Elegantly Random

What's the return policy on this thing, anyway?

My husband and I recently celebrated one year of home ownership. What a milestone! As much as we need our vacation this year, I'll admit we needed it far more last year. Maybe the stress we were under can explain some of our seaside antics. Or maybe we're just a pair of crazy kids who like drinking the demon liquor, removing all our clothes and swimming in the ocean in the dead of night. The world may never know.

Last spring, I was so incredibly antsy to get out of our apartment and start investing our money in a home. But to be perfectly honest, part of it came from feeling like everyone else was buying a house and feeling like we should be able to do it too. Now that I've lived in this house for a year, I've matured a bit (how could you not) and come to realize that owning a home is a lot of work. I "knew" that last year, in theory - but you don't really know it till you have lost sleep and cried tears over how broke you are thanks to your precious four walls and roof.

The pros of home ownership absolutely outweigh the cons, and I don't regret our decision in the least. However, I think twenty-somethings have this weird sense of entitlement about owning a home - and not just a home, a really nice, large home. It's so odd - there's really no reason to rush something like this, but we do it. It's like we feel like we should have everything by the time we're 30 - house, awesome cars, great job, lots of money, kids - and really, things don't even really get started till we're 30. If I had it to do again, I think I would have waited 6 to 12 more months, saved a bit more money before taking the plunge. Not that those pearls of wisdom are going to matter one iota to anyone who might be reading this now, feeling just like I did last spring - yes, I'll admit it - entitled.

But regardless of how we got here and whether it was right or wrong, here we are. And the house is still standing, so I call that a successful year. Here's hoping we can sell this mother when the time comes.

Forget Coach - give me Tanglewood, aka The Precious

Two months ago, I fell in love with a bag.

Tanglewood, by Alicia Paulson, whose blog I read faithfully and whose wares are beautiful. She created this bag in May, and since then I have stalked her website, waiting for the day when she would release these for sale on her web shop. And that day finally came on July 15, 9 a.m. PST (12 p.m. Eastern). I was glued to my computer with butterflies in my tummy, my PayPal account at the ready, and I was one of the five lucky ladies who purchased the five - yes, just five - bags for sale. Sure, there were kits so you could make your own, but no - I wanted an Alicia original.

How much do you think that darling bag cost? Just go ahead and guess. But I earned it, man. I spent the last 6 months making this that and the other thing for Christy's wedding. I deserve a beautiful, one-of-a-kind bag. And now it's mine. My own. My precious. I like beautiful things, but my idea of beautiful isn't necessarily Coach or Prada or any of that name-brand stuff...most of the time, I really go for something handmade, artistic and unique.

And I am going to treat this bag like it's lined with diamonds, because it is easily one of the most expensive and the most beautiful accessories I've ever bought for myself. And well worth it - because it's handmade, and only four other people have one.

*purr*

Time to get crunk.

I'm back from Chahleston and awaiting the arrival of Carolyn and Hayden. We're going out in Charlotte tonight to celebrate Carolyn's birthday, and in the morning we set out for Holden Beach. Despite reports of a tropical storm making its way up the coast and guaranteeing some rainfall for the first 24 hours of our stay, it looks like the rest of the week will be full of perfect beachin' weather. We'll eat, and sit, and read, and swim, and drink. I am so ready for this break. We've got our swimsuits, sunscreen, iPods and books all packed, along with the most important item of all...

The crunk cups. Maggie's is, I think, particularly good.

See you all in about a week! I've got some timed posts that will come out to keep you entertained.

Charming Charleston

Oh, Charleston. How do I love thee. If I have to be away for a work retreat, at least it's here. We're staying at the Marriott on the Ashley river (my doggie's namesake!). My room is lovely...

Note the pineapple on the bedpost. :)

Tonight, we ate at a really neat restaurant called The Wreck of the Richard & Charlene. It was on Shem Creek in Mount Pleasant, just over the Cooper River bridge, which is gorgeous. You can see it there in the background:

Someday, I'll have the means to live in a place like this. For now, I suppose it will do for a vacation spot...

It's a sickness, really.

I'm making my very first garment. It's almost finished and I'm so proud. It looks huge when it's laid out flat like this, but it's very skimpy when you put it on. And you might be surprised to learn that the high-end yarn I purchased was $40. I deserve it - I made a lot of baby gifts this year.

The other day, a friend of mine said to me, "Not to be rude, but why would you want to make your own clothes?" I guess it's something that's hard for some people to understand. Perhaps it seems old-fashioned. Maybe it just seems like too much work. Some people probably have trouble envisioning how you get from a ball of yarn to a wearable clothing item. Or maybe you just think "homemade clothes" and you think of...well...this:

And yes, that's really scary. Wipe that image from your mind, and think more along the lines of this:

...or this:

...or even this:

These are just a couple of projects on my list for the future. And there are hundreds more where those came from. I love making things - as most of you know - starting with an idea, a color, a ball of yarn, some measurements and ending up with something beautiful, nicer than you could buy in a store. It's a real point of pride to make something - and I can't wait to get really, really good at it.

If you're interested in knitting or crochet, you should get on the waiting list for my new favorite online community, Ravelry. It's a total mecca of all things yarn-related. You can share patterns, buy and sell yarns, make friends, ask questions, get tips - it's wonderful. That is, if you're into making sweaters and socks.

Which, ya know...I am.

Save room for the vodka!

On Saturday we depart for our annual week of vacation at Holden Beach, NC. I've been going there since I was a little kid, and I love it - it's private, it's quiet. There are no hotels. There's really not a whole lot of anything there - just me, my friends, the sun and sand, good books, good food and drink and good times. We're staying in a big house this year with 10 people. Good times.

I'm kind of the "trip organizer" every year - it suits me. I enjoy planning things. Fortunately, this year I have my sister here to help out. I am 2/3 of the way finished shopping for food and sundries for the beach. Along with the foodstuffs (some of which are currently hanging out in my freezer), I'm dumping all the towels, games, sunblock, books, aloe, iPod docking stations, poker sets, etc in our "fun room" - seemed appropriate. As of Monday night, this was the state of affairs:

And I haven't even begun packing clothes yet. But hey - you try shopping for 10 people and you'll see how hard it is. We have budgeted $750 for the week for food, drink and sundries and I've spent about $335 so far. I'll pick up the produce, some more meat, dairy and breads on Saturday right before we land on the beach house.

To make matters even more confusing this year, I have to go to an office retreat in Charleston tomorrow morning through Friday afternoon - so I'm actually going to be packing tomorrow night for the next week and a half. Ugh!

I do like going someplace new whenever possible, but there is just something comforting about having this one spot that I return to every year, a routine to look forward to. I think it's because I have moved a lot in my life, way more than most people, and Holden Beach is more like home to me than just about any other place. And I so love sharing it with my friends and family.

Next stop: liquor store.

Never again.

For the past six months, I have been freelancing a wedding project for my friend Christy - save the dates, invitations, favors and programs, all handmade. This week, I am finally, finally wrapping up the project and I cannot wait to be finished. It's nearly impossible to charge what you're really worth for a project like this, and I have spent hundreds of hours working for not all that much pay, and that's entirely my fault - I really had no idea what to charge when I started out. Live and learn.

Spending so much time working on this stuff has reminded me just how much I absolutely loathe weddings. I would not get married again for a million years (and not just because I love my husband). Don't get me wrong - I love Jay, and our wedding turned out to be a really fun, non-traditional, low-key event (beer, liquor and wine in abundance). But getting married is probably the most stressful thing you can do, on the same list with buying a house and having a baby. Not only is it a huge hassle, it's an absolute money pit, whether you're that girl who's spent her entire life dreaming of her big day or (like me) you really never thought about marriage till the ring was on your finger.

There's really no escaping spending far too much cash on an event that, in the end, is over before you can say "I do." And I'm sorry to all you lovers and dreamers out there who think weddings are rad, but in my humble opinion, they're a total waste of precious, hard-earned cash. If I had it to do all over again, I'd absolutely elope. It ain't worth the drama, or the nuclear disaster to your bank account. My advice to those planning a wedding: spend the money on booze. It's the most important part anyway. That said - feel free to pay me to design and create your paper products.

Before I leave for my beach vacation in 5 days, I will drop off the programs to Christy and say sayonara until her wedding day. I know it's going to be a great event, but as I watch her go through the final plans and freak out, I find myself whispering to myself, "Never again. Never, never again."

If you're a man, and you work in an office with women...

Do me a favor.

Stop turning the temperature down to 62 degrees in the summertime.
I understand you're wearing a suit. But I'm wearing a dress. We need to find a happy medium, and me sequestering myself in my office with the door closed and the space heater cranked as high as it will go in mid-July while you sit comfortably in your office is neither "happy" nor "medium."

Refrain from commenting about the amount of food I eat (or don't eat).
I can't help it that you are overweight and out of shape. If my thin, athletic frame is in some way upsetting to you, I apologize. And I'm sorry my daily menu doesn't consist of two Egg McMuffins for breakfast, 4 cups of coffee, and a heaping, greasy plate of Mexican food for lunch. My doctor assures me, and likewise, I assure you, I am eating the perfect amount of food, and I'm not anorexic. Bugger off.

Avoid standing too close and leaning over me at my desk.
It is not necessary for you to tower over for me in order to explain something. There is a chair directly across from me. Sit in it. I promise you, I will be able to decipher your request from waaaay over there.

Put the friggin' lid down after you use the toilet. No explanation required.

Like, what's a cassette tape?

The other night, I was watching the Top 100 Songs of the 1980's countdown on VH1 (good background noise for a knitting addict). I was nearly swept away on a giant wave of nostalgia as the glorious sounds of A-Ha, the B-52s, Twisted Sister and Madonna filled my ears. Oh, heavenly electronica and hair band euphoria! Take me away! Check out the top 20 here.

For every generation, there's a socially accepted token of teenage affection. For the baby boomers, it was "being pinned" and wearing varsity jackets and class rings. When we Gen X-ers liked a guy or a girl and were thinking awkward, hormonal thoughts about him or her...what did we do? Duh - we made a personalized mixed tape with all the best songs, complete with hand-written dedications and sometimes even voiced-in messages in between songs and always, always with a few carefully selected ballads that would let him/her know that we were pining away. And the song choices! You had Purple Rain and Don't Stop Believin' and You Shook Me All Night Long and Time After Time. In the 90s we had Boyz II Men and Bryan Adams and Milli Vanilla and Paula Abdul to help us express our love. Those were the days. And as if the songs weren't enough - you had music videos! That were actually shown on television!

When I was between the ages of 10 and 18, if a guy handed me a mix tape I just about swooned right there at my locker. Today, I don't think kids make mix tapes. If a girl wants to let a guy know she's into him, she just gives him a blow job. Even if she's only 12. Which is really scary and I don't even want to talk about it.

So I got to wondering - do kids these days have anything like that? I don't think kids even use CDs that much anymore. Do they make iPod playlists for their sweeties? What do you do when you have a crush (aside from handjobs and simulated, pants-on sex)? And if you did make a "mixed tape" for your crush now, I shudder to think of the songs it might include. Go ahead, cry for the youth of America and the loss of innocence, because even if they did desire to make an awesome mixed tape, it would probably just be full of The Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus and NeYo and Good Charlotte and American Idol rejects. *tear*

Whose line is it, anyway?

We're getting a new fence! Finally!

I am so excited. Our home is about 20 years old, and when we bought it a year ago the previous owners put on a new roof and gave us many nice new windows. Then, a month after moving in, a tree fell onto our ten-year-old fence. Remember that? Yeah, that was a shitter.

So after that, the fence went from being "on its last leg" to "code blue." We paid a contractor to come out and repair it but just couldn't spring for a new one so soon after moving. (Note: this is why you should wait longer when you think you're ready to buy a house. You're not. You're not rich enough. Don't be cocky and impatient like we were - hold off as long as you can!)

But now we can ignore the fence issue no more. It's nearly fallen down several times - a strong gust of wind about took out one whole panel one windy spring day. Not to mention what an eyesore it is, and it's holding up any and all future backyard landscaping goals. And now that we've recovered our finances, we're ready. Trouble is - the neighbors share fencing with us - so two of the three sides sit on the property line. Essentially, two sides of our fence are co-owned by two different neighbors.

So, in theory, they should split the cost of a new side with us. Right? Common sense would say, if the fence is on both our property lines, you should pay for half of that side. But I'm sure it won't shock you to learn that neither of our neighbors could find the cash right now for such a thing. However, they had no problems telling us how the fence ought to be built. I guess I can't really blame them -  they're not moving anytime soon, and hey - we're gonna replace it with or without their help, and they know it. It's a win-win for them (but sucks for us).

But we're moving ahead anyway, disgruntled as I am about the $2,800 fee we will be paying by ourselves while our freeloading neighbors get a free side of a fence out of the deal. I'm trying to focus on the positives - our yard will finally be pretty, we're upping the value of our home, and in a few years we'll be outta there.