Power Tools

I need a hobby.

I aspire to be crafty. Specifically, I have been in the mood to redecorate lately - my office, my room, or whatever space is available. One of my projects is to hang a variety of different sized frames on one wall in my room. Frames in various colors and textures.

In order to hang said frame, I would need a level. Mostly because I am insanely anal and like things to be straight and perfectly spaced out. However, I have issues. I can't even draw a straight line with a ruler (thank God that architecture thing didn't work out -my clients would have uneven floors and ceilings).

Therefore, to get the job done, I need this...

Yes, ladies and gentleman....a laser level!

This puppy suctions to the wall and gives you a perfect line every time. Plus, it does things like locate metal studs in a wall and live wires. Handy, because getting electrocuted could really put a damper on your home improvement project.

I could be a picture hanging bad ass with this thing! My mind is spinning with all the possibilities!

Interestingly enough, this is not the first "power tool" I have wanted to purchase. Tech Ed in 7th and 8th grade gave me a hankering for a nail gun. I literally asked for one for 2 Christmases.

This is the conversation that generally followed...

Dad: Allison, what the hell are you gonna do with a nail gun?

Me: Uh, build stuff...duh.

Logical, I thought. Obviously I was going to be the next Amy Wynn Pastor from Trading Spaces with my nail gun. And ok, maybe in the past I had some DIY disasters. For instance, I found a 1930s metal bed frame in an antique store and had plans to spray paint it to match my room. Dad set me up with all the necessary equipment. Not 5 minutes into the project, I almost spray painted my eye. Needless to say, Dad finished the painting.

I believe everyone deserves a DIY pardon.

Therefore, Santa, if you're reading this, please put a Black and Decker laser level on my Christmas list. I have been a very good girl this year. Please and thank you!

Love,

Allison

Sleeping Beauty

Currently, I am working hard to generate business and revenue in my big girl job. I need money to, you know, live, but also for things like student loan payments, overpriced specialty coffee drinks, and my latest obsession...Pottery Barn.

Now, I don't have a space of my own (yet) and I probably would (not) be able to afford Pottery Barn, but a girl has to dream! I perused the site this afternoon and shrieked out loud because I discovered that Pottery Barn carries my dream bedding! (Insert cricket chirps here because who freaking has "dream" bedding? Well...I do).

Ask anyone, I am the Queen of naps. If I have spare time (hell, even if I don't) I can most likely be found curled up in a pile of pillows and blankets snoring soundly. In fact, I could tell you the components of my "dream" bed right now.

- An upholstered headboard or iron framed canopy bed

- 1500 count Egyptian cotton sheets
- Queen size Vera Wang by Serta mattress

Andddddddddddd drum roll please...

MONOGRAMMED SHEETS!!!!

Who else is super excited?!?!

What can I say? I'm a sucker for a good monogram. If I had my way, I'd have my initials embroidered on the edge of the pillowcases in navy blue. Sadly, I have given a lot of thought to this.

Until then, I will continue slumbering on my bleach-stained JCPenney pillowcases.

Here's to sweet, stylish dreams my dears.

Random Things That Make Me Happy - Part One

I have decided to start a segment on my blog entitled "Random Things That Make Me Happy." Honestly, I'm a pretty simple lady, and it doesn't take much to make me smile. The first installment of RTTMMH focuses on...babies.

Yes, I love babies. Please do not think that means I want babies (which, I do, but not now, notttttt now). Instead, it brings me joy watching, observing, and playing with other peoples' kids.

I am that person on the bus/train/sidewalk that has a huge smile plastered on her face and is waving her arms like a blatant idiot in an attempt to make your kid grin. I am that person oogling over bite size overalls and pea coats in Baby Gap. I am that person watching A Baby Story on TLC oohing and ahhing over pint sized newborns (and at the same time scared shitless at the idea of birthing a human being).

How can you not love a teeny, tiny, innocent baby? I can't help but coo over their pudgy little legs, soft, rosy cheeks, and toothless grins. And the sound of a baby laugh is enough to melt even the iciest of hearts. Oh and baby feet! Baby feet are undeniably precious.

Plus, kids really do and say the darndest things like suggesting you name your new puppy "Tractor." Or coloring the cat with pink magic marker. Or chopping off a large chunk of your mother's hair in her sleep.

However, I have also learned that there are times when you should not wave and smile at children...and that is when they have a super creepy father. Story time! It was mid December, and I was on my way home from my internship. I was standing on the subway platform feeling very jolly. It was my last day of the internship, and I was looking forward to a fun evening at the bar with friends. It was rather empty, and I glanced around and spotted a family.

A little boy looked at me and waved. I smiled and waved back, just being friendly. Then, the father appeared. He approached me and asked if I was married, which is when I knew this was going downhill. Then, told me that he needed a momma for his kids.

Okkkkkkkkkkkkk.

After a nervous laugh, I hightailed it out of there and vowed never again to make eye contact on public transportation.

However, the moral of this story - babies are still cute...even if they belong to creepy people.

Where the Green Grass Grows

It is the most gorgeous day in Central PA today. The sky is china blue, and the clouds look like they've been painted on. Everything is vivid hues of green and yellow. I feel slightly like I stepped into a Technicolor dream world.

There is a slight breeze floating through my office window. The sun casts a warm shadow. I say a silent prayer of thanks for the sheer loveliness I'm experiencing at this very moment. I cannot think of anything more beautiful than a summer day.

I adore the view of the Philadelphia skyline but nothing compares to the patchwork fields and clear skies of Lancaster County. I feel like I'm living in a postcard.

Enjoy Tim McGraw's "Where the Green Grass Grows," which is the perfect song for today (and another instance of Pandora stalking my musical brain).

Meow

I am dedicating this post to my lovely furry friend, Gary the Cat.

We celebrated Gary's birthday a couple days ago. Yes, I threw a party for my cat. Yes, I know that sounds pathetic and one day I hope to throw birthday parties for my children and not a feline. For now, I gotta work with what I got...and for the record, his cake was awesome. Yes, he had a cake...and yes, he actually ate some of it and surprisingly didn't throw up anywhere. Win!

Anyway, here is the story of Gary.

Last summer my friend Brian and I were on our way home from the bar. We rounded a sharp curve in the road, and Brian jerked the steering wheel suddenly to miss something on the road...

Brian: I think that was a kitten.
Me: (screaming) TURN AROUND AND GO GET IT

We turn around to go examine our findings. There, smack dab in the middle of the yellow line, lay Gary. He was tiny and wet. He was skeletal and appeared to only have one eye. He was crying, and his appearance absolutely broke my heart. I had no idea if my family would let me keep the cat but all I knew was that I couldn't leave him (later, I would explain to my mother that Jesus told me to take Gary home).

Once home, a bunch of us attempted to nurse Gary back to health. His first night he slept in a box in our summer kitchen. The next day my mother swore up and down we couldn't keep him, but my dad (he is such a softie!) took one look at Gary and committed himself to taking care of this kitten.

As it turned out, Gary had 2 eyes. He was also malnourished and weighed all of one pound (his welcome packet at the vet weighed more than he did). He had a severe respiratory infection and mites in his ears. He was lucky to be alive. Furthermore, free kitties are never really free (Gary was the $500 cat by the time it was all said and done).

Yet, this year with Gary was a wonderful one. He makes us laugh and does cute things. He is kind of dumb but too effing loveable for words. And yes, he is named after the snail on Spongebob Squarepants (genius, I know).

So, happy birthday/adoption day Gary! The Freeman Family (even mom) is happy to have you.

Oh, and for the record, I'm not allowed to bring any more animals home.

Ode to Fall

Summer you were really cool (actually, really hot) but I am ready for you to peace out and make room for fall. I am trying hard to pretend it's fall by doing things like turning the AC in my room down to 62 degrees, wearing cardigans in 90 degree weather, and sipping hot beverages. Summer has its advantages, including, frozen margaritas with umbrellas, porch parties, and sundresses.

However, I crave flannel and campfires and overpriced pumpkin spice lattes from Starbucks. I want to step outside my door and not drip sweat (lovely mental picture, I know). I'd enjoy not constantly having mosquito bites all over my feet.

Plus, I'm excited for fall shopping. I'm lusting after cognac colored boots and midnight washed denim and a jewel toned pea coat (or trench coat or bomber jacket...). I dream of trading in my pink gloss for matte red lipstick and my pastel eyeshadows for a swipe of black liner.

I want to drink apple cider and tea. I want to wear sweatshirts and my favorite worn in jeans. I want to add another blanket (or 5) to my bed and snuggle up without perspiring.

Summer you have overstayed your welcome. Please make room for fall and don't try and pull any of that Indian summer shit.

Love,

Allison

I'm Putting On My Big Girl Panties and Dealing...Right After This Rant

Disappointment is the worst emotion and lately I've been feeling its effects on a too frequent basis.

I think I am rather forgiving but there are a few select souls who walk all over me. Now, I know that, yet I let it happen anyway. That forgiveness thing can be a blessing and a curse sometimes. However, I am done giving chances. They aren't free, you know (well, actually you probably think they are...but not anymore, buddy).

Furthermore, if you commit to someone, you should probably follow through with your actions. It's just polite, really. I'm not Emily Post here or anything but for serious.

Ok. End rant.

Now listen to this Katy Perry song I've had on repeat all weekend.