The Felicitous Life

This Is Just Appalling.

2011-07-13T09:06:00.000-07:00

The view from my office, today, July 13, 2011. You should be able to see the ocean between those two buildings that look like vanilla wafers.

San Francisco weather, you finally wore me down. I actually used to enjoy dreary, gray days. I never really noticed that our summers are not exactly sunny and warm. I have never been one to gripe about an extended span of sunless days. But, you got me. This December will mark my sixth year in the city, and I have to not only notice, but adamantly gripe that this absolutely sucks. I wore a black wool coat to work today. My hair was soaked by a thick, insidious mist after a one-block walk to the bus stop. Not cool.

I am super behind in my blogging, but I have been up to all kinds of nonsense that is stockpiled up for posts. Hopefully soon!

Brugges - Day 2: Black Cats & Belfries

2011-06-05T17:12:00.000-07:00

If we found our time in Brussels a bit lackluster, the quaint little tourist town of Brugges, just a forty-minute train ride from the city, more than amply made up for it. When I saw the pictures of one of my favorite blogger's trip there, it not only sold me on the destination, but catalysed our entire trip. With its picturesque views, beautiful canals, and medieval architecture, it was like walking around a little fairy tale city. I absolutely fell in love with it. Hope it's not hard to see why!

There were hordes of people coming out of the train station to cross through the walled city's gates, including my favorite type of tourists.

The canal surrounding the entire city.

Making our way through the little cobbled streets toward the main square.

Entering the downtown area, where the most prominent building punctuating the Brugges skyline is a 13th-century belfry.

The famed belfry up close.

Main city square.

City Hall.

Much like the Ashbury Apartment, Brugges' government is represented by a Lion and a Bear.

Brugges City Hall > Yours.

Our new friend, Bert, couldn't direct us to the Folk Museum, but he could show us the world's smallest street (that could probably use a little fact-checking).

These folks are serious about three things: chocolate, Easter, and Easter chocolate.

Our first canal-view inside the city!

Time for refreshment, Belgium-style.

The beautiful sights continued as we ventured outside of the main city area and into the surrounding neighborhoods, still in search of the elusive Folk Musuem.

One of my favorite pictures.

At last! Though the Folk Museum was closed, I was happy to get a picture with their awesome sign.

As the day wore on, we only seemed to enjoy Brugges more. The setting sun put such a different glow on the buildings and streets that we could have easily taken every picture over again. As the afternoon gave way to twilight, an evening breeze lifted each little flag up, and the less-hearty tourists departed for the train station, the whole city took on a magical air. From the reflections of the canals to the swans to the dark, empty streets, I felt like I had been transported to another time and could have stayed forever.

More pictures: https://picasaweb.google.com/101913530008494937175/BrugesApr112011?authkey=Gv1sRgCKeE68aIgID8iwE#

Brussels - Days 1 & 3: Hi, We're In Delaware

2011-05-29T19:34:00.000-07:00

I would like to preface this post with a quote from the Brussels Office of Tourism's pamphlet:

"If you're looking for a city break full of surprises and unusual feelings,

then Brussels is ideal for you!"

Everybody remembers that part in Wayne's World with the blue screen, right? Wayne and Garth ad lib stereotypical comments about each location that flashes behind them like Hawaii and New York, but when they come to Delaware they are kind of ... speechless.

In case you aren't sure where I'm going with this, Brussels was our Delaware. Maybe it wasn't Brussels's fault ...maybe anything seems dull compared with the excitement and bustle of London and Paris ... but I'm inclined to think that Brussels really isn't so great. Brussels is the known as the "capital of Europe," it's over a 1,000 years old, the EU is headquartered here ... sounds promising, right?

Here's the short run-down of how our visit went:

11am or so arrival. Check into our airbnb flat, get settled, and strike out for the historic main old square.
12pm. Hit the square, look around, take some pictures. Meander into the side streets; discover only tourist trap restaurants, look around bewildered.
1pm. Venture further out of the tourist area. Mostly empty, unremarkable streets, starts getting a bit dodgy.
1:30pm. Stop for a beer (this will be a recurrent activity throughout our visit).
2:00pm. Walk another direction. Still same as above. Head back toward our flat, see a bowling alley, say, "Why not?"

And that was Brussels.

The airbnb flat was pretty cool, though. Very Design*Sponge.

Belgium beer #1 of .... countless.

On the way to the Square

Cityscape

I couldn't locate the name of this rectangular garden. Very pretty! Judging by the various postcards we saw, it changes with each season.

I have no idea.

Everywhere we visited in Europe was super into Easter decor.

At the Grand Place at last.

Pretty awesome sign.

This statue is quite famous.

Where we found strong (but unique) black tea for Hannah after finding nothing novel in London.

Looking back on these pictures, it's more visually-appealling than you would expect based on my description, right? Again, maybe Paris and London skewed us. Regardless, this is where we ended up....

That was that. Back to exploring the streets.

Extremely bizarre, but really awesome street performers who seemed to be acting out something along the lines of a Flemish Waiting for Godot. I wish I had on video what happened next: the one in the red started "interacting" with Will from afar, and they seemed to be throwing or spitting things back at each other. When I later inquired what the exchange was all about, Will replied, "magical head-butting." But of course.

As dusk settled in, we headed back to our neighborhood for some delicious thin crust pizza and wine, and called it an evening.

On Day 2, we headed to the unforgettable little city of Brugges, but it will get its own post later. On to Day 3, where we gave Brussels another sporting try.

Checking out Toone, a pub/puppet theater (it was closed so we didn't go in).

And we've come full circle.

What else to do now but go to the comfy cafe around the corner with a vast selection of beers and read Harry Potter for the remainder of the day?

We are adept at curing boredom.

So, yep. That was Brussels.

More pictures here: https://picasaweb.google.com/101913530008494937175/BrusselsApril10122011?authkey=Gv1sRgCNeE846qyNaAlAE#

Paris - Day 5: Au Revoir

2011-04-19T17:47:00.000-07:00

I'm not saying we're rock stars, but hopefully the previous posts indicate why, on our fifth day in Paris, we were a wee bit tired. As I've mentioned before, the weather was so absolutely sublime and uncharacteristic of this time of year that it felt criminal to spend our days indoors, namely, in museums. Will you judge us when we admit that we did not step foot in a single museum in Paris? Not the Louvre, not the Musee D'Orsay. We're rotten apples.

That being said, with museums out of the question, we were actually feeling like we'd seen a great deal of Paris, and certainly almost all marquis landmarks and attractions. We kept our last day mellow by hopping on the Metro to explore a new neighborhood, the area around where the Bastille formerly stood in the 11th Arrondissement. It's a pretty good thing that a) we didn't explore this on Day 1 and b) our suitcases (for which we were already charged an overweight fee) were already busting at the seams, because this was the spot for home decor shopping. I found the French Pier 1, a store filled entirely filled antique chairs and settees, and countless other clothing, jewelry, and shelter stores with fantastic prices. There were a number of industrial type supply stores schelling linoleum on huge spools, front doors, etc. It was like finding a lived in, mellow, quaint neighborhood version of SF's SOMA with better prices. Poo.

Daaaaave! Will stopped dead in his tracks to take this picture and it took me a few seconds to realize why.

That's what I'm talking about. Stacks of unruly chairs saying, "please, reupholster me!"

I told you they liked their ham. Or maybe just a good place for Will to pose for another picture. Anyone else notice that he started out annoyed, but eventually came around to requesting and posing for pictures?

Dream store. Green settee back there, wanna come home with me?

Food break. Their menu listed a Bloody Mary - ah, a taste of home! Alas, I didn't think about the French committment to freshness and had a little buyer's remorse when my glass of freshly squeezed, room temperature, iceless, tomato juice was set before me. Provisions of Tabasco were greatly appreciated.

We decided that the Eiffel Tower deserved a gratuitous daytime photoshoot, as well, so we meandered over after lunch to have a look in proper light.

I admire the seriousness with which the French approach the protection of their national landmarks. I think those are machine guns, right? Could they come hang out at the Haight-Ashbury intersection for a bit? I think just a day or two would do the trick.

Out of energy, we walked back to Rue Bellechasse, picked up some junk food from the corner store, and vegged out for awhile. It's moments like these that make me proud to call him mine, folks.

Having firmly appointed Ile Saint-Louis by far my favorite place in Paris, we decided to spend our last evening there. Something of note about Paris is that bars are somewhat rare. Cafes are absolutely everywhere, but so often when you sit down at one of their tables, you feel odd ordering just the glass of wine you wanted as a refresher and end up ordering a tummy-testing cheese plate you don't really want, and certainly don't need. Following a feast of eclairs, framboise tartlette, and Lay's potato chips in hot weather, all we wanted in the world was someplace to sit and have a cold glass of white wine.

Enter Les Fous de L'Ile, our new favorite place to kick back in Paris. Sleepily wandering the streets of L'Ile like the parched little wine junkies that we are, we were thrilled to peep into their windows to see not only tables but - *GASP!* a real bar! We were more delighted to see the cadre of local sixty to eighty-year old's knocking back gin and tonics at the bars at a pace that deserved applause. We had found it. And rejoiced.

Once our happy hands were wrapped around a cold wine glass, our eyes were free to wander and take in the amazingness of their decor. Pink chickens (les fous), blue chickens, chickens covered in painted bottle caps; they were everywhere, each relegated to their own little cubby on the wall. I was kind of in heaven.

We loved it so much after our two-hour leisurely stay at the bar- and the rapid influx of patrons proved its worthiness - that we decided to stay for dinner. The waiter would bring a hand-written giant framed chalkboard to each table with the menu.

Happy to have found such a great place on our last evening that we will surely visit each time we return to Paris, we walked home and enjoyed one last evening view of Notre Dame.

We undoubtedly left our hearts in Paris. What an incredible city. What we wouldn't give back to go every year. But on to Brussels!

More pictures: https://picasaweb.google.com/101913530008494937175/ParisApril92011?authkey=Gv1sRgCPWfmerJsY_q9wE#

Paris - Day 5: Let Them Eat Mont Blanc Cake

2011-04-17T12:44:00.000-07:00

On our fourth day in Paris, we went the way of Napolean and took the city by storm. With only one more full day ahead of us, we wanted to be sure to check off some important sights and classic activities: Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomph, Notre Dame ... sort of big deals that we had not yet visited. Strategizing our plan of action, we set out to conquer the city, itineraries in hand.

Any good soldier will tell you, however, that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. We had heard from many that the best place to get our day’s ration was world-famous patisserie and tea room, Angelina. Founded in 1903 by a very serious Austrian baker, the tea room quickly became famous for its rich hot chocolate and even more so for its out-of-this-world Mont Blanc cake. Throughout its many years in business it has been frequented by Coco Chanel, visiting dignitaries, and has become the destination for just about everybody who’s anybody.

While Will went for the tamer fare of cafe au lait and a baguette, I had to order the hot chocolate and the Mont Blanc cake.

Until this past week, I had never even heard of Mont Blanc cake. I can’t even describe the texture of this incredible pastry/cake/goodness-laden-thing made from chestnuts, and possibly crack. I seriously haven’t stopped thinking about it since and will probably spend the rest of my life trying to replicate their top-secret, vault-guarded recipe at home, in between just dreaming about the real thing. I kicked myself during our entire train ride to Brussels for not picking one up on the way out of town. See what I mean about the secret ingredient maybe just being crack? I wrote an entire paragraph on this thing. Enough.

Drool-inducing goodies for sale at Angelina's store front preceding the tea room.

Mmmmmm....

Moving along, we (ok, I) decided that we didn’t give Galeries Lafayette enough time given how tired we were when we first visited. Sure, at the end of the day, it’s just a mall, but it’s a darn nice mall. I wonder if the Westfield in San Francisco got its inspiration for a domed ceiling from Galeries Lafayette? Thanks to globalization, there wasn’t a whole lot I could buy there that I couldn’t buy at home, and anything else more unique was well out of price range, so I settled for a nice, reasonable grey scarf from their basic accessories section. Will guffawed at the purchase of my umpteenth scarf, but I’ve worn it nearly every day since. So there.

We made our way up Boulevard Haussmann toward a shop called La Vassailerie, recommended to me by my cousin as it sells tons of inexpensive white ware, one of my greatest weaknesses. We didn’t think we could manage getting anything home in one piece, so this was a visit simply to admire. If I lived here, I would definitely get all my dishes here. A French version of a discounted Crate & Barrel is kind of amazing.

Not coincidentally, our carefully planned route up Haussmann would eventually lead us up the Champs Elysses (check) as we approached the Arc de Triomphe (check, check). On the way, we saw a lovely little park, and a few of my favorite things.

Finally, the Arc de Triomphe. It is so much bigger in person than I ever expected!

One quick Metro ride later, we found ourselves in another “it” destination, Les Halles, site of Paris’s former main market place, now home to many unique little shops and cafes.

Also highly recommended by my cousin was a stop in La Drougerie, a smaller, cooler marriage of San Francisco’s Britex (minus the fabric) and the fabulous ImaginKnit. Jill, I’m sorry to say I more or less got thrown out of La Drougerie by a very angry Frenchman for taking a picture of their buttons.... I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I saw the whole wall of jars and before I knew it I had snapped a shot! It’s just as well because if I had stayed, I would have bought the ridiculously cute elephant knit set pattern for babies, and it’s very likely I wouldn’t complete it ‘til all the babies I know are seventeen.

Sufficiently deflated by my Franco-scold, we sought the comfort of ham and cheese baguette sandwiches and apple pastries. All better.

I'm so jealous.

Another beautiful church nearby, St-Eustache.

But it was time to get on to the bigg-un, Notre Dame. We made our way to the massive cathedral, but found that the lines to get in were positively insane. Having seen the inside of quite a few churches already in our days here, we settled for admiring the beauty of its exterior, spires, gargoyles, and all.

Just beyond Notre Dame lies Ile St. Louis, an island within the Siene. I instantly fell in love with this old, quaint, cute, trendy-without-pretension section of Paris. We stopped in a number of the amazing shops down Rue Saint Luis En L’Ile, including the famous ice cream shop, Berthillon, for a refresher cone of framboise and praline ice cream.

Not yet ready to let our feet cry uncle, we made our way back towards the hotel on foot through the Latin Quarter, one of the oldest parts of Paris, so named for its universities and the Latin spoken there in the Middle Ages. I loved its old, gritty, somewhat medieval quality mixed with quaint cafes, bars, and cute shops, like the famous Shakespeare & Co. Antiquarian Books. The many book-loving ladies in my life would love it.

On the Pont des Arts bridge, it is a tradition for couples to carve their names in a lock, attach it to the railings, and throw the keys in the Seine to ensure their everlasting love. Not being the superstitious type, we didn't participate, but they really were admittedly kind of sweet and a nice site.

After a quick freshen up at the hotel and another delicious dinner, it was time to go big or go home. It’s Eiffel Tower photo shoot time, folks. As many know, there was a period of about ten years when I only decorated with Paris-themed objects. Many of them have drifted off to the thrift store over time, but some I just can’t part with, like my Eiffel Tower lamp. If you saw my room ten years ago, you know what a big deal getting to see the real thing is for me. So, naturally, I forgot my camera. Fortunately, we didn’t actually make it on a train before I realized.

We can do this.

Coming out of the Metro station, I spotted it immediately, and was off at a dead sprint, Will hollering behind me.

Gratuitous Eiffel Tower shoot begins in 10, 9, ....

They had already closed to the doors to climb up, but I’d rather just stare at it from the outside anyway. I thought it was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen when it was all lit up; imagine the squealing that occurred when suddenly, at 11pm, it exploded in a burst of flashing white lights. It really was the most beautiful, joyous thing I’ve ever seen. Apparently Parisians - who frankly aren’t impressed by anything - thinks it’s a monstrosity. But I’m not Parisian.

Eventually, Will pulled me away, and we enjoyed a beautiful walk home down the right bank of the Seine. It’s not difficult to see why it’s called the City of Lights.

More pictures: https://picasaweb.google.com/nicoleachapman/ParisApril82011?authkey=Gv1sRgCI_i_5as78_-ugE#

Paris - Day 3: Versailles von Wilhelm

2011-04-17T11:43:00.000-07:00

And now, without further ado, the long awaited guest post from His Royal Highness, the Regent of Ashbury, Sovereign of the Couchness Region, Prince Wilhelm the II.

Yes, indeed. Welcome to my blog post. I should point out at the outset, the blogger responsible for updating and maintaing this site has been appointed by myself, His Royal Highness, to accurately update you all on my comings and goings. I've given her the day off. Well now, where to begin?

This is a statue of my likeness, welcoming you to my home in the country. A little chateau we call--Versailles. Aprês moi, le delugé.

Here is the entryway to my palace. I don't think the court architect gilded enough gold on my gate, however.

Don't mind the servants in the foreground. They're everywhere.

The Queen and myself.

Inside the palace we go...

Isn't my garden view charming?

Here we come to my favorite room, the Hall of Mirrors. As the name would suggest, there are lots of mirrors, and the reflection of light (and me) is the goal.

Hello, all. As it turns out, the Sun King - who began this post several days ago - has little taste for blogging. In the interest of hammering out posts for, frankly, a few more countries in a timely fashion, I will be picking up where Wilhelm left off ....

I love all things Marie Antoinette, so I was very excited to see the famous Queen's bedroom, where she gave birth to all of her children publicly. That sounds fun.

We made our way through a few more ridiculously beautiful rooms to finally reach the famous gardens of Versailles. The pictures do not even do it justice; they are truly a work of art and certainly continue to be a labor of love.

To say that the grounds are "extensive" would be an understatement. They seem endless. As we got further from the chateau to the end of this garden, we saw that it merely overlooked a vast tract of land on which a long, manmade lake sat, bordered by symmetrically planted forests on either side.

What we haven't mentioned is that it was hotter than blazes in Versailles that day; it had to be close to eighty degrees, which means I developed a really attractive heat rash. Should've borrowed one of Marie's parasols. We stopped by the lake for a quick refresher before striking out for our ultimate goals: the Grand Trianon and the Petit Trianon farther into the grounds.

It just keeps going and going ....

We finally made it to our first stop, the Grand Trianon, Louis XIV's personal retreat and more "casual" residence.

Obsessed with this chair! Actually obsessed. This is why there are so many guards around; this would be easy to carry...

The Grand Trianon does not want for pretty gardens, either.

My favorite room! All yellow!!

We next made our way to the Petit Trianon, originally built by Louis XV for his mistress, but later gifted to Marie Antoinette by Louis XVI as a means for her to escape the stresses of the royal court. This was by the far the area of Versailles I was most excited to see, so naturally, our camera died a quick death from our snap happy ways about eight pictures in. I almost cried.

Although the quality is not pristine, at least we had Will's iPhone to snap some more interior shots and more importantly, of the grounds without containing a beautiful pavilion and the delusional hamlet Marie Antoinette created for her amusement. Have to love her.

After that incredibly long day, all that walking in all that heat, all we could muster the energy for that evening was making fun of various products in a French grocery store. Yep, that's us.

We don't consider Brie wheels the size of your head to be "petit."

Ubiquitous ham.

Enough pictures to make you understand why our camera died here: https://picasaweb.google.com/nicoleachapman/ParisApril72011?authkey=Gv1sRgCJWMs7HKn8HhMQ#

Paris - Day 2: Windmills & Wandering

2011-04-12T01:19:00.000-07:00

I don't ever really take many pictures at a time. As I've been reviewing our pictures over the last week, I've noticed that across the now 1,000+ images I wanted to capture, a distinct trend in my photographic interests has emerged. They are as follows: signs with cats on them, signs in general, stacks of old chairs, and dogs. Go figure. Will's posing habits are usually comprised of scowling, intermixed with dancing and/or air-clawing, sometimes combined.

On our second day in Paris (one hour ahead even than London), we woke up really late and it was noon before we got out the door. We've been so fortunate as to benefit from 8:30pm sunsets this time of year, though, leaving us with lots of sunny hours during which to sight-see. On this day we decided to tackle the bohemian quarter of Montmarte, home to the famous Moulin Rouge (red windmill), and Sacre Coeur, the basilica on the hill above.

Moulin Rouge is still one of my favorite movies, so I was really looking forward to seeing the windmill itself. If you haven't seen the movie, may I ask: what's the matter with you? Unfortunately, what we've heard many a time is true: it's not quite true to it's old form anymore. Neon lights, tacky signs, and, well, the fact that it's a functioning strip bar. Fun. Will requested a pose that expressed my dissatisfaction with the sight. Hopefully this does it.

That was that, so we headed up a street winding its way toward Montmarte. It was extremely warm that day, so the hill was less than desirable. The views were well worth-it, though.

Better windmill

As we made our way through Montmarte upward, Sacre Coeur appeared.

Joan of Arc

Not only is Sacre Coeur beautiful on the outside, the view from the tower provides a breathtaking panoramic view of all of Paris. I really do mean breath-taking - can you imagine the stair climb? I didn't take a picture from within the staircase, but the passageway did not sit well with my claustrophobia. It doesn't feel much wider than your shoulders and it winds so tightly that you can't see but a few stairs behind you and before you in the dim lighting. What's amazing about this landmark (and so many we've visited since) is the indentations of footsteps on the staircases. It has been traversed so many times that the stone has worn down in smooth undulating waves across the step. I've never seen that before, and it's kind of amazing when you think about how many people have walked there before you.

View from the top

One claustrophobic downward stair adventure later and a quick stop at the crypt below, we found ourselves in need of some less stagnant air. We made a quick stop for lunch at La Maison Rose and ventured out of Montmarte to the Rue des Martyrs, a long street lined with used book stores, butcher shops, and all kinds of curiosities.

One last view of Sacre Coer from below

Rue des Martyrs eventually led us to area around the Palais Garnier, Paris' former main opera house, and its most epic shopping experience, Galeries Lafayette. I was too tired to shop and too tired to care what anyone thought about me taking a picture in the store, so I snapped a quick shot and we took off, much to Will's delight.

Palais Garnier

More window shopping and dog stalking

I got to see a standard size poodle on a fashionable street in Paris - yes!

Heading back to Rue Bellechasse across the Siene

We went to dinner at L'Ambassade d'Auvergne because it had been recommended in numerous guides, but found it pretty forgettable. What was memorable, however, was getting lost in the Marais while Will looked for a place where he could watch the last snippet of a Chelsea game. We eventually found a little hole in the wall with the game on, and it was definitely a locals spot. An extremely inebriated Frenchman who did not speak a word of English tried to befriend us and was insistent on communicating something about "Oooh-bah-muuh" using indecipherable hand signals and continually showing us his voting record. We gave up trying to understand him and couldn't get him to go away until we took our picture with him.

It was nice to get lost and see a hopping neighborhood, stop for gelato and, in doing so, stalk more dogs.

Phew, what a day! Paris takes a lot out of you when you do it right!

More pictures: https://picasaweb.google.com/nicoleachapman/ParisApril62011?authkey=Gv1sRgCMLhhOvuypfaXQ#

Paris - Day 1: There Are No Words.

2011-04-10T09:44:00.000-07:00

But I'll try.

With our overpacked suitcases in tow, we didn't much feel like navigating the Metro to our hotel upon our arrival in Paris. Taking a cab gave us a much better opportunity to stare out the windows, mouths agape, at the people, the buildings, the Vespas whooshing past, and the seemingly endless number of cafes. We arrived at our hotel, Hotel le Bellechasse, on the Rue of the same name, to find our home for the next five days. Following the cramped, though clean and economical, Spartan IKEA showroom that was our previous flat, we were elated when we saw our room. The whole hotel was designed by Christian LaCroix.

This is more like it.

We couldn't wait to get out and explore, so we freshened quickly and immediately struck out on le Boulevard St. Germain, a huge thoroughfare lined with chic shops and beautiful cafes. The weather was absolutely phenomenal, mid-seventies most of the time. We weren't complaining after four days of London gray.

My favorite storefront of the whole trip - can't get enough of the little welded parapluie.

They even make their tree grates beautifully here.

Will took me to the Cafe de Flore, where Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir would regularly come to have their heated philosophical discussions. Following the, um, interesting cuisine of London, we positively devoured the Croque Monsieur and salad verte put before us like small wolves.

If you couldn't tell, we like it here an awful lot.

Exploring one of the many old Parisian churches.

Wandering continued ...

Lilac is everywhere in Paris and in full bloom. The sheer volume and the warm air has left the entire city dizzyingly perfumed. Will says: "the scent wafts down the streets and mixes with the perfume of the boulangerie." He does enough over the shoulder editing - and we frankly have so many posts left - that I've demanded a guest post from him. Forthcoming.

After our long day of meandering, we circled back to the hotel to freshen up for dinner. We were fortunate that a restaurant that was highly recommended to us, Le Vin de Bellechasse, was just one hundred feet away. The place was hopping, the clientele was cool, and everything smelled delicious. Once again, we ate like wolves and polished off two entrees (starters), two plats (mains), a molten chocolate cake and a bottle of wine. We wanted to be cool, so we couldn't bring ourselves to be seen taking a picture. Will fortunately snuck some clandestine iPhone shots, though.

Will's steak with bernaise

My veal Milanese

Moullex au chocolat

Post-gluttony, we were in need of a walk, so we headed up Rue de Bellechasse to cross the Seine. The bridge Pont Royal led us to le Jardin des Tuileres, near the grounds of the Louvre, all of which was beautifully lit.

As we continued through the grounds, Will brought a little something to my attention. Squealing ensued.

Better pictures of the Tour Eiffel will follow, but trust me, it was an amazing sight to turn around and suddenly see it all lit up across the river.

More pictures: https://picasaweb.google.com/nicoleachapman/ParisApril52011?authkey=Gv1sRgCIDb7PHKndnLywE#

London - Day 4: God Save The Queen {Dramatically}

2011-04-10T01:42:00.000-07:00

Goodness, I can't believe I am wrapping up London as we are on the train right now from Paris to Brussels! We have been too busy soaking up all that Paris has to offer (including sunshine and hot weather) to write anything.

Overall, I wouldn't say that I loved London. I didn't hate it. I just didn't love it. This being my first trip abroad, I think I was expecting to have a unique cultural experience, but I couldn't help but feel like London felt an awful lot like New York - and that's a much shorter plane ride. ;) London is of course unique, with character all of its own, but it truly is a city of the world, a cultural center for people from all walks of life. Don't get me wrong - this is not at all a bad thing. It's just that if you grew up on Jane Austen and Colin Firth/Mr. Darcy, you might find that the idealized "British culture" you were expecting is greatly at odds with what you'll find. To quote Will: "there are a small number of those upper people, but the rest of them are really just pirates." Illusions were shattered, but again, that's not a bad thing. I had hopes for authentic experiences, and that's just what I had: a marvelous time with people from America, Bangladesh, England, France, the list goes on and on ... While I might simply see London as another NYC, it was the people I met, the friends I reconnected with (besos, Renita!), that made it a memorable trip.

Alright, on to the wrap-up. On our last day, I continued to torture poor Will with more must-see tourist attractions, namely the Tower of London and the rebuilt Globe Theatre.

Weapons abound in The Tower. I kept thinking how much my little brother, Travis, would like that!

Prisoners of the Tower, including Elizabeth I herself, were taken by boat via dark underground channels to avoid the tumult of the street and arrived through this gate. That Mary Tudor was sure a mean one.

Our lively tour guide, who spoke very loudly, but even more so when he shouted out "in 1565 so and so was MURDERED by so and so!"

Tower of London is not just the tower where prisoners were held; it encompasses the grounds on which various castles were built to house the Royals throughout the centuries.

Perhaps this could also be used as a battering ram? Hah. hah. hah.

According to legend, should the ravens who live at the Tower (and did so before it was ever even built) ever perish, so shall the monarchy and the Tower of London will crumble to ground in a heap of dust. That being the case, they take really good care of these birds. Their average life span at the tower is 18-24 years, over 10 years more than a raven in the wild. Our guide wanted us to know that as some people take it upon themselves to write nasty letters to The Queen regarding the birds' wings being clipped so they remain at the tower. They seemed like pretty happy, long-living ravens, so I say carry on.

Lots of suits of armor and objects of historical interest within. We saw the crown jewels (um, holy cow, the diamonds), but unfortunately were not allowed to take pictures. The flash could potentially harm the coronation robes sewn with gold thread, so that seems like a reasonable request.

Henry the VIII, you're not fooling anyone.

Tower Bridge.

Quick stop for a caffeine recharge at famous Monmouth Coffee, which we sampled on our market adventure. Blue Bottle, look out.

These don't get old!

The next stop was the Globe Theatre. I went into the gift shop immediately of course, and was like a kid in a candy shop. Or just like me in a gift shop.

The original Globe burned down, and this precise replica was built only in the past twenty years. Although it was not feasible to put it in the same location as the original, the new Globe was built to exacting specifications, down to the use of some mad number like 30,000 wooden pegs (instead of nails) to hold it all together. If you're a Shakespeare lover like I am, it's time to dork out.

This is a working theatre and is under constant care. I was amused that these two young ladies are so artistic as they touch-up the hand-painted marbling, that they still wear their scarves under their paint smocks. Incidentally, the entire globe was built out of wood because this was of course the cheapest way to go. Anything you see that looks like stone, marbling, molding, etc. is actually wood painted to that effect.

Having a little fun, Othello and Desdemona style.

We ended the evening and our trip with a great dinner with Tahiya, Will's mate from LSE, who showed us around the beautiful neighborhood of Angel. It greatly improved my impressions of London. Adorable little neighborhood.

After dinner, we went to an amazing pub situated right on the Canal.

More pictures here: https://picasaweb.google.com/nicoleachapman/LondonApril42011?authkey=Gv1sRgCPfAqJG_jo32EA#

Ready for Paris?

London - Day 3: Back to Basics

2011-04-06T16:11:00.000-07:00

We're on our second day in Paris and it really is heaven, plain and simple. That doesn't mean good ol' Londontown doesn't deserve its proper love, though. We arrived in Paris on early Tuesday afternoon, but I wanted to wrap up our adventures in London.

On our third day in London, we were feeling a little more "mellow" following our epic sixteen-hour second day. Although we got a late start, we wanted to check a few classics off our lists, beginning with some must-see sights, and ultimately ending with a scrumptious English supper in the suburbs of London.

We started our morning (ok, afternoon) at Piccadilly Circus, which is the equivalent of NYC's Times Square for London.

We quickly ventured on and inadvertently walked past the American sports bar where Wilbur had been able to catch Chargers games when he lived here. The incredibly creative "The Sports Cafe."

We made our way to Trafalgar Square, home to the National Gallery, and apparently the popular spot for student protests of the moment. Sadly, photography is not permitted within the Gallery, so I'll have to settle for mental snapshots of Van Gogh's sunflowers and Monet's bridge at Giverny. Will appreciated the opportunity to visit his favorite painting by J. M. W. Turner.

Afterward, we committed ourselves to the virtues of aimless wandering. This little alleyway looked exactly like Knockturn Alley (the counterpart to HP's Diagon Alley), but the picture didn't really capture that. You just had to be there.

Royal Opera House

Rest in the park

Made our way to the British Museum, home to the Rosetta Stone.

Will really wanted to take me to the famous Reading Room, but it was closed. Next best thing? Paper doll set of Kate and Wills in the gift shop! Still kicking myself for not buying this...

Zee Stone. Had to elbow a number of small children to get this shot.

April 4 was Mothering Sunday in England, and we received the kind invitation to join Tim at his family's home near Twickenham for traditional English supper. I had no idea what a treat we were in for ... Not only are Tim's family members as equally nice, gregarious, and witty as he, the food was amazing! I can't say much for English cuisine based on our stay, but this dinner made up for all the bad burgers and endless plates of chips.

Tim's dad, Dave, carving the roast.

YUM. I had no idea Yorkshire Pudding wasn't actually pudding. It's really flaky pastry with gravy on top. Twenty-eight years of missing out.

I was equally charmed by the canine member of the Johnson family, Gandolph, England's cutest Tolkein-inspired Schnauzer. Sitting nicely in the front window, behaving himself.

But simply shout out enthusiastically, "where's the fox, Gandolph?!" and he's at the window pane, huffing up steam, and whining. Amazing. Foxes are like our raccoons; always at the rubbish bin making mess, and G-dog is not a fan.

Wonderful end to day of touring!

More pictures here: https://picasaweb.google.com/nicoleachapman/LondonApril32011?authkey=Gv1sRgCLy91rixh5bLtgE#

London - Day 2: Eat. Walk. Drink.

2011-04-03T15:36:00.000-07:00

Those three words really sum up how we spent our Saturday. Following our feast of Indian food and one long train ride home on Friday night, we were "absolutely knackered" as they would say here on Saturday morning. It was nearly noon before we rallied, made ourselves presentable, and met Renita at her flat in Southwark (pronounced Suth-ick). She took us to the most incredible outdoor market called the Borough Market, home to delicious foods that vendors are most willing to let you sample. We set the tone for the day immediately with a cup of white wine sangria, immeasurable samples of cheese, and tasty bits of duck roasted in its own fat. Yum!

Wow do the English ever like to drink ... already spilling out of the pub so early!

So when in Rome ... the sangria didn't last terribly long, and made all the bustling and elbowing of the Market virtually unnoticeable.

Renita and I promoting the consumption of goose fat.

Borough Market: home to epic sandwiches. I went with cheese and salami. Of course.

Will went for roasted duck. Of course.

In need of a refresher after our market excursion, we meandered over to The Anchor to have a pint on the Thames.

Our seat afforded us a view of St. Paul's cathedral over the river.

We headed toward the London Bridge which, contrary to popular belief, isn't much of a site to see. Pretty plain, actually. But it does provide a great view of Tower Bridge, the one whose image actually comes to mind for most when thinking of London Bridge. Fancy churches are becoming a dime a dozen a this point - there must be hundreds! One whose name escapes me on the way to bridge ....

The more popular Tower Bridge

We crossed over and followed the Thames walking path toward St. Paul's cathedral. I really had no idea how many bridges were here ... sort of sorry to admit I thought it was just the one!

Approaching St. Paul's

There we met up with Tim, Will's mate from his school days here.

Exploring Fleet Street, noting its many pubs and their ubiquitous hanging floral baskets.

One of England's oldest pubs. They're not playing at anything, it's "Ye Olde..." because it was named when people still spoke like that.

Fleet street is quite fancy.

LOVE!

We emerged back out on the main thoroughfare bordering the Thames to reconnect with Renita, who had dutifully departed to watch India versus Sri Lanka in the World Series of cricket. 1. It was nuts! Look at this place - absolutely packed, abound with drunken, chanting cricket fans. 2. Your guess is right, we couldn't find her. I've learned to refer to people here in this state of drink as "absolutely battered." I think it works.

By the time we meandered to the Covent Garden area, ye olde feet were absolutely battered. I needed refreshment and liquid pain-killer. Enter The Globe.

This + discreetly slipping boots off under the table = all better.

Covent Gardens - not gardens, actually, but a former market where farmers and tradesmen brought their goods to town, now a proper mall.

But I don't really do malls ... A pub named The Dog &; The Duck, on the other hand? Yes.

We were joined by another of the boys' mates, Chris. The evening was building momentum.

When Renita called to invite us to her friend's rooftop barbeque in SoHo, I was intrigued, but when the boys expressed to me what an anomoly such an invitation is, I was convinced we had to go. Apparently, it absolutely unheard of to a) have a rootop in London; b) have a rooftop in super trendy SoHo; and c) have weather mild enough to actually enjoy said rooftop.

The guests were primarily young, French, fabulous, and absolutely excited to give us all sorts of recommendations for Paris. C'est magnifique! We felt extremely Euro-cool for the evening. Will gives an enthusiastic thumbs up to gin.

The fabulous Frenchies eventually led us to one of the few clubs still open (most in London close at midnight) that could only squeeze in about forty people. To our amusement, they only played Chubby Checkers, Bon Jovi, and The Beatles, to which the Frenchies danced to with admirable enthusiasm, as if they were a current Billboard chart-topper. Overall, a fun night which left some battered and all knackered!

LOADS more pictures here: https://picasaweb.google.com/nicoleachapman/LondonApril22011?authkey=Gv1sRgCJrkupK51uPVjwE#

London - Day 1: Labels & Lions

2011-04-02T01:20:00.000-07:00

We arrived this safely this morning in London (11am on 4/1 local time)! I'm a nervous flyer, so this being my first trans-Atlantic adventure, I was feeling irrationally (as Will reminds me) apprehensive. Overall, the 10-hour journey was not too shabby, with free in-flight movies of our choice, free hooch, and a getting to experience a beautiful sunset over the Rockies. Upon our descent into London, I couldn't help but notice that even London's track homes are cuter - I gleefully and dorkily observed that every little street and circle was lined with identical houses straight from a Harry Potter movie; no sign of 4 Privet Drive despite my best efforts. We barely slept a wink on the plane despite our best efforts to get comfy in coach, but that didn't stop us from checking in upon arrival, freshening up, and getting on with a long day of sightseeing and gluttony (London has already helped me love Indian food).

Started writing last night, but fell asleep. I am up now a little past 8am and can say we are successfully on London time! Going to post a few pictures right now, then off to meet up with Renita, my friend from Kappa. I'm uploading an album to Flickr, but this slow download situation is really horrendous, and I'm still figuring it out.

We are staying in a little studio inside this larger home in Hammersmith via airbnb.com. Upon our arrival, we were created by our host and his sister's dog, possibly the cutest blenheim cavalier king charles spaniel I've seen, Buster - perfect. Forgot to snap a picture of him, sadly. Will pointed out that he is so cute because he is a "real" version - genuinely English!

Our place in Hammersmith:

We took the Underground to Green Park station, from which we explored the areas around Buckingham palace. With the wedding of the century just 'round the corner, these people are not messing around. So much of the park areas are cordoned off by green mesh while inside workers are furiously tending to every daffodil and blade of grass.

Green Park, the Queen's park

Imperious mansions bordering the park - I wonder what you have to do for a living to afford to live by Buckingham palace. Write books about kid wizards, I suppose.

Buckingham Palace

Lion and Unicorn crest? Yes, please.

At the entrance to St. James' Park

You're an odd duck

The War Museum and home of Churchill's secret wartime bunker

Big Ben

Parliament - absolutely massive!

More lions

Westminster Abbey

The Brits love to label things. A lot. Everything in its right place. One direction here, one direction, there, quite strictly. They also have an overbearing sense of safety and security. Am I secretly English?

Exploring along the Thames

Will is becoming grumpy with all the pictures at this point in the day.

Savory Street, home of The Savoy Tup

A Tup is a male breeding ram, which this man was insistent on letting us know

Will is extremely tired of pictures.

My feet are still swollen from the plane.

London School of Economics, Will's alma mater, producer of cheeky tote bags. I like.

Will worked as a bartender when the bookstore transformed in the evening.

Time for a refresher at George IV, frequented by LSE grad students.

Ok, really must get ready for the day! Check out the Picasa Album (gave up on Flickr) for more pics, including more pictures of Will getting annoyed at my taking pictures, amusing signage, and dinner with Will's LSE friends at Tayyab's.

https://picasaweb.google.com/nicoleachapman/LondonApril12011?authkey=Gv1sRgCLqSo6OkiO6HKQ#

Of Felines & Heartbreak

2011-03-08T20:21:00.000-08:00

* To assuage any concerns straight away, the heartbreak is not related to the cats ...*

Without even realizing it, I had a rather cat-centric weekend. Despite the gloomy weather, I was in the mood for a stroll on Saturday afternoon, having survived doing my taxes. Much to Will's dismay, I knew exactly where I wanted to go.

Since July when Sir Thomas Goldencat began eating RX cat food, I have been meaning to put his unopened bag of regular, peasant cat food to good use. Not far from where we live, up a painfully steep hill, you can find a small protected stretch of thick forest owned by UCSF. Immediately upon striking out on the forest's path, you notice something strange. Scattered around are turned-over plastic bins, a propped up umbrella as a little shelter, and pie tins of kibble. Look a little more carefully and you will almost definitely see a pair of suspicious green eyes following you from the underbrush. Some kind soul (who is also very lucky to live on one of the most beautiful streets in the city) takes care of the the little community of ferral cats that make their home in the forest.

And I wanted to help.....

Armed with labelled kibble, ice tea and a cambazola and pear baguette sandwich from La Boulange, we struck out to do a little good deed and in the process, get rid of the bag that had been sitting on our washer for eight months.

The cats who want for nothing sent their regards from their cozy nest.

The heartbreak came during our walk home. Of all the little side streets we could choose from to head home, I managed to unknowingly select the one with furniture on the curb. Naturally. Here are the beauties .....

And here is the heartbreak: I couldn't bring them home. I just couldn't. In January, I embarked upon a number of exhaustive projects to get the house in ship shape order, and I just couldn't do this to myself so soon. I know. Exquisite matching clawfoot chairs just screaming to be reupholstered. Maturity stinks. I'm still pining for them. It was the right decision, though.

On Sunday, the feline weekend continued when I went to visit a friend's newly adopted friend, Cleo. Don't be deceived by those paws, she's teeny. She is such a sweetheart and so pretty!

Cleo was followed up by one of my favorite kitties in the world, Helmut. Our neighbors had us over for pizza, wine, and cat-play, of course. This boy is a beast!

It's Almost Time!

2011-03-07T11:24:00.000-08:00

No longer will people gasp in horror when they discover that I not only have never been to Europe, but do not even own a passport. The latter situation has been rectified, although to my dismay my photo does make me look like an Eastern European terrorist. Hopefully I'll be able to smuggle cheese back, nonetheless.

Here's the *bestest vacation of my life* trip rundown: four days in Londontown starting April 1, five days in Paris, three days in Brussels & Bruges, and two days in Amsterdam before flying home on April 15. More to come on specific spots we intend to see!

With our March 31 departure date rapidly approaching, I have a long to-do list of random things to buy, learn about, and do to prepare for a two-week absence, some more superficial than others:

* Plan trip activities (nope, still haven't done that)
* Redesign blog - ok, I know that's an odd one. Lately, those flowers and these colors are making me gag. I want to blog and post pics along the way, but I refuse to share this puppy more widely in its un-streamlined state
* Write up cat-care instructions for our wonderful neighbors
* Get lots of golden RX cat food to last through absence
* Get additional keys made
* Connect with London friends
* Do taxes - done!
* Look up on customs stuff - how much cheese can I bring back? This should be further up on the list.
* Learn how to make special orders in French (waiters are going to LOVE me there)* Figure out about sending postcards from Europe (bring addresses)
* Get a haircut - booked
* Make packing list
* Get adapter for electronics, including special one for hair dryer
* Set-up auto bill pay for all bills due on or before 4/15
* Mail rent check
*Shop for .....
Camera - on it's way!
Socks
Black wool coat - ordered on online, please fit, please fit
Flat boots, new black flats
Good black leggings
New big bag - my BR is giving out after 7 faithful years :(
Sunglasses
Watch - pictured above! The last watch I owned had Winnie the Pooh on it and honey bees ticked the time. This was a grown-up step, and essential for keeping up with timezones sans cell phone.

Better get to work on these!

Baby, It's Still Cold Outside

2011-01-11T09:41:00.000-08:00

San Francisco has been hit by a serious cold snap that would take the spring out of anyone's step. I know people say this every year, but it really does seem colder this year than in preceding winters. Sans Christmas trees, stockings, and twinkling lights, the chilliness has lost its charm.

This morning's Design*Sponge roundup of fireplace accesories cozied me right back up to frigid temperatures, though. If only I actually had a working fireplace, I would absolutely have to have these black cat andirons. And by the way, Sears? Who knew? These would be awesome at Halloween, too.

Resolutions & Goals

2011-01-10T19:31:00.000-08:00

I knew I was not going to get these together as soon as I had hoped … and I was right. But better late than never! Funnily enough, after re-reading the diatribe below, my Resolutions & Goals actually seem a little mundane. Maybe I am a whiskey. Here are a few off the top of my head:

* Blog more. Obviously! My evil iPhone wiping all my pictures – TWICE – has really cramped my style. I had good intentions of using the pictures as mental triggers to review my year via the blog since I was so delinquent in 2010, but alas, two years’ worth of memories evaporated like that. I was crushed, but life moves on.
* Learn how to sew.
* Re-learn how to knit (the class was a success but I’ve already mostly forgotten – I’ll be banking on muscle memory). I know a number of cutey-petutey babies (and cutey-petutey babies to shortly be), so I really need to get cracking on this project (and this one!) which are so darn cute they inspired me to take the class in the first place.
* Still haven’t ridden that bike ….
* Cook more. A lot more. I am already well on my way to success with the some beautiful new KitchenAid and Le Creuset gadgets and cookware from my mom and Will. I’ve developed a mild Jacques Pepin obsession that has really inspired me to get cooking. For further inspiration, I’d like to read Julia Child’s “My Life in France” this year and Ruth Reichl’s “Tender at the Bone” based on Jill’s recommendation.
* Stick to the maniacally complex and stupidly daunting, OCD cleaning schedule I’ve created for the house (developed two years ago, adhered to for approximately five days). My plan for success is to designate two hours every Saturday morning to just knock it out (with Will’s help) and have the rest of the weekend to enjoy, guilt-free!
* Infuse more sanity into what feels like an ever-increasingly busy life with a more regimented schedule. This really feeds into other sub-resolutions, like eating breakfast every morning before work, running more, going to more yoga classes, and the overall goal of taking better care of myself as I continue to hurdle at lightening speed toward my late, late twenties and haven’t really ever done so before.
* Spend less, save more (really, who doesn’t have this one on their list?).
* Be a better friend, daughter, sister, and girlfriend. Take more time for greeting cards, phone calls, and staying in touch.
* Take better care of my hands. Between picking at my nails, clumsiness (read: nicks and scabs – HOT), and a stubborn antipathy to moisturizer, they sure look terrible.
*TRAVEL – I’ve seen very little of this big, big world.
*Volunteer, perhaps at the animal shelter (potential danger of accumulating dogs and losing boyfriend very likely).

I have no doubt there are more, but that seems like a decent amount of things to aim toward. I’ll keep you updated on how I’m doing, and maybe you can help try to keep me honest?

All or Nothing

2010-12-27T16:03:00.000-08:00

I have never been good at moderation. Downright terrible, in fact. It seems to be an inherent personality trait that I either put excruciating effort toward something or none at all. At seven, I used every cent of my Christmas and birthday money to buy the entire My Little Pony village - it stretched nearly eight feet in my room. Twenty years later and just a few months ago, I ordered every single Derian item I could get my hands on and have yet to find a place to actually fit them in the kitchen. A few years ago, I was regularly practicing yoga for 6-8 hours per week, even refusing to accept dates that interfered with the schedule, but have not stepped foot in a studio in well over a year. Ever taken a look at the pattern of my blog posts?

Housecleaning is another prime example of my propensity to bounce from extreme to extreme. An astute friend might observe that the first time she sees my apartment it is spotless. As in, go ahead, throw your food on the floor and eat it right there spotless or really, do look under my bed because you will not find a single dust bunny or storage bin spotless. But on her next visit she may notice it looking somewhat less clean, the next visit a little clutter here and there, and the next it being slap you in the face messy. The truth is, as much as I'd like to pretend I've got it all down, that the apartment is always immaculate, that lovely meals are served every evening at seven o'clock sharp, and my hair is always freshly shampooed, that's just not the case. I always strive for, well, perfection and do pretty well for a minuscule sprint of time but gradually slip. More like a landslide than a slip. The pursuit of perfection always ends in burnout for me.

I become acutely aware of this "all or nothing" trait of mine when it comes to making New Year's Resolutions. For as long as I can remember, I have made enormous lists of rather lofty goals every year and, surprise, do not really ever fulfill them in a meaningful, lasting way. I remember being stunned when my roommate in college stated that her resolution was to stop biting her nails. I thought, that's it? What about losing that freshman-fifteen, volunteering at a soup kitchen, getting better grades, or in my case, reading ten books with the goal to learn how to play the stock market and be a billionaire by thirty? Not biting your nails? That won't make you a better version of yourself.

I would assume that anyone who has actually read through this lengthy diatribe sees me moving toward the revelation that I should ease up, not bite off more than I can chew, maybe just try wiping the spot off the cupboard door next time instead of seeing the spot, emptying out all the contents of every cupboard, washing them inside and out with Pine-Sol, rearranging everything and labeling all the shelves accordingly thus rendering me unwilling to ever clean my kitchen again (sad but true story). Nope. The moral of this rant is that I am who I am. I don't think I'll change, and more importantly, I don't actually want to change. I don't want to be a whiskey that mellows with age. I want to be a bitchin' Cabernet that is more awesome with each passing year. Yes, I wrote "bitchin" and yes, I miss the Nineties.

I don't intend to pull any punches this year when making The List. The key to reaching my goals is having systems in place and, not to sound too fascistish (eat it, Palin), to be fairly regimented in daily life. When you're an ambitious but ultimately indolent dreamer like me, you just need that. Luckily, I have a pretty nice co-conspirator who has also resolved to lend a hand in keeping up with the household related resolutions.

The List to follow this week. Although I did write a novel above, so I shouldn't be due to post for another six months.

Daily Derian :: 2

2010-12-02T17:52:00.001-08:00

Starting it off with a bang ... these were my must-have's from the new collection. Best. Coasters. Ever! I *heart* silhouttes.

Daily Derian

2010-11-30T13:30:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, I received notice through a Gilt email that Target - possibly the best store of all time - was expanding it's line of collaborations with famous designers. They do this often, and more often than not I find the offerings somewhat "meh" as my interest in home furnishings and decor steadily supplants a dwindling obsession with handbags and clothes. In late 2008, they collaborated with John Derian, a famous designer and creator of some of the most fabulous eye candy in the world. Known for his decoupage designs using carefully curated antique and vintage prints, he has a large following of fans drawn to his beautiful cakestands, paperweights, bowls, and all sorts of lovely things (check out his website - screw Disneyland, this is the happiest place on earth).

His first collaboration with Target kicked off a frenzy among girls, well, just like me. Every blog was talking about it, everyone was waiting for the goodies to hit stores, everyone was growing frustrated with Target employees who would stare at you blankly when you tried to locate the items ("He's really quite famous - you should know who he is!"). It was tough to obtain anything in store, but somehow (and by somehow I mean I had to drive to Sacramento for a set of coasters) I managed to get my paws on a few treats. With all this madness in mind and furthermore more people exposed to Derian, can you imagine what it was like a second time around this year?

For brevity's sake, allow me to create an outline of how it went when I saw the email notifying me a BRAND NEW collection would be available PRE-SALE on the Gilt site:

Elation! Fear! Joy! Panic!
Set Outlook Calendar with 5 day, 2 day, 1 day, 2 hour, 15 minute reminders. Check.
Perusal of financial situation. Is a savings account absolutely necessary in life? Creation of the Derian budget.
Should I take the morning off work? No, don't be ridiculous. Just don't work at work from 9am until however long it takes.
The morning arrives. Coffee consumed. At work an hour early. Waiting. Compulsively hitting Refresh starting at 8:57am. You must be fast. You must be efficient. Quick decisions or it will be gone within seconds at the hands of greedy girls who won't love it as much as you will.
The virtual gates open! Cakestands! Coasters! Tumblers! Trays! It's all in the cart! What? Oh god! The last card I used on the site was shut down two days ago because of fraud. System not allowing me to upload my new card. SYSTEM CRASHING! A cyber-stampede of women has taken it down! PANIC! Did my cart save? What is the customer service number - why ISN'T IT LISTED?! (People like me is why).
Google to the rescue. Dialing. 20 minutes with a sympathetic befuddled operator who can't help because *dun, dun, dun* it is the office network firewall more tech words not letting the page load to input new C.C. info. I SHOULD have stayed home!
PANIC!!! Idea: WILL! Dialing. Honey, don't ask me questions. I need you to do this for me. (I'm later told Will heard the desperation in my voice and immediately took out his credit card without a word). Success! We're in. My stuff is in the cart - the same thing happened to everyone, so no purchases have gone through, it's all still HERE! JOY!
Waves of relief. Heartrate returning to normal. Eruption of cheers from the small crowd of Special Events ladies that has assembled around my cube (it was just like Rocky!).
Fabulous stuff arrives. All is there. But something's not quite right ... they've accidentally given me three sets of extra coasters that I didn't actually purchase. SCORE.

Later, I also picked up more stuff in-store and on the Target website itself. I know, I have a problem. But the fun (and nutsy) part is that I've photographed it all, and plan to share it with you piece by piece in a new feature I call "Daily Derian."

Day 1: The Desk Organizer

I honestly didn't think I needed this. I actually just bought it because, well, it was there. However, you can see for yourself that I really did not it afterall. My desk is so Zen-blissed out now.

BEFORE: The infamous middle drawer

ENTER: Pretty and functional thingy

AFTER: Awesome

Baby Shower Sneak Peek

2010-08-17T16:23:00.001-07:00

I had the pleasure of hosting my very first baby shower this past Sunday. What better way to celebrate new life than trying new crafts? The lovely mommy-to-be is our neighbor, Juliette, who is a photographer/graphic designer/impossibly cool person. No pink junk here! The pressure was on.

Given what mum does for a living, really nice pictures will eventually follow, but for now, here's an iPhone snap of our entryway, and my first attempt at tissue paper pom-pom dahlias!

I Heart Crafting

2010-06-24T18:19:00.000-07:00

What I apparently do not *heart* is keeping up on my blog. :( For my teensy cadre of folks following, so sorry for the absence. Work, flu, life, etc.

Thought I'd dip my toes back in the water with something quick and simple: a Valentine's Day craft project I did (obviously awhile ago). Inspired by this incredibly beautiful storefront window that was featured on Design*Sponge, I spread some Valentine cheer of my own with paper rose adorned boxes, filled with some homemade sweet treats.

Scissors + paper + glue gun = surprisingly easy little paper roses!

No one likes an empty box, though - even a pretty one - so I whipped up two Martha confections: chocolate truffles and raspberry financiers.

Mmm, the financiers were so nutty and delicious! I need to make these again.

I experimented with two different types of chocolate for fun, but the real key is the different brands of cocoa powder that - all being different colors - create different color truffles once they are rolled in the powder.

*** I'll try to be better, scouts honor.***

Dunt, nah, nah, nah

2010-04-19T16:33:00.000-07:00

(Why I don't go to Citrus Club for the noodles.)

For those who don't understand my sad little attempt to write out a beat, or who don't recognize the glowing orb of pink deliciousness above as a Cosmopolitan, I am writing to have an uber-girly, equally dorky moment of excitement over Sex & The City II coming out next month! I admit that I was not excited about the sequel at first. Have you ever seen the sequel to Bridget Jones' Diary? Craptastic. Alas, Jill and I were bobbing along on Friday night to the beatlicious sounds of "Empire State of Mind," and SATC II immediately came up. Prompted by Jill's insistence that the preview and naturally the outfits contained within were sensational, I had to take a peek ...

OMG! Phew, that's out of the way, now. While I liked the outfits just fine, I had a serious OMG! girl squeal moment when I saw that "Aidan" makes a significant reappearance. Officially excited.

Also, I wanted to give an update on my April goals; so far, so good!

Composting - I got a super awesome, tricked out new trashcan yesterday. Just need to get the Biobags to go in it and we'll be in the "Gooooood for yoouuuuuu" zone immediately. (South Park? Anybody?)
Knitting Class - I am all signed up for the ImagiKnit class that starts May 3rd. I'll be a knitting fool in no time! If you'd like to know why I chose ImagiKnit, please take a look at a picture of their head knitting instructor.
Posting More - I got off to a good start last week then dropped off ... My goal is to try to post on my lunch hour since it's challenging to carve out the time once at home. If you've ever tried to type with a 12lb. cat on your keyboard, you know what I mean. Also, I think I may have just set a record for my most vacuous post ever. Score!

Who Are You Calling Chicken?

2010-04-06T12:36:00.000-07:00

Adorable photo courtesy of the We Like It Wild post on Design*Sponge.

Sometimes The Universe tells me things. This week, it is telling me to keep chickens. Lest you believe I have meandered into a mental state similar to that of many Haight-Ashbury "residents," I will explain.

First, it was last week’s charming post by the ‘We Like It Wild/Studio Choo’ girls on Design*Sponge with a creative Easter decoration idea that I unabashedly cribbed for my table settings. They were inspired to create these tiny little arrangements after a visit with a woman who keeps chickens in nearby Marin County. Thus, it begins.

Photo from the Design*Sponge post

Second, it was strolling through the Ferry Building Farmer’s Market with Wilbat looking for brown eggs to replicate the goodness above and being bowled over by the price of a half dozen organic eggs. They were $4 for 6 little old eggs and I thought Will was going to flip out (and this was when he thought I was buying them for consumption – imagine when I told him my real plans!).

Third, it was checking out the Blogger feed this morning and seeing that Ashley English of ‘Small Measures’ has a book coming out on keeping chickens. Do I need it? No. Not only do I not have an outdoor space in which to keep a hen, I’m pretty sure it would be a serious violation of numerous zoning laws. Do I want it? Hell, yes. I would not mind getting her guide to home canning, either.

Photo from Ashley's post on her new books - check it out here!

Clearly, The Universe’s message to me is quite obvious. Though, I know what you’re thinking: "Oh, Nicole. Dear silly Nicole with your odd plans … You believe you want a chicken to lay you fresh eggs every morning and name Bess or Ruth or something classically 1950’s sounding, but be reasonable. You’d most certainly find yourself in over your head with the care and maintenance of a clucky hen." And perhaps you’d be correct. But perhaps you would be surprised to know that I have some chicken-raising experience, or at least more than your average bear. What might not surprise you would be to hear that when I owned the aforementioned chickens, I owned ten. Really, though, when a little girl visits the Fisco in Chico and stands before a giant aluminum basin loaded with adorable yellow chicks peeping away and scrambling around and over each other for the prime heat lamp spot, can she be expected to take less than ten? As can be expected, ten chicks were darling, ten teenage chickens were a bit precocious, and ten grown chickens (particularly those that turned out to be roosters) were a bit much. Luckily, my Dad found them new homes on a local chicken farm.

The moral of this little peep (pun intended) into my childhood is to reveal that I both have chicken-related experience and have learned my lesson about reasonable quantities. Regardless of that important lesson, I believe I will find myself Rhode Island Red-less, Hippy-Chicken-less, and otherwise hen-less for quite some time. Thus, I will leave you with some lyrics from my apparent anthem, Feist’s "Mushaboom."

Unpacking the bags and setting up
And planting lilacs and buttercups oh
But in the meantime we've got it hard
Second floor living without a yard
It may be years until the day
My dreams will match up with my pay…

Why, hello. I didn't see you there.

2010-04-05T16:51:00.000-07:00

The date of my last post? February 19th. Shameful and without excuse!

So, here is an update of the past 1.5 months ….

What I’ve Done:

I found gainful employment (and a paycheck). I work for a non-profit. Shocking! In fundraising. Unheard of! For a cancer organization. Get out of town! Yes, I have indeed landed in a lovely position at The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and, YES, I work in San Francisco. Finally, after almost 5 years in Oakland! I now coordinate the Light The Night Walk in San Francisco. I work with absolutely lovely, fun people towards a great cause within the confines of my home city. What more is there to say? (Except, "Nicole, quit asking me for money for your blasted fundraisers …")

I mastered another recipe courtesy of Ms. Martha that Will loves: Roast Pork Loin with potatoes, shallots, and mustard gravy. Post and photographic evidence to follow.
I have become acutely aware that Spring has sprung in San Francisco. I have always been an Autumn-lover, but something about this Spring has really struck my fancy and made me feel awake and rejuvenated.

Today is Will and I’s 2.5 year anniversary. Past this point, I will no longer be counting half years because it’s just silly. The apartment is loaded to the gills with flowers from Easter, so you’re off the hook, buddy.

Learned about wonderful baby news from a friend who inspired me to blog in the first place. Congratulations, Brooke!!!!

Explored the finest craft supply places in SF with an unscathed Jill following her safe return from South America.
Saw Alice in Wonderland in 3-D with my mom. Quiet, haters, I loved it!

Raided the Farmer’s Market for an Easter feast.

Successfully re-habbed a piece of furniture from Craigslist. Future career? You be the judge. (Post and pictures to follow!)

What I’ve Not Done:

Ride that bike.

Decorate my new office (ok, cubicle).

Used the ridiculously cute knitting patterns from the ridiculously cute book I bought when Jill and I visited ImagiKnit (because I do not know how to knit).

Goals for April:

Ride that bike (helmets be damned).

Do the "House Tour" posts I have always meant to do.
Start composting.

Drink 64 ounces of water every day.

Back-Post like gangbusters:
*The remainder of my Golden Gate Park pictures from my brief yet blissful time of unemployment.
*Valentine’s Day crafty mccrafty-ness.
*An intriguing (to me) examination of neighborhood displays.
*Other stuff upon a more careful perusal of my iPhone snaps.

I would not mind using that canner I bought in, umm...., September? Apple butter? Strawberry jam? Who knows. I just want to use it.

Not posting about a bike-related injury would be grand. No seriously, last time I was on a bike I broke my elbow and it made for a pretty lame post-high school graduation summer.

Maybe just a little tinge of slightly-less-white from a fabulous Vegas getaway with my best girls!

Take a knitting class from ImagiKnit (chance this could fall into May).

Keep smelling all these beautiful Spring flowers that send me into a dreamy daze of happiness.

Incidentally, the picture above is of Peter looking longingly at Hugh Grant. No obvious connection to the post that I can see, but let's face it, we all stare at Hugh.

Haute Wheels

2010-02-19T16:18:00.000-08:00

Through fortuitous means, I may now call myself the proud owner of a sweet bicyle -- and some would say a true San Franciscan. Will's boss happened to be looking to pass along his wife's beautimous and barely used bike and I just happened to be in the passive market for one (passive due to the hefty price tags at huffy SF bike shops). The price? Gratis because, well, they are just about the nicest people ever.

I love the retro seat, the handle bars, the BASKET (!!!), but most of all, I just might love the glorious story of its homecoming. As it turns out, you cannot actually take a bicycle on the usual train Will takes and the bus wasn't coming for awhile .... so he rode it home. This bike. This exceptionally girly bike. In his work clothes (no helmet - eep!), all the way up crazy Market Street from the Financial District to the Haight. Boyfriend of the week award goes to the Wilbat!

(Jill, is this perhaps Will's attempt to break even with Dave's miraculous, self-initiated toile pillow purchase?) :)

Cherry Blossom Monday

2010-02-11T15:02:00.000-08:00

Every year that I have witnessed Winter slowly transition into Spring in San Francisco, I have admired the plethora of beautiful blooming cherry trees dotted all around the city. You may not have noticed before, but there are loads of them absolutely everywhere you turn. Empirically, cherry blossoms are dandy to look at, but put them against the backdrop of some pretty Victorians I could never afford to own and you have yourself quite a pretty picture. I have always wanted to take a shot of them before - just as quickly as they appear - they disappear in a torrential downpour and/or a windstorm that *almost* makes you miss living in San Diego. So, four years later, I finally took a picture.

Ta-da...

Per the scattering of petals, here is Elwood demonstrating the absolute necessity of timely cherry blossom capturing.

Is There an App for That?

2010-02-10T10:09:00.001-08:00

You would think that the sheer virtue of being unemployed would yield a greater output of posts, but obviously that has not been the case for me. My first week of unemployment was absolutely packed with a phone interview, two in-person interviews, more job applications, a birthday facial and massage, a long overdue haircut, Super Bowl party planning and shopping, and house-cleaning ad infinitum.

Rest assured, I'm not complaining about the interviewing (except for having an in person interview on my very first day of unemployment - what's with the no sleeping in??), and I am certainly not complaining about the birthday pampering; however, I was starting to wonder when this fabled Being and Nothingness would kick in.

At long last, this past Monday I found that my laundry list was absent of anything (even laundry) and I was free to do one of those "something I've always wanted to do but never had time for" things. Enter the tales of Adventure Dog and Nature Girl. Elwood, my aging digicam, and I struck out for Golden Gate Park in search of fresh air and a few good shots. I have to jet off for a second round in-person interview shortly, after which I will post more pictures from GGP.

For now, here are a couple mystery pictures. And by mystery, I mean I don't know what the hell kind of plant or bird that is. When I'm in the store and I hear a song I don't know, I can whip out the dilapidated iPhone, fire up the "Shazaam" app, and have an answer to my query in seconds. Duran Duran, a-ha! Not so much with the unidentifiable flowering shrub or the cute birdie in the Shakespeare Garden. For now, I will call that plant Butterfly Brush and the bird a thrush - mostly because I like the words. If anyone can better inform me, by all means, DO!

Bon Anniversaire

2010-01-26T14:39:00.000-08:00

Today, I am officially in my late twenties. I have been a bit of a moper about that fact for the past few weeks, but I am over it. Instead continuing my woe-is-me routine about not feeling like I have a direction or clear plan in life right now (which is never too much bother to anyone usually until these silly birthdays come along), I am going to embrace the moment, toss on my stillettos, have some cake, and a few too many cocktails.

In a few hours, off to Zuni Cafe for a nice dinner with my Wilbat.

In a few days, out of this deplorable office on and to better things!

Thomas - completely unrelated, but he's cute, and unlike the rest of us, has learned to embrace the aging process and his love handles.

"Merde, Il Pleut!"

2010-01-19T15:23:00.001-08:00

Earlier this afternoon, I drew down my office blinds to combat the sunshine glare (yes, I am awkwardly still working here 'til the end of the month). About twenty minutes ago, when I realized how ridiculously dark my office had become, I reeled the blinds up to see that the formerly sunny sky had blackened with the most sinister looking storm clouds I have seen in quite some time. Seriously, I keep expecting to see a dementor or Helena Bonham Carter on a broomstick whiz by. It's hailing like mad right now, and I'm looking at my pathetically miniscule umbrella that practically folds down to a teacup and wondering how it's going to hold up in 1.5 hours. I am seriously wishing I had the following bad-ass model .....

It's amazingly cheeky and I NEED it! What does it mean, you ask? "Merde il pleut" translates to "Shit, it's raining!" Obviously, I'm in love with it. It comes in about twenty different vibrant colors, but why in the world would I want any other than canary? I saw a girl carrying it this morning at the bus stop and am now thoroughly puzzled as to how she came about owning it. After a quick Google search, I found that though The Umbrella has had much deserved adoration heaped upon it throughout the fashionable blogosphere, it can only be purchased in Montreal or on a singular low-tech Canadian website. Not convenient. Merde!

"Everytime God Closes A Door ...

2010-01-07T16:23:00.000-08:00

He opens a window. His heating bill must be outrageous!"

--Stephen Colbert.

A. I think Stephen Colbert is hilarious. B. I got laid-off today, so it's rather appropriate.

As I am still processing this new development, I am not going to write much other than to say that everything is fine and I am viewing this as a wonderful opportunity. I have always played it safe and done the responsible thing (like being employed full-time before I even graduated college), so maybe this is my chance to do something uncharacteristically brash. What that is, I have not quite flushed out yet, but it looks like I will have some time on my hands coming up shortly to do just that. :)

Favorite Recipe: Italian Pot Pie(s)

2010-01-07T16:04:00.000-08:00

I got brave and switched this one from Martha Stewart up a bit. If you link to the recipe you will notice that it calls for onions and carrots. Don't like those - they have to go. Secondly, to make it more hearty and substantial, I added some al dente elbow macaroni to the pie. I also made life just a teensy bit easier by putting this in one properly sized casserole dish - the fewer dishes to do, the better. Lastly, if you're wondering, I most definitely did make my own sauce. :)

Recipe Favorite: Saffron Orzo with Asparagus

2010-01-07T15:49:00.000-08:00

Thanks to the invention of the internet (you always did have my back, Al), I have tried to expand my culinary pursuits beyond the usual sauteed chicken breast with rice, or perhaps sauteed chicken breast with potatoes. Everyday at about 3pm (or sometimes as early as 10:30am), I am asked the question: "Umm ... so what do you want to do for dinner?" Translation: "What are you going to make for dinner?"

When posed this question, I have been more recently turning to my two favorite sites for recipes: Epicurious and, you guessed it, Martha Stewart. True, I have a plethora of fabulous cookbooks at home, but they don't allow me to easily search for recipes containing certain ingredients or, more importantly, help cure worktime boredom. It has been fun to expand my horizons and try my hand at new dishes, so I thought I would start sharing some of my favorites that have actually turned out.

I have already made Saffron Orzo with Asparagus (three times now due to popular demand) and it has become a favorite dinner staple already. I love cheese, Will loves prosciutto, and it makes a nice, comforting hot meal. I recommend doubling the recipe because it's delicious reheated the next day for lunch. Also, I have found that it tastes pretty much the same with or without the saffron, so no worries if you don't keep it in the house.

Link to the recipe here.

A Whiter Shade of Pale

2010-01-04T14:03:00.000-08:00

Actually, just the opposite. That title would more appropriately address my complexion. Over the holiday break, I took some time to turn our coffee table into a slightly darker shade of brown.

For some reason, I convinced myself that only an oval coffee table would do for our living room, so when I snagged this one off Craig's List for only $20, I was pretty stoked. Not only does it fit the bill shape-wise, it is perfectly on the demure side for the limited space we have. The only problems were the plethora of scratches and ring marks and the not-so-yummy honey colored stain that was clashing with our mahogany entertainment console a mere 2.5' away. My solution was same one that I bring to most problems: paint it glossy white! All scratched and banged up? Paint it glossy white! We're ending fiscal year 2009 in a $110K deficit? Paint it glossy white! You get the picture.

Will? Not so much a fan of all the glossy white in our home. He really wanted to keep it the original wood and thought it would be nice to match the entertainment console. And so, in an act of selfless love and devotion, I let him get his way on a decor thing just this once, and set out for Cole Hardware for varnish stripper, a drop cloth, stain, and varnish. Regrettably, what I did not buy was a facemask. Still getting sawdust out of my ears and nose. Amazingly healthy.

With cats properly secured away from my work area (the kitchen table - ironic?), my drop cloth in place, and the mouse sander on stand-by, I went to work .....

BEFORE: when will people learn to use coasters???

STEP 1: letting a thick coat of varnish stripper do what it does best. Later I noticed that a little of it had eeped out around the bottle and eaten off the label. Very glad I had some yellow rubber gloves on hand.

STEP 2: no picture of this one because I probably forgot due to being loopy off the toxic fumes .... Though this varnish remover was an absolute miracle potion/toxin, it took some serious elbow grease to scrape off the varnish. It was actually decently effective to get it off the tabletop, but it was almost impossible to get it off the curvy (but adorable, nonetheless) legs, which meant extra sanding later.

STEP 3: bring on the sanding! While the stripper effectively removed much of the varnish, it of course does not remove the wood stain. It needed to go! Enter more elbow grease. Here's the table after over two hours of sanding. It took about another hour to get it completely polished off around the legs. Poor naked coffee table...

STEP 4: this is just one coat of stain! In the store, I was actually unsure whether or not the stain would be dark enough, but it sure as heck as was due to my sanding method (see "Lessons Learned" below). Please note that it is dark outside ... still working ...

STEP 5: in the morning, once the stain is nice and dry, I applied the first coat of varnish. Then I continued to do that every morning for the next two mornings, for a total of three coats.

Overall, I am extremely happy with the final result and so glad I did not take the easy way out by painting it white. Sure, it has a few imperfections, but they are reminders of a novice project well done.

LESSONS LEARNED:

1. They are not kidding when they say wear a mask and ensure ample ventilation.

2. Varnish stripper is good at removing stuff. Like skin. Wear gloves!

3. Using coarse sandpaper for the entire project takes less time, but the rough surface soaks up more stain than a smoother one, yielding a darker color than you may have intended.

4. Sometimes boys are right.

Introducing Blitzentini the IV

2009-12-16T15:48:00.000-08:00

Bit of a shoddy iPhone picture, but regardless, here it is: Blitzentini IV.

This is Wilbur and I's third tree together, and second tree that we have carried for six blocks on foot from Cole Hardware. We officially decided this was the best of the three thus far.

Happy Christmas, everyone!

The Felt Craze Continues!

2009-12-16T15:24:00.000-08:00

Though minus any actual effort of my own - please see "About Me" regarding projects. However, the same cannot be said of my far more felt-devoted mum.

Here are some pictorial updates of her latest felt creations ....

Stylin' dog coat for Elwood (in progress)

Pretty in Poinsettas Pillow

Matching Table Runner

And matching stockings for Wilbat and I to appease my monogram obsession! (I cut out some of the shapes so I helped a teensy bit)