Nerve wrackracking.

"Is it nerve racking or nerve wracking? This is the kind of thing I think about at 3AM when I can't sleep."

"It's nerve wracking. Nerve racking would be kicking nerves in the balls."

Sheets, blankets, pillows, DUVETS

I have a thing for bedding. Egyptian cotton, jersey cotton, organic bamboo...I love them all. But I especially love my bamboo sheets. Green Earth Bamboo says it is "softer than cashmere, silk and Egyptian fabrics" and they aren't lying. It's like having satin sheets without being sleazy.
But my love does not stop at sheets. No, no it does not. I love duvets and comforters and blankets and throws and quilts and pillows and shams and bedskirts. Even those mattress covers make me smile all mushy gushy like. Every year for about ten years I've been buying myself a new duvet or comforter not just because I get bored of mine but because there are SO MANY out there that are deserving of love and if I stay with one too long all the rest will get jealous.


Usually I just hit up Ikea when the desire for a new duvet hits me because really, I can't afford to scoop up $300 Anthropologie ones like this every 12 months even though it gives me butterflies in my tummy just thinking about curling up with it every night. Even the name is dreamy: Featherfew.



And then there is this beauty. "The Wentworth Collection." C'mon! If Wentworth wasn't a street near the house where I grew up this one would make me feel like royalty. Srrriously. But again...$280? No can do, buckaroo.

But then...THEN...there came the pin-tuck organic cotton duvet in Clay. Perfection. And not a gazillion dollars. And mine. It's mine! All mine! Well and Sketti's, too, because she fell in love at the same moment I did and we are kind and sharing people and there was plenty of duvet love to go around. UPS assures me it will be waiting for me when I get home and I really, REALLY can't wait to go to bed.

The Return!

Miss me?

I'm back.

Not that I ever actually went anywhere.

I just sorta took a vacation.

Or rather, staycation.

Of the blogging variety.

But I am back.

And I missed you!

But thank goodness for Twitter, right?

Inadequate templates

Whenever I get a new cellphone my mom insists on getting the exact same model so she doesn't have to figure out how to work it by herself.

(FYI that statement really has absolutely nothing to do with my post other than the fact I'm going to write about a feature on the most current phone. Whatever. It's my blog I'll cry if I want to! Er...do what I want?)

Last night when I couldn't fall asleep I decided to putz around with my phone, mostly because the computer was too far away. If you hit about 17.5 buttons you can get to the option to insert some template text into a message. Scrolling through the list almost all of them feel really abrupt. Who wrote these things? I'm pretty sure there's only one that sounds anything like something I'd actually say. I'll let you figure out which it is...

Call me back.
Where are you now?
I am on the way. Please wait.
Urgent! Please contact.
I love you.

Grandma Lebowski

Sunday I called Grandma to wish her a happy grandparents' day (I know, I'm pretty sweet) and asked her about her weekend. Usually she tells me about her progress on the latest knitting project, playing with her great-grand nieces or having dinner at the Pierpont Racquet Club with her friends. This time she said, "Last night I netflixed The Big Lebowski. And I LOVED it! Those dudes were funny. I mean, they used the f-bomb a little too much for my liking and the whole thing was a little raunchy but it fit with the characters so I didn't mind too much."
"I errrr you ummm, really? The Big Lebowski?" I sputtered, trying not to laugh.
"Yes, I know. I figured you'd all be embarrassed by your grandmother but I wanted to see it so I did."
"Grandma, I'm not embarrassed. I'm proud!"
"Good. Now let's talk about that USC Ohio State game..."