Fabric store recommendations?

This post is mostly geared to Chicagoans, but anyone, please, pipe up.

I'm venturing the 'burbs this weekend and it got me thinking, out side of Vogue in Evanston, Quiltology on Halsted and some place in Batavia that scared me by the vast amount of calico in stock, I'm pretty ignorant to fun fabric and quilting stores.

I'm in to hip, funky and modern prints. If it looks like it belongs in Little House on the Prairie, or is a batik, it's probably not for me. (Not that there's anything wrong them...)

So, what say you girlies? Pony up the deets.

So, what's worth the gas in the area? Anyone? Bueller?

One more!

I'm already buying a clothes line for the fabric bowl, so I may as well go all the way (snicker) and get clothes pins to make these lovely paper holders and magnets.



Tres cute, no?

Flowers that never die! GENIUS.

Last post and then I swear, swear, swear, I'm firing up the laptop and doing after-hours work. But before that, what do we think about this?

Or this, its bolder-hued sibling?

Personally, I think both are cute as can be. And I'm all about folk art. But is $50 for a bouquet of six a good deal? Maybe for flowers that are always fresh....

Bowls!? Pillows?! Drinkies!?

I have a three-day weekend rapidly approaching, and if I have my way, I'll spend it covered in thread while sipping wine. (Possibly with a bubble bath thrown in for merit.)

I'm planning to start off the weekend with a humor reading, conveniently located in a bar, headlined by my one of my favorite authors. (Deets are here, Chicago peeps, if you want to meet up.)

Then there's a co-worker's "Fabulous, Slightly Blasphemous Martini Luther King Party" on Sunday, where the slogan is: "A martini delayed is a martini denied."

Yep, because that's how I roll.

But in between, I want to sew, sew, sew.

I totally want to try making this fabric bowl, featured over at Craft Stylish.


OMG, isn't it cute???

And I've already written about my intense, overwhelming need to decorate and re-nest. Which, btw, has been heightened since I saw this super-cute pillow over at Chickpea Sewing Studio, which is the perfect inspiration for my effort to re-cover my own pillows.


I also have an ambitious plan to unbury my car from its icy encasement and head over to Ikea, which, who knew, has FABRIC BY THE YARD? Of course, the Scandanvian's won't let me buy it on line so I have to trek my ass way the hell out to the suburbs. But, wouldn't you do it for a chance to own this at $6.99 a yard??

I know! Me, too!!

Ack! Why can't it be the weekend already?!?!

Vintage winter

Tomorrow's high is -1. That's right. The high temperature won't crack zero. That doesn't even account for the wind chill.

So, while I sip tea and procrastinate on writing something for work, I thought I'd share with you some great vintage winter pictures, courtesy of Millie Motts.

I like to think that this is a very chic 1940s or 50s version of my imaginary alter ego, running down the mountain to work, or to meet some handsome intellectual professor/scientist type while discussing global affairs and politics.

Friends Rock.

I'm an animal lover, which is why Cuteoverload is pretty much my version of Lexapro. I'm also a sarcastic, snarky, sassy girl.

Which is why this book of postcards is one of the best gifts ever, purchased for me by my super-fantastic work pal who thought I needed some cheering up. It arrived at the office today via the lovely folks at Amazon. And I totally cackled for a good 10 minutes before hobbling over to share the entertainment with my equally minded coworkers. Howling laughter was heard for a better part of the afternoon as the book was passed from desk to various desk.

Among the gems:




Aren't friends who know you the best thing ever??

Graceful, I am not. Or, why winter can suck it.

Regardless of whether I completely change my tune in the dead-still heat of summer and get all wistful for autumn and crisp air (sweaters! yay!) and shit like that, let me go on record as say this: WINTER CAN BITE MY ASS.

Seriously.

Winter in Chicago is like a special breed of sadistic, pain-enducing, alcohol-swilling, blanket-layering, extremity-numbing cold. (I like to refer to this as bitch-ass cold.)

I know it's not Alaska and there are other places with latitudes worse than mine where it sucks even more. But that does not keep me from frequently (and with an expert amount of only child finesse) complaining to all my friends who live in the practically tropical climates of the Mid-Atlantic and deep South.

In fact, my complaints have become so standard that we have an unspoken deal. I am given unfettered complaining rights from roughly October until mid- to late-April. And then, it's their turn. I have to shut up and listen to the freakishly hot and humid stories of life in Tennessee, Georgia, Arkansas, Mississippi, and Alabama, just to name a few. I think it's a fair trade.

In addition to cold-weather bragging rights, Chicago's winter also involves learning to navigate the slip-and-slide that is virtually any flat surface within a day of snowfall. Sure, shoveling sidewalks is required by law. Does it happen? Riiiight.

Twelve hours after flakes fall, unshoveled sidewalks start to get slick. Twelve more and shoveling is almost impossible after all the trampling. Twenty-four more and you may as well strap skates to the soles of your shoes to try to make it to the bus stop without a concussion.

This makes for particularly dangerous walking when you're someone like me, who might be charitably described as gracefully challenged. (I have on more than one occasion been called a walking bruise. Also, a gazelle. By, um, my mother. Seriously, there was the Ass-Over-Elbows Escalator Fall of 2006 that almost required an ambulance; the Gushing Mountain Bike Injury the summer before that really should have involved stitches. There's a list.)


Anyway, this is a long-winded complaint that leads to this:



That's my knee cap after a rather stunning fall this morning on the bus. Ice-caked shoes and a snow-soaked floor are not a good combo and I bit it. Hard. Making matters worse, the bus had barely started to pull away from my stop. I really should have just gotten off at the next stop and hobbled the hell home to mope in the comfort of my bed.

But noooooo.

Fast forward 45 minute to me, grateful to have shaved in the last millennium, sitting at my desk with with my jeans and long-johns rolled up while icing my bare leg. Classy.

Is it spring yet?

A change will do you gooooooood.

I'm in the mood for some serious redecorating. It started with the breakup. As a remedy, I decided to turn my dining "room" (a designation, which by anyone's standards, is charitable) into a sewing studio and the unofficial headquarters of Pieces of Yay! Designs.

On deck: new paint in the pale-yet-warm-and-buttery yellow variety.
I am turning a found bookshelf into an all-purpose storage center. I want to paint it a cerulean blue and store my stash (which, btw, is neatly organized in oh-so-cute wooden clementine boxes), my sewing books, my sewing box and supplies and my sewing machine.

When I went to Atlanta for New Years, I picked up some super-fun folk art pieces that I can't wait to hang on the wall. And yesterday, during a pop in to Anthropologie (aka, Noodle's Hall of Happiness), I snagged this super cute small rug at 50 percent off.

Anyway, now I'm like a girl obsessed. I'm not feeling my living room decor that much any more, it's a little too, er ... my mom. (No offense, Momma. Your style is AWESOME.) But I just want a fresh start as I reclaim my space. I'm not talking going overboard. I love my space. I love my stuff. I just a coat of paint to get rid of the bland beige walls. Some curtains. A new area rug. And maybe a new big picture to hang up behind the sofa.

I've already re-arranged furniture. And now I also want to paint the living room a similar yellow. I love the Anthropologie curtains, which of course I cannot afford. And then there are these super cute ones at Ikea, which also make my heart skip a beat.

I also fell in love with this:


And this:


Of course, at $400 for a 8x10, cost prohibitive is pretty much an understatement. (Have I mentioned that I am demonstrably broke, so this entire post is mainly just to put words to my interior decorating fantasy.)

Still, I just want _ and desperately need _ change. I'm planning to use some of my fabric to recover some outdated pillows. I'm working on quilts. I already have a kick-ass table runner that I made.

Anyway, the natives are restless. And I can't wait to bust out the drop cloths and the turpentine. Bring it on, baby!

SNL tries to save Broadway

Anyone catch last night's episode of Saturday Night Live?

My favorite sketch by far was their "Save Broadway" skit. Totally entertaining for a theater dork like me, right down to the fact that they met in a back room at Sardi's.

OMG! Pink! Flowers! (The Girly Girl revealed.)

I was bored this week. I thought I had a bunch of evening plans, but they fell through. The gym is too crowded with new people, so my spinning class is full by the time I get there after work. There's the aforementioned pants issue. Oh, and I had no wine. Mainly, I was in a funk.

(Did I mention that we also got eight million feet of snow? All of which is piled on top of my car.)

So, I hunkered down and decided I needed an easy-to-complete project. I'm not sure why, but I wanted it to be pink. Maybe it's because my pink stash is getting out of control. Or I'm unknowingly trying to boost the estrogen in my house. Whatever the reason, this is what I came up with:



The pattern is flea market fancy, by the lovely Amanda Jean over at Crazy Mom Quilts. It's totally simple to sew and cut and comes together really fast. (I started Thursday evening and finished Friday night, with a full day of work in between.)

I loved how she used white sashing in one of her's, but I wasn't going to leave the house, so I used some magenta-ish solid cotton that I had lying around. Everything in it was in my stash.

I took some pictures of my favorite squares, but most of them are blurry. (I was in a rush.) But here's an OK one. On my aging iBook screen, the pink looks purple. But, it's not.


I've got some really cool ideas for doing patchwork on the back. I'm thinking, essentially, concentric squares in the center _ some solid, some in patchwork.

I've given away (or have homes planned for) all but one quilt I've done. (That one is going to be my practice learn-to-stipple quilt.) But this one, in all it's pink glory, is totally mine.

Today's word is...

ASSTASTIC.

Not really sure why. But I did get one of the four pairs of pants that fit out of the dryer today. And damn, if they weren't ASSTASTIC.

An open letter to my pants. Or, why I'm back on Weight Watchers.

Dear Pants,

Hi! Remember me?

I'm the girl who was down-right ecstatic when I bought you. You were so many sizes smaller than my Before-Pants. (Remember Before? It was when someone took those horrible pictures and Photoshopped me to look extra rotund? Bastards.) You were flattering. And hugged my curves in just the right places. You came from real-people stores, not that Lane Bryant that had been keeping me from nakedness for so many years.

I loved you! Other people loved you! They said you made my ass look hot. Mainly, you were lovely and fantastic.

But, see, now you're not.

In fact, you're pretty much decidedly UNLOVELY. UNFANTASTIC.

You look weird. You strain. You cause unseemly bulges. You make me take deep breaths before I hop up and down to zip you up. (And really, let's not forget about the time that I had to lie on the bed and say a quick prayer before yanking up that zipper.)

WTF? Com'n. I thought we were all BFFy. Why do you have to be this way?

Now, Stacy and Clinton would tell me to dress for the body I have, not for the body I want to have. And there's some sense to that. After all, we've all seen those great outfits they put together for the stubbornly poor dressers.

But I won't admit defeat. And, really, you guys are entirely too cute to say good bye to.

So, this isn't really a good bye. It's a see-you-soon type thing.

That's right, dear pants. (And, Ann Taylor. And Banana Republic. And The Gap. And, well, everywhere else.) Just like The Terminator before me: I'll be back.

See you in a few.

Love,
Noodles

Only because I am a total nerd...

I couldn't resist posting this. In fact, I stopped in the middle of the airport to snap this when I saw the sign.

"WHERE THE PLAYERS PLAY!!!"

Com'n. You know you want to say it. Resistance is futile. (As is Jermaine Dupri.)

Songs to sew by

A few years ago, my friend Currer Bell tried to get me to go with her to Zen meditation. Half an hour in to the multi-hour ordeal I was almost kicked out. Why? Apparently, I'm not so much with the sitting-still-in-quiet-thing.

It's true. I absolutely cannot be left alone with own thoughts. I wiggle and fidget and yawn and squirm. My mind wanders. I make lists. I suddenly develop impossible-to-reach scratches. It's freaking weird.

Anyway, all of this is a prelude to the fact that I hate operating in silence. Even when I'm writing on a big deadline, I have my iPod headphones jammed in my ears. I have mixes for everything: working out, writing, relaxing, sorted by genre, for happy moods, sad moods, contemplative moods. You name it.

So last weekend, I decided I needed to create a quilting iTunes mix.

I know, according to Shakespeare, brevity is the soul of wit, and all that. But I have trouble winnowing stuff down. Which explains why my playlist is roughly seven hours long. (Sidenote: have you ever tried to enter "quilting" into the iTunes store? Yeesh.)

Since I love you, dear reader, I won't bore you with my list of all 107 songs. But I thought I'd give you the names and artists of a few of my favorites. Most of them are of the girl-with-guitar persuasion. Which, frankly, is not only fine with me, but it seems kind of appropriate, no?

But here's the deal. You've gotta share the love and pass along some of your favorite sewing/crafting/chilling with your favorite hobby songs. Because, just like fabric, you can never have enough good music. :-)

Two Dozen Songs To Sew By:

"Jolene" - Dolly Parton
"Shining Waters" - Andy Leftwich.
"Careful" - Guster
"Jezebel" - 10,000 Maniacs
"Taking The Long Way Round" - Dixie Chicks
"Circus" - Britney Spears
"Galileo" - Indigo Girls
"Regretting What I Said" - Christine Lavin (Live version mandatory)
"Nutshell" - Alice In Chains
"While My Guitar Gently Weeps" - George Harrison
"The Dress Looks Nice On You" - Sufjan Stevens
"Like A Prayer" - Madonna
"What Is This Feeling?" - Idina Menzel and Kristen Chenowith from Wicked
"She Don't Like Roses" - Christine Kane
"Smart Girls" - Jonathan Rundman
"Fuck You" - Ani DiFranco
"Slopes" - Strength in Numbers
"Closer to Me" - Dar Williams & Bela Fleck
"Roam" - B-52s
"White Room" - Cream
"Walk The Same Line" - Everything But The Girl
"Straw Hat And Dirty Old Hank" - Barenaked Ladies
"Cigarettes And Chocolate Milk" - Rufus Wainwright
"So Long, So Wrong" - Alison Krauss & Union Station
"Desperately Wanting" - Better Than Ezra

I'm back. (A contemplative post.)

I've kept this blog deliberately quiet since Christmas, even though my life has been decidedly unquiet.

Long (and I mean loooong, drama-filled) story short, the boy and I broke up. I'd tell you more, but since I was the one who ended things, I'm not sure it's my place to share in such a public forum. It's our story, not just mine. And I don't want to make an already uncomfortable situation even worse.

But breakups sucks for everyone involved and it's sad _ heartwrenching, really _ when you realize you won't be spending the rest of your life with the person you thought you would.

So now 2009 is markedly different than I thought it would be as I start over. But I've always been a glass half-full kind of girl. Which is why I'm trying to embrace being a Party of 1 person. And in a weird way, I'm happy to do that, too.

It's like, as much as you love someone and love being with them, you sometimes feel like you lose a little bit of yourself when you move from a singleton to coupleville. I'm looking forward to getting that forgotten bit of me back.

So I'm trying to throw myself into Noodlesdom. Spinning classes. My fabulous church group. Girls nights with the ladies in my life who are just too fabulous for words. Tea. Quilting classes. Books. Books. Books. Even a little home improvement project, which I'll post more details about later, since it directly relates to sewing and crafty hobbies.

It's been two weeks and it's getting easier. An impromptu weekend trip to spend time with my bff ladies in the South totally helped. So did some furniture rearranging. And furious exercise. And several bottles of wine. And a big quilting project.

But then, out of nowhere, those moments creep up on you.

_ Riding the bus to work and realizing you're not sitting next to him.
_ Rolling over in bed and realizing you have the whole thing to yourself.
_ Finding his shirts buried deep in the hamper.
_ Taking down the Christmas tree you bought together.

So I guess that's why I'm like a whirling dervish of activity right now. Because, in addition to helping you get back to being you .... most of all, I think being busy keeps you from being sad. And regardless of who breaks up with who, ending a seemingly forever relationship is decidedly that.