The screams seem to be getting louder. As I turn the aisle I see the small child that is making these horrific noises, a little boy, about four-years-old and in absolute agony about something that happened upon him in his early life. Just above him I see his mother, standing where I can only guess is where I purchased my first pair of ‘dangly’ earrings—hot pink, lace entwined hearts—and she bends down, looks at her crying child and says, "shut the fuck up."

I left immediately. No one and I mean NO ONE, from the Apache Easter Bunny to the owner of the mall's local, crazy card shop Expressions, would have ever said the "F" word in Apache Plaza.

Hands down, Apache Plaza so wins the St. Anthony consumer hot spots showdown.

----------------

In remembering Apache Plaza Mall I came across this great site that I completely recommend for others wanting to relive the memories of this wonderful mall, the Apache Plaza Tribute Site; http://apacheplaza.com/apachepage1.html

Interestingly, and way off subject, but surely interesting to any fans of Lost, the logo for Apache Plaza so reminds me of the Dharma Initiative.


Namaste

Strangers

My sabbatical stop in MinnieSoooootha is so strange. I haven’t lived here in five years and wow already I see such a difference from Chicago—even though both are based in the Midwest.

In Chicago, if someone is angry or annoyed they are not afraid to let you know it, same goes if they are elated or interested in something—strangers don’t have a problem speaking up and just letting their obnoxious thoughts flow... I guess something should be said for the repressed Minnesotans. Thanks all for shutting up because I guess I don’t really want to hear it. Of course this doesn’t keep me from being quiet. I think I scare these Minnesotans. Like the other day in Target I hear a mother and daughter gabbing about something, literally having a loud blasé conversation one foot from my head and I couldn’t help but pipe in; and as soon as I did they both ran far from me with a look of horror. And I'm thinking 'hey you are the ones dishing your crap right in front of me, what did you expect!?'

I have had similar experiences here, such as on the first night of my new job at a local restaurant downtown. I was doing hosting duties and I was all friendly saying such stuff as “Hi! How can I help!? Thanks for coming in! Have a great night!” I know, scary! Okay, not like I’m all cool or that Chicago is cool, but it became very customary there that you develop a relationship with the workers of a restaurant. One just always said goodbye and thank you on your way out to the waitress, manager, etc, even if you were shouting it across the bar; it was just what happened. It was a courtesy. So when I was being all “byeeeee!!!!” to people leaving this place, I got strange reactions. The men looked at me like I was coming on to them and reciprocated my niceties with looks of horror and disgust; the women merely smiled politely, yet secretly as if not wanting to be caught communicating in anyway with a stranger, and then simply squeaked a quick, quiet ‘thanks.’

It was amusing to see these people run from me as if my saying thank you was the worse thing in the world....maybe it’s just me, but I swear I have noticed a clear difference!

Ava Bava!

Ava Bava's official debut! MEOW! How adorable is she!? Her left eye has a scratched cornea, and yet she is STILL perfect! Honey would be proud.

The telly is gone, so I guess it's official!

I sold my television yesterday! So it looks like I am definitely moving to NYC! Wow, the past few weeks have been a whirlwind of preparation and well, parties! Saying goodbye to friends and goodbye to my things has been intense! Without going into extreme details, I have decided to just show some pictures...

A pre-sale kicked off the selling of my apartment in early September. Here my friend Ashley in her new pink hat exits with her friends, all of which are carrying new goodies from the pre-sale!

For my last day at the magazine, September 19, my immediate supervisor bought me a special pink Barbie cake to wish me "Good Luck" in my adventures!

Here I am celebrating and eating the cake with my former co-workers. Yes, many of you know, this was a very joyous day!

Later, those former co-workers and I further celebrated on the rooftop of Rock Bottom.

And then even later, I held a special goodbye FTC (Finer Things Club) Dinner at my apartment for the members of this exclusive club......here some members were overjoyed in trying on many of the outfits I had ready for my sale the following day. (Above Amy models the hot pink pants and black blazer, Camri is donning the turquoise and black sheath dress, while Jen is wearing the elegant black and leopard trimmed suit!)
Here—reminiscent of the famed Papin sister—Amy and Camri take a moment for the camera in these pretty dresses.

The next day was the Sale Soiree—the most anticipated event of September 2008! Buyers noshed on crackers & cheese, edamame, and hummus; sipped white wine; and bought to their hearts' content!

Tanya picked up a vacuum cleaner and Asian print, among other things; Mandy, a tiara; Barb, an Audrey purse; Abby, Kim, Muffy, Jen, and Sarah each found their own treasures, and Julie scooped up the beautiful pink garden table and vintage turquoise chairs among her many treasures!

And another happy shopper, Mary, left in her favorite find—this classy apron with matching rubber gloves! Oh la la.

Thanks to all who helped me celebrate my leaving by buying my stuff!

My Love

(From Wikipedia)
The Black truffle or Black Périgord Truffle (Tuber melanosporum) is named after the Périgord region in France and grows exclusively with oak. Specimens can be found in late autumn and winter, reaching 7cm in diameter and weighing up to 100g. ^[9] Production is almost exclusively European, with France accounting for 45%, Spain 35%, Italy 20%, and small amounts from Slovenia and Croatia.

bla bla bla

All I know Black Truffle is that I love you.

Uninspired? Maybe

Wow, lately I have had nothing.
My blog has been blasé.

Today I bathed a cat. Today I also heard a man ask the cashier at my local mart if he sold ‘single condoms’. And I thought “Man you need more confidence in your 'skillz.'”

My temple hurts, probably because I attacked a bug bite hoping it would behave like a pimple.
Ava had a BIG day today! Ava, that is my new cat. She’s been with me now since August 7, but since day one has undergone some major stress. Let’s see... I had friends over for a bedazzling party and drinks the day after she was adopted; then, two days later, two girlfriends from Minneapolis roared into town. We listened to loud music, drank wine, and danced in front of mirrors. A man broke into my open window while we were away at dinner. Lame ass C.P.D came over to NOT do their job.

The next day I ripped Ava from her somewhat safe abode into my friend’s home with two other cats and five people. Once home she endured workers tearing out windows and replacing them with sturdier news one with bars. She then developed an upper respiratory infection. She began peeing on my bed. I was distraught!

The problem seemed to go away until this past weekend when I discovered a new urine prezzie on my enzymed-to-death mattress. Today I hauled her ass downtown on the train to see the doc. All day she sat in her crate, waiting for an exam. She got prodded and poked and it was discovered the poor boo has had a bladder infection (peeing out of the box is a huge size of that). She then peed in her crate while waiting for me to pick her up at 5.

We walked to the train, in the rain, waited for 30 minutes for a train that wasn’t completely packed. When she finally got home for safety, before she knew it she was being scooped up for a bath.

Poor kitty.

Now I am enjoying a much needed glass of wine and she’s enjoying a much needed bath of her own version. I am SO happy though. The bad peeing was likely a sign of her feeling sick, so she will be okay and not kicked out to the curb.

Aside from kitty world, I am still in the midst of my major change. No, I'm not turning into a man. At the end of the month I am leaving the city to do what I need to do to leave for New York in January. I am slightly freaking out every five minutes. Leaving my cute little apartment will be sad and selling my ‘Jolenie’ things is upsetting. I know they are just things, but still, it’s sad to me.

My friend E called, after getting an umpteenth email about how I feel sad leaving the apartment and all my ‘things.’ She has been very understanding, but today she said, “it’s funny, while I know it’s important to you, I just don’t understand; it’s only stuff.”

I get that. I guess why it’s been important is because decorating is sort of a fun hobby of mine; I get REALLY into it. While I have lots of ‘things,’ everything is organized—everything is meticulously placed. From the miniature rubber kitties on my TV to the tchotkie pigs in my kitchen… but it is only stuff; it doesn’t move me forward and, as E pointed out, the stuff will never love me as I love the stuff.

Poor Ava. I tried to blow dry her ass. That did NOT go over well. Yes, as I type, I am watching her trying to get comfy with wet fur. She’s a vision nonetheless.

So, from a sick cat to freaking out about freaking stuff, I got nothing. Pretty boring in J’s World…I guess I could talk about politics, but what fun would that be? Um, Palin is pretty, but like pretty models, maybe shouldn't speak? Obama is so young and handsome...his wife is utterly annoying! I wonder if McCain stopped at Cosettas for some killer Mostacollie?

Yeah I got nothing in the world of politics either... is it too late in the game to talk about my boyfriend Phelpsie?

For Foxy

Fortunes

Tonight I decided to grab take-out from a Chinese restaurant in my neighborhood that I had never been to before. Rarely am I head-over-heels happy with take-out food from any Asian restaurant—I guess mainly because I have had a lot of bad Asian cuisine—but since I had never been to this place, I had to give it a try. Well, let me tell you, I was pleasantly delighted!

I devoured crab rangoon and a main dish of black and straw mushrooms with tofu in a brown sauce. Yum! Yum! There was a ton of it and now I even have dinner for tomorrow as well! However, the delish food aside, what sold me on the place was the final treat, that is the fortune cookie

Finally I got cookies filled with actual fortunes, rather than silly mini advertisements or funky phrases. And what is most important, obviously, is that these fortunes spoke to me, confirming my own solid intuition of knowing what I need to do.

Okay, let me explain... LOTS has been going on in J's World. Too much! Too much—too handle! Sadly the events as of late, or rather the events of the whole summer of 2008, have not been the most positive. These events have urged me to make a major, quite terrifying, but seriously exhilarating decision—more on the specifics of that decision later. But, of course, while planning for this new chapter in my life I can't help but stop and think, "Am I totally crazy?"

So when I opened my two fortunes—yes I got two!—I felt plain wonderful. The first fortune was sort of a phrase, rather than a true fortune, but noneless it set the tone.
It said:

The principle business of life is to enjoy it.

The second was my fortune that spoke to me, calming the apprehension within:

Ideas you may believe as absurd ultimately lead to success!

Aaaaah! Big breath, big smile!

Until later,
晚安&做个美梦

Thank You Bill Murray

On Friday Bill Murray parachuted from a plane to kick off the 2008 Chicago Air & Water show.

Thank God Bill Murray brings smiles to my heart during stressful, exhausting times.

I am certain...

"I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affection and the truth of imagination."

-- John Keats

Technical Difficulties

J's World is experiencing some serious technical difficulties; We'll be back once we get our heads together.

I Heart Frida

Last week, my friend and coworker Brett and I started taking some goofy snapshots at work—I guess you could say we needed a "morale booster"—and some were, of course, posted on Facebook. Well, my gorgeous girl Andrea commented that my pic seemed very "Frida Kahlo", a comment I was all too happy to hear. One of the pics can be seen at the right; I'm thinking the office background is not so Frida, but the colors is what probably sparked such a comment.

I love Frida...it may seem easy, or a cliche, but Frida is nothing but an inspiration, a truly raw woman that lived with conviction and passion. She was in constant physical pain, but that didn't stop her from living and creating. And, like the Latin cultures, Frida's paintings and life were surrounded by gobs of sumptuous, saturated color—yum! A lush world that I long to live in, complete with pinks, reds, blues, flowers, vivid gardens, monkeys, ruby stained lips, luxe black braids, and those killer brows!

Last December, at the Minneapolis Walker Art Center, I got to see the world premiere of the Frida Exhibit in celebration of the 100th anniversary of her birth. The exhibit featured 50 paintings from the beginning of Kahlo’s career in 1926 to the year of her death in 1954. Kahlo's eery, and at times heartbreaking, self-portraits were the focal paintings of the exhibit and these pieces made me feel as if I was peering into her soul.

The exhibit is now at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, if you have a chance, definitely go check it out!

Juicy

Princess says I need to get over my animal/bird obsession for a while. My creative juices have certainly not been flowing lately... but I suspect that is changing...aaah but not tonight, I am much too sleepy to be creative tonight.

Who!?

#**#**#*!#!!#*!!! #**#**#*!#!!#*!!! #**#**#*!#!!#*!!!

As you know I have been nurturing a pigeon family on my porch, two babes were born over the fourth of July week; the babies having been growing bigger each day, except today I came home and as usual, the first thing I do is check on them and guess what? The babies AND their planter/nest are GONE. GONE!!!! Not just the babies, again, the planter/nest are gone as well. According to research, pigeons are raised by their parents for 4 to 6 weeks before they can fly. Those babies were only 2 weeks old!

After some investigating I found the planter/nest in the dumpster, but no babies. WHO WHO WHO would do that!?

I have no clues as to what and why this happened.. they were tucked away in a far corner, the only person that would know they were there is someone who would walk all the way over there... I can only imagine the apartment managers somehow found them and got rid of them or maybe the downstairs neighbor who was bothered by the pigeons? Who knows. The baby pigeons were not strong enough to fly on their own. Again, they were only 2 weeks old! Who could have decided they were worth nothing? I don't *#**#*!#!!#* care for one *#**#*!#!!#* minute if people just think they are flying rats, they were living, breathing animals! Who the *#**#*!#!!#* do we think we are to dictate what species can live on this Earth and what can't?

I am heartbroken. I can only imagine they had a terrible, scary death. And now their parents are coming back to the area and the nest is gone and so are their babes. What must they be thinking?

Here's the little guys at one week old... who could just think these little cuties are disposable?

Starlings Update

In a recent email from Annette from the Chicago Bird Collision Monitors:

"I’m so glad we were able to help those little guys. Both starling babies were doing well and eating eagerly. They’ve gone to Fox Valley Wildlife Center to be raised until they are ready to go back into the wild. It was a busy day for our Chicago Bird Collision Monitors’ hotline – in addition to your two starlings we were able to rescue a wren that injured its beak when it hit a window, a robin that fell from its nest, a goose hit by a car and a cowbird with a broken wing."

Thank you Annette!!! Thanks to people like her the birds of the Loop are that much safer!

More Birds!?

Why do these things always seem to happen to me?

As you know, my faithful blog readers, I have been the 'mother hen' to a family of pigeons for the past month and half. In early June, Mama and Papa Pigeon, Penny & Desmond, scouted out an empty planter on my back porch, and made it their home. Within a few days Penny laid an egg, three days later, she laid another egg.

For about 18 days, Pen & Des took turns sitting on those eggs morning and night, keeping them warm and safe. While I was away on vacation those two eggs hatched and out came Little Kevin and Baby Whitney, two of the cutest little baby pigeons I have ever seen!

After losing Honey, watching this little family grow has been good for me. Without Honey, one of the hardest parts of the day is turning the key in my front door lock, opening the door, and being greeted by a memory. The pigeon family has given me something to look forward to. Silly? Maybe—especially since many of you consider these creatures to only be flying rats, but they are quite fascinating and comforting to me.

Last Sunday, I began to worry the babies had been abandoned. I realized the mother hadn’t been around for a couple days, or at least I hadn’t seen her for a couple days. From my understanding, of the little research I did on pigeon rearing, the mother and father take care of the babies for at least 4-6 weeks. It had only been about one week. While I love this little family, I know I am not up for the task of taking care of two baby pigeons.

So, after taking a good look at them that night, and Monday morning, I figured the parents must be coming when I’m not looking because of two positive signs: one, the babies are growing fast; and two, they showed fight in them if I came too close.

Wait, I am getting off track, because this post really isn’t about Penny, Desmond, Kevin, or Whitney, but rather it’s about how such animals, helpless, sweet animals, especially birds, seem to land at my feet, requesting my help. Let me explain.

I leave for work this morning, out the back door—part of my ritual in checking on the family—and I see the mama is back, but this is not what I notice first. Nope. What I see first is a teeny, tiny baby bird squawking on the porch, inches from the family pigeon planter. What I see next is another teeny, tiny bird lying helpless in a nearby flowerpot. I immediately think “What the hell!?” Then, out of knowing that it seems to be my duty in dealing with these situations, I put down my purse, kick off my heels, and call work. “Yes I’ll be running late today.”

These damn birds are going to get me fired, I think. The one little guy is squawking its heart out, while the other one, in the planter, looks as though he’s at death’s door. And, I notice black crows high above licking their chops. I cannot bear this.

I go inside, get on the computer and type the words ‘bird help Chicago’ into Google and up comes the Chicago Bird Collision Monitors (773/988-1867). I call them and speak with Annette who turns out to be a life safer—literally—a bird life saver.

Annette and I talk about the situation. I tell her it appears as if they were just dumped on the porch. Annette asks about a nest and says if I can get them back in their nest, their mother will accept them and take care of them.

I start looking for a nest and see, in the rafters area, directly above my third story porch, is a small nook that is housing the nest; it’s impossible for me to get them back there. Annette says she can come and pick up these little guys so long as I can get them in a box and put them in a safe, warm area, preferably inside. I agree to the task.

I scoop up the babies and put them in a shoebox—one that normally houses a fantastic pair of red patent leather pumps. The little one from the porch is seriously squawking, while the one in the flowerpot doesn’t have much fight left. I am worried, but know help is on the way.

Once inside I run a hot shower to steam up the bathroom, and when sufficiently hot, I turn off the water and bring the birds in the room. They are not snuggling to each other so I give them each a tuft of toilet paper for comfort, tell them they will pull through this—words of encouragement can help!—and I shut the door. Twenty minutes later Annette arrives; I retrieve the babes and am happy to see the weaker of the two seems a tad bit stronger as he's making noise, and they are even snuggling a bit!

I bring them to Annette who tells me that are baby Starlings and certainly would have died had they just been left on the porch. She says what often happens is that there just isn’t enough room for all the babies in one nest so, sometimes, one or two will get accidentally knocked out of the nest. I’m not sure if these little guys will survive, but at least I know that they will not have a horrible death.

Now, going home tonight, I fear what I will find on my porch this evening? An injured crow? A giant owl, or maybe a Bald Eagle!!??

All I know, as sappy as this sounds, the only animals I want to find on my porch is Miss. Honey and sweet Xena.

It's a bird and a bird!

While I was away in Minnesota this past week Penny and Desmond's babies hatched! Now presenting little Kevin and baby Whitney.

Family

It's weird... I was a family with these special felines...and now I am alone. I miss my girls SO MUCH. My heart still aches. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Xena and I did with Honey and all I can think is did I say goodbye good enough? Did I hold her tight and tell her thank you and I love you? I'm sure I did, but that day was like a sad dream that I can not completely remember, and I can't help but think I didn't say goodbye good enough.

Loss & Life

It’s been 10 days since Honey has left this Earth to go to kitty heaven, a place, I am told by friends, is chock full of catnip and free of physical pain. I know she is no longer in pain, and I am truly happy about that, but my heart still aches for her. Often I look for her here at home—out of habit—and then I remember, she is gone. This happens a lot.

I have been going through many emotions; sadness, guilt, loneliness, confusion, and happiness. Yes I said happiness. Happiness because, like I said before, she is no longer in pain, (I had been worried about her suffering since her heart disease diagnosis in February), and happiness also because of my good memories of her and the loving support I have received from family and friends.

I have received numerous emails and cards of condolences. Today I received a beautiful card and the image of the kitty on the front looks exactly like Honey. One of my first thoughts, after looking at this card, was that I needed to display it in a safe spot so it doesn’t get shredded. But then I remembered: Honey and her habit of shredding paper are gone forever.

The worst part of everything, well okay not the worst part—the worst is her just not being here—but the ‘other’ worst part is the analyzing. I have analyzed the days before June 7. I wonder, on one of those days ‘did I forget her pill?’ For the record I was good at pilling her every morning, it became synonymous with brushing my teeth, but there are moments here when I have convinced myself that I screwed up. It’s horrible. I wonder if I had rushed her in the minute I thought she was just acting a little lazy from the heat, would she still be here?

But alas, she had heart disease, the end would have been the same no matter what, it was just a matter of time. My Honey had a good life; I know that through and through. I can feel her spirit hanging with me, assuring me she is happy and felt very loved, but she really misses me too.

Where there is death, there is life.....

On a much cheerier and quite interesting note, on June 14, exactly one week from the day Honey passed, I discovered a bit of life on my back porch. Near my 'tropical garden', on the floor of the deck, is an empty planter that has been turned into a nest for a newly expectant pigeon couple.

After a little research I discovered pigeons mate for life and both help in rearing the egg incubation period.

The male will tend to the egg early morning til mid afternoon and the mother will be there from late afternoon throughout the evening. I have named this pigeon couple Penny and Desmond.

Today I discovered something even more exciting than Saturday’s news. There’s a second egg! I will be documenting this of course, for all to see!

Rest in Peace

On Saturday, June 7, my sweet Honey passed away; she was 13 years old. My heart is forever broken. She was my best friend and I miss her deeply. The doctor tried to do everything possible to save her life, but her little heart and lungs were just not cooperating.

I can only hope she was as happy with me as I was with her. I do know she was the perfect cat, so sweet, so snugly, so adoring. She never behaved badly and always remained cute. I always told her that when God made her he only chose love and chocolate to make her, and inside of her was nothing but paper hearts of pink and red... yes I was obsessed with her and I am not one bit ashamed to admit. Like I said, she was my best friend, never ever did she ever give me grief, never ever did she treat me badly. She treated me like a queen always—how could I not put a being like that on a pedestal?

Following is a collection of the most recent photos of Honey taken just this past month.

This was Honey's favorite rug; a piece of 'swag' from work. The minute I brought it home she declared it her own.

This is one of my fav positions of Honey; she was always super chill and relaxed. I loved that I could be so incredibly loud, singing, and dancing around and she was, from day one, always chillin like a villain with complete trust.

She was also so sweet to placate to my foolishness.

I bought this hat just a couple weeks ago. I was so excited and I plopped it on her head; she obliged for a couple snapshots, but she was obviously not amused.

Here is Honey in one of her favorite snuggle spots, right next to my computer in the kitty nook. Typing and Internet surfing is not the same without my writing partner.

Again, my fav chill position, this time with her favorite toy: a pillow full of catnip. Hmmm maybe that is why she was always so chill?

My friend Jen is not a cat person, but even Jen was seduced by Honey. Yes Jen is the one petting Miss H.

Honey was always the life of the party and had to be in the middle of all the action. Sadly this is the last photo ever taken of Honey on May 27. I wish I had known what was going to happen. I wouldn't have left her side for one minute.

And finally, the last photo of Honey and I together taken May 24.

Rest in Peace sweet girl. Thank you for everything. xoxox

P.S. I am still waiting for her to come out from the closet from her nap, I mean she HAS to, right?

Tchotchkeeper

On page 47 of this week's issue of Time Out Chicago, there's a small story about me and my design sense...Check it out!

DANGER

Aaaaaw Jen is so cute, but she's DANGEROUS!

Notice: Keep Out! OOOOOh she's such a pretty princess.

Circus Elephant

I adore this little guy...don't you!?
What's his story? Why is he so cute? Want the scoop? Then certainly check out Abode! Maybe you can help solve a mystery while reveling in the past...

Another Baby

The past weekend proved exhausting... Friday, my long-lost friend Stephanie and I saw Devotchka, which was musically wonderful, but still did not get this gnawing ‘90s song knocked out of my head. Afterwards Stephanie and I caught up at Matilda's Bar. Stephanie was one of my first friends here in Chicago. I met her at the Duke of Perth and at first we really didn’t like one another, but after having to endure two working nights side by side for a few weeks, we soon realized how cool we both were and began a good friendship. In fact, if it weren’t for Stephanie, I wouldn’t have had such a fun foray into my 30s—see Stephanie insisted we go out to celebrate my 30th in style. This same year Stephanie moved to Seattle where she stayed for three years, we kept in touch. Now she is back here in Chicago and I am happy to have her back!

Later that night, I hopped into Mario’s rock-n-roll cab...


You think there’d be some rockin’ music coming from this cab, right? No, unfortunately the décor is bumpin, but the tunes not so much. I told Mario it’s time to invest in a good stereo system so he can start rockin’ the Aerosmith. He does have a giant poster of the band on the ceiling over the back seat.

Double the giant poster, with the mini Aerosmith posters throughout the cab, throw in a couple Liv Tyler stories and, well pretty soon I want to see a dude that looks like a lady. Mario does seem to have a crush on Miss. Liv as he did recount the few times he drove her around Chicago. But when you press him for any dirty little details, he starts to get excited, and then immediately retreats, “oh no, it's not nice to say such things; I really like her." Aaaaw! Okay Mario, the music may not be rockin’, but I’ll give you points for being a sweetheart.

Unfortunately though, Randy Gerber didn’t see this side of Mario. One evening Mario picked Gerber up downtown, and while in the cab, Gerber noticed Mario’s poster of a wet and bikini-clad Cindy Crawford; he asked Mario “why do you have a picture of my wife up in here?” Not really thinking Gerber was married to Crawford, Mario started playfully arguing, "yeah right, she is beautiful." After further prodding, and not so playfully, Gerber asked again, "Why do you have my wife in here?" Mario then realized that this was Crawford's husband and just replied “Hey look man that’s a model, not a whore.”


If you want to hear more about Mario’s stories and get your own ride in the rock-n-roll cab, call Mario at 312/714-9608. His cab number is 1207. Oh and bonus, Mario not only happily accepts credit cards, he even suggests you use them! Now if only we could get little Janie and her gun in this cab, then I'd be real happy.

As for that song so delicately lodged in my head, well I made my peace with that little ditty...

Meow Kitties

Work has been real busy and just so rewarding...ha! Um yeah...back to reality... So I have been on deadline and I am preparing for my next work trip.

In a week I go to NYC for the National Stationery Show; this is my favorite show of the industry! Beautiful paper, adorable greeting cards, stickers, and, of course, the artists that created these pretty pieces are always easily accessible and more than thrilled to gab about their work. Like Masha Dyans (right).

I love Dyans' artwork, it's whimsical, pretty, and so intricately beautiful! Aside from her work adorned on greetings, she has also done T-shirts for both Target and Urban Outfitters, funky, fun, and colorful T's indeed.

Another company I love is Red Cap Greetings, designs and artwork by Carrie Gifford. Gifford's illustrations are adorably enchanting and some are just a wee bit dark. I love, love! The cards are all letterpress and include touches of color on thick paper stock.
Shown here is Two Scoops which, for some weird reason, completely reminds me of my parents. It's two silly, semi-dorky, but sweet people completely in love with each other enjoying a favorite pastime, eating ice-cream together.

Lucky for me I have made some good friends in the industry and do look forward to seeing them all again as well catching up with new acquaintances from last year, and meeting others for the first time.

Events of the show include judging for the Best New Products Awards, the opening night party at the Rainbow Room, and the reception and ceremony for the Louie Awards. Um, The Louies Awards you ask?

The Louies are the Oscars of the greeting card industry.... yes they have awards for greeting cards and people go nuts for the Louies! It's pretty funny. Each year before the event and ceremony I receive the big box of nominated cards here at the office—this is a good day. All the cards are considered the best of the best, and once the Louies are over and I have covered the event, guess who gets to enjoy sending out some cute cards every now and then!?

I'm really excited this year as I often try to seek out different cards to feature in my section for the magazine. I often find out about different cards and artists through a Google Alerts listing that sends me all the stories relating to cards. This one company I found has the cutest little creations! The company is called LeClair Handcrafted and the artist is Corinda LeClair.

I contacted LeClair to get a card in the magazine, and after talking for a while I mentioned the Louies to her. LeClair decided to enter for the first time, and guess what? She is a finalist!! It feels good to have just a wee bit of a part in helping her get more exposure... Of course it also confirms that my taste rocks! Ha! Okay, but I do highly recommend you checking out her creations! LeClair takes vintage images, reproduces them and adds embellishments, such as ribbon and glitter, and places them on pretty card stock with matching envelopes. So cute!

Like at last year's show, and the NYC Gift Fairs, I again get to try another (new to me) New York City hotel. Last year's hotel was a real trip! I stayed at The Gershwin, next to the Sex Museum! The inside was bizarre, slightly run down, and had a very starving artist feel to it.

The moment I got in my room I thought "nope, I can not stay here." I mean just that previous month I was at the Waldorf for goodness sakes! But as much as I adored the fluffy bed and plush carpet, the overall stuffiness of the hotel bored me, that is why I sought out something a little more exciting... and exciting is what I got. Warning if the hotel is very reasonably priced and uses the word boutique in its description, than indeed be wary!

I was convinced the bed at bed bugs. Lucky for me, the show producers of the Stationery Show also work the hotel and hospitality shows and in speaking with the media supervisor she told me about all the fun things she had learned about bed bugs. So once I checked my mattress and all was clear, I felt a lot better. Thankfully the place grew on me, by the time I left I felt like it was my own little seedy apartment in NYC. Just look at my room below, it even had hardwood floors!

Mean hardwoods floors at that—as when I was in a rush flying about the room getting ready and missed my pierced ear when trying to hook an uber cute red shell earring from Ms. Mingo, I missed and that floor certainly snapped my earring in pieces. It was very sad.

Ahhh well these tales aren't so exciting...maybe to me...I guess the point of my post today is this: I am busy, but I'm missing J's World and my five faithful readers... I will write more and am excited for the next couple weeks. I will come back bearing pictures of my new hotel experience at The Dream Hotel in midtown.....please may it not smell like the W that I stayed at last Feb... not sure what the attraction is to W Hotels, do you know they spritz all the rooms with this god-awful annoying perfume? Headache city!

Please do remember to check out my other blog Abode for the latest in what happening in J's Home World and more of what designs, artists, and random little objects inspire me!

xoxo
Gossip Girl

Happy Smurf Day

My Current Obsession

The CTA should love me. Because today, tomorrow, and however long it takes to finish reading 100 pages of a book, I long for my rides on the el. This is the time I get to step into the once real-life world of Dare Wright, and her eccentric, overbearing mother Edie. The world is glamorous, intriguing, and of course, because both Dare and her mother were artists, attractively tragic, but of course, oh so sad.

Yes I am oozing with an obsession, and it's all about a book. The book is The Secret Life of The Lonely Doll by Jean Nathan. My obsession has obviously something to do with Nathan's strong prose, but more to the point really, this book is about a cherished part of my past: an old favorite childhood book. Simply titled The Lonely Doll, written by artist, model, photographer, and lost soul Dare Wright, The Secret Life of The Lonely Doll is the search for Ms. Wright.

Think back women of the 80's; you too may have read The Lonely Doll. I hadn't thought about it in years until Nathan's book came out a few years back and I saw the image of Edith, AKA The Lonely Doll and a flood of memories came to my existence.

The book is told through a series of black and white photographs, taken by Wright, about Edith the doll, who was quite lonely until she met up with Mr. Bear and Little Bear and began her crazy adventures. The copy I had as a child was read over and over, I was completely enthralled, but I remember always feeling perplexed by it, wondering what drew me to this book—I never knew. There was something very dark, mysterious, and alluring about the book. In fact, it was considered 'dark' by others as well as there are stories of the book being taken off library and book sellers' shelves in the '70s and '80s, because some thought of it as a book not meant for children.

Looking back now I realize it was truly a piece of art, created basically by a woman that just plain never grew up and had her own demons to battle with.

This book, and the follow-up books thereafter, were Dare's legacy, and in short, her story. Dare's past was certainly tragic, but really so interesting. Her relationship with her attention-seeking, and uber glamazon, painter mother, and her relationship with a long lost brother, that was abandoned by her mother when he was only 5-years-old, is tantalizing. For example, for fun, throughout Dare's entire life, her mother and her would play dress up—a lot. They would create backdrops, special costumes, and fantasy worlds—not just when Dare was a child, but even when Dare was 40-years-old!

Even if you didn't read The Lonely Doll as a child, I highly recommend picking up Nathan's book on Ms. Wright as it's a deliciously captivating read! It reminds me a bit of Little Edie and Big Edie, another mother and daughter duo I am as equally enthralled by—check out my post on those two here.

In thinking of mother/daughter duos, I have to wonder, is Mama Turner and I as crazy as these ladies?

Does downing cartons of chocolate marshmallow eggs count?

How about shopping at Herberger's and Savers for wonderfully cheap fashionable duds? Yes I think so! Well mainly because we are usually just shopping for me—a little unfair to Mama, but I do love it!

Thankfully we are much more level-headed than these other crazy mothers and daughters, not to mention much, much cuter! I have to say though, just thinking about mothers and daughters, it's pretty wild how very different my mother and I are! I am loud and boisterous, I guess you could say a little attention-seeking? My mother, on the other hand, is quite reserved, a complete lady! I think I endearingly embarrass her often! I kind of thrive on it. Oh she is so cute when she gets embarrassed!

But....but, back to this lonely little doll.... I have to say, upon reading The Secret Life of The Lonely Doll, I am starting to get some some tribute book ideas in my head about my own little doll...
Little Jolene! Creepy? Yeah, just a little.