Friday's Fawns: Laura Frisk

 I am freaking out over Laura Frisk and her store, Laura Frisk on Etsy.  I started to covet a few of her totes, but then when I explored her shop I started to have a meltdown.
the tote I ordered today

three feathers pin, also ordered

hand woodblocked pillows
a collection of some of her beauties
Then, when I convo'ed her on Etsy...she responded!  She didn't ignore me, or take FOREVER getting back to me, or even get irritated when I asked her about ten thousand questions about the tote, the colors...etc.  I was touched. 

Recently I have had some AWFUL experiences with Etsy sellers, and I think it is refreshing to see someone who will be flexible with print colors, designs and the like.  I have often asked a particular seller if they will put a certain design on a tank top (which, yes, they sell tank tops with their t-shirt designs on them) and this seller has informed me that the "ringer tee" is the only style available.  Guess what?  1995 called.  they want the "ringer tee" back.

As I type this I am deciding which tote to get, what design to have block-printed on it and what color I want.  She has given me too many options!  Please support her and her beautiful art!

The Bloglovin' Collective!

Welcome to the weekly Bloglovin' Collective party! 
There are many out there like it, but this is the Bloglovin' blog hop you do not want to miss.


and my co-hosts for the week:

Interested in co-hosting? Send an email to peacoatsnplaid(at)gmail(dot)com to get on the waiting list.

Mr. Y.D.

shoes: Target dress: Ross mystery bin Tibetan cuff and cow skull necklace: black&bronze glasses: c/o Tumbleweeds HC plugs: Body Jewelry Resource


This is myself and my grand-dog Whitey.  Although he is not technically "MY DOG" (he belongs to my mother) he is mine, since he is the progeny of two of my dogs, Piddle and Chivo.  Whitey has a personality that cannot be ignored, much like myself, so perhaps that's why I chose to highlight him out of the SIX dogs currently living at the house I share with my parents.
Whitey, or Y.D. (short for Young Dog, apparently he's in the rap game) is a Chihuahua/Terrier mix, with one crazy tooth askew right on his lower jaw.  He looks basically, like a drunk old redneck, a rather shifty used car salesman, or the most adorable creature on all times. 
He does the most adorable things which includes what I like to call the "One-And-A" where he does sort of a half-hearted jump to attempt to get on top of something (couch, chaise, bed) but will do said wimpy jump about six times before he puts in a full effort.  He can accomplish it on the first try, believe me.  He also tells YOU when you're done petting him.  He will SHOVE his head or body under your palm until you get to work.
I love him so much because I can see both his parents in him, and since I love them so much, my heart can only burst for Mr. Y.D.

Yes, The BO-den

There are seven other people who lived this nightmare with me, and this goes out to all of them, wherever they may be.  Girls of Suite C, this one's for you.
a real Pepperdine dorm...oooooooh

College is stressful enough that you basically, as a freshman, run from activity to activity, like a deer in headlights, hoping to hell that soon you will know what you're doing and where you're going.  You have scheduling, transportation, orientation, you name it.  And then, the joys of communal dorm living set in.

I think we were all really excited to be away at school, proud that we had made it in, and basically grateful to be there.  I don't think any of us were prepared to share a bathroom with seven other girls, let alone a room (something I had never done until this point) as well as a building, full of bitches just like you.  We had a really sweet resident advisor (RA), Learsi, and she basically let us do whatever we wanted, if she didn't have to see it happening.  Our assistant RA, was a total bitch.  I don't remember her name, but that's because I stayed the hell away from her.

At Pepperdine, they do a little torturous activity known as "Freshman Orientation", where they make you come in the middle of the summer to "get ahead" of everyone else, get acclimated to the campus, and in reality: size everyone up for the coming year.  Here's where I saw my first small dog in a Kate Spade purse, hell, it's where I saw my first Kate Spade purse, period.  I saw kids with cars I had only seen my local plastic surgeon drive.

It was at this orientation that I met my future roommate, who we will call Sandra.  Sandra seemed really great at first, she seemed kind and funny.  She was very sarcastic and dry, and her parents (yes, you brought your family along with you to this nightmare) were really cool.  She was from Texas, she was into a lot of cool music, she had a car and she also had the worst lingering body odor I have ever smelled.

I prayed it was the long drive, or just the stress of the situation, that made her smell that way.  I tried to ignore it, and of course I forgot it as soon as our weekend was over, and I was back home, buying XL twin sheets and dreaming about all the girls I saw whom I knew I would be both alienated and bullied by.

When school began, Sandra beat me to our room in Suite C, and picked what I would have called the "better side of the room" but I didn't care.  What I was most alarmed by was the odor.  Our room smelled like the inside of an ass.  She was unpacking, I realized, and it was her clothes.  They all stunk, just like her.  She later informed me she "didn't sweat" and therefore, must not need deodorant.  I can count on two hands the amount of times she showered. 

This nightmare soon breached my room and began to effect our other suite-mates.  My room was nicknamed the "BO-den" as in, the Body Odor den.  I became very close with one girl, so when we had one of the ladies leave, due to a slapping incident between a Nigerian princess and a Kappa princess (another awesome post for another time), we had a bed "open up" so-to-speak.  We shuffled orders, and I was out of that stinky hell.

When she was gone, which she was for EXTENDED periods of time, I would go into our room (since I still had my key) and we would have the time of our lives.  We went through her "laundry", which was more like a science experiment...we even photographed some key items we wanted to be able to show other friends who didn't live with us, and subsequently did not believe someone could be so gross.

We would also find pictures she had left in her desk drawers, of her and her boyfriend, whom we lovingly referred to as Rumplestiltskin.  One of them was rather compromising, so it was obviously passed around and was everyone's favorite object to pull out after a night of drinking.

Eventually, she moved out, angry we had "gone through her stuff" and someone had taken her copy of Steel Magnolias.  We basically laughed her right out of the dorm, her and her little Stiltskin, got an apartment somewhere where they could both wallow in their own filth.

The crazy thing was, she would lie about everything. We would catch her in lies about being in a band, traveling to different places, having "insane" parties at her house, and so on.  If she said she knew someone or had did something, we would all roll our eyes.  She was ultimately the person who was the most full of shit I have ever met in my whole life.  She left school for a few years, and several years later, a friend drew my attention to something unbelievable.

Apparently Sandra returned to Pepperdine and claimed she had ovarian cancer.  I think that both the Church and the school raised about $10,000 for her in total.  She never offered any proof of the illness, and it was rumored that her parents had "no comment" on the subject.  Knowing Pepperdine, I expect she received private donations as well.  I heard she bought a new car with all the money.  Let's hope she got an air freshener for it too. 

Monday Monday

boots: Target dress: Ross mystery rack cuff and bird skull necklace: black&bronze glasses: c/o Tumbleweeds HC plugs: Body Jewelry Resource

I'm having a black&bronze baby.

"What the HELL is that noise?"

"Oh, you UPS truck you...with no packages for me."

Sometimes I don't know what to say.  Sometimes I act like an asshole.  I sent a snarly email to someone I respect and admire, I have snapped at just about every human being I encounter, and I am just plain tired of my life right now.

I have worked four straight doubles so far this "week", five shifts total so far, and I am ready to drop.  I am posting this now, in the hopes I don't get called in to work tonight, as I might freak out completely and lose it.  I have to be there anyway to train, I just would like not to pull a fifth double and a sixth shift.   I have been training all week, a super sweet girl, but it's been difficult balancing both the training and then working after.  I know, cry me a river.

I feel lucky to have such a great support group of fellow bloggers and readers, and I want to thank you all for being so sweet, and noticing the subtleties of my posts, moods, etc.  Right now I am working on a killer blog week for you, with a new giveaway as well!  Exciting!  I have discovered a new blog recently...Lena B, Actually and I love it.  I am also smitten with Random Blog Drama (I think I may have mentioned this before) so I encourage you to go give these ladies some love.  In the meantime, cross your fingers I am off tonight.  Or...tomorrow's blog might be titled, "I Broke All the Glassware Last Night".

Johnanthan Taylor Thomas

So I went to Pepperdine, blah blah blah and we all know I did not belong there.  It was difficult for me to fit in, I basically ran with a pack of misfits (no offense to said misfits), and made most of my friends through work.  That was a double edged sword however, because these people did not attend the University, and thus, I did not want to either.  I had a hard time making myself go to class, I'm sorry but the classes were drop dead boring, and filled with religious rhetoric.  There were TWO teachers there that saved my life and my degree, and they were both spectacular people.  Thank you Dr. Heffernan and Dr. Soper!

We will discuss the awesomeness of the aforementioned another time, however, the story I want to tell today is one in which I will never forget.

Somehow, the pack of misfits befriended a young lady named Nikki, who was a dead ringer for Gwyneth Paltrow, and I am not kidding when I say she looked BETTER than Gwyneth.  She drove one of those cute Land Rovers and had absolutely perfect skin, teeth, and hair.  I'm pretty sure she never went to the bathroom or farted.  She was that perfect.  Being the obligatory Pepperdine student, her parents were LOADED.  She was from Calabasas (of course), just around the corner, so she was always jaunting home to visit her "boyfriend."

One of my closest friends had a massive crush on her.  It was one of those situations like Screech and Kelly Kapowski potentially hooking up.  Not gonna happen.  None of us wanted to directly say, "look buddy, just LOOK at her, and then realize what you're up against."  She was so incredibly kind to him, going to dinner with him and being "friends", it made me hate her even more.

So, one day the pack of misfits drug me up to her dorm room because we were all supposed to go somewhere, or study something or...who knows.  Marijuana effects the memory.  We all met in her perfectly decorated room, complete with sixty-eight different Kate Spade bags and posters of Audrey Hepburn.  She informed us that she would not be able to join us, because suddenly her "boyfriend" had called, and was coming to pick her up to hang out.

In a way, I gave a rip.  This meant I could go back to smoking downstairs and playing Super Nintendo, two skills I honed while at school.  In another way, she always talked about this "boyfriend" in a very mysterious way, almost not wanting to reveal anything about him, so...are we going to finally meet this guy?!?!  I started imagining some Saudi Prince, or maybe Brad Pitt?  My mind was racing, as she got a call on her cell.

"Oh, I'll meet you downstairs, I'll be right there."  She fondly bid the rest farewell, but I strategically decided to "go down to my room and get something."  She gave me an awkward look, but then just smiled her beautiful smile.  As we rounded the corner to the parking lot, I almost crapped my pants.  There, in all his five foot glory, was Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

I almost screamed, "this is YOUR BOYFRIEND?!"  But I held it together, barely.  She introduced him to me as "Jon."  No shit, really?!  I wanted to scream so the others would come downstairs.  Instead I stood there, frozen.  She explained that they had met in high school.  She was a good foot taller than him.

I wasn't sure what to do, part of me wanted to run, part of me wanted to go get my camera, and part of me wanted to hide behind a fence and pretend to be Wilson.  Nikki and "old raspy baby man" bid me a fond farewell, and I walked back upstairs to meet the misfits in the hall.  I must have looked like I saw a ghost.  I told them all I had just seen JTT, and not only that, he was Nikki's boyfriend.  They did not believe me, until her roommate, Tamar, came to join us.  She laughed at the commotion an said, "Oh yeah, I would of told you but I thought it was no big deal."

No big deal.  No big deal?!?! Then Tamar took us up to their room and showed us a few pictures of them together, just to make sure I wasn't losing my mind.  I just couldn't wrap my mind around the situation, I was much more of a Jonathan Brandis girl back in the day, but might be worth mentioning in the months of friendship we have watched gone by to mention your boyfriend used to be on Home Improvement.

Nikki and I didn't really hang out much after that year, she ended up dropping JTT like a hot potato and hooking up with this guy Pete who was arguably the biggest crush I have ever had and it was probably one of the biggest disappointments of my life.  Oh well!  He stabbed a pregnant lady over a used car after we graduated, so maybe he wasn't that rad. 

Friday's Fawns

Alright, it's that time again to indulge in pretending I have a bag of money to spend on Etsy.  Let's take a look at all the things I have been fawning over recently.  By the way John, the first list of things I wanted still has a couple "holes" in it let's say so...ahem.  Also, I'm noticing a rather prevalent floral theme here...which is quite the departure for yours truly.
This is the Flower Garden Weekender from Embi Bags.  I don't think any real words are necessary.
Hi, I'm a Rustic Bangle from Beau Miracle Jewelry.  Try not to die over me.
 I love April, her art, her spirit and this dress from her shop, Thread Over Heels.
This little minty gem will also be mine, from Vintage Repeats, one of the most, reasonable, eclectic and affordable vintage shops on Etsy!
My obsession with resin jewelry is rearing it's ugly head again, and this extra large bangle from Spotted Dog Farm is KILLING IT.  I can't sleep at night thinking about this thing, or this beauty below, from Resin Road, my absolute FAVORITE resin shop on Etsy.
So, you know I've had a rough week...any gratuities would be appreciated. 

It's Not Easy Having Yourself a Good Time

Rebel and I have these matching cow skull BFF neclaces from black&bronze and you don't
I am really good at making angry faces

dress: Ross mystery bin shoes: Target bangle and necklace: black&bronze
So tattoo girls of the world, unite and take over.  This is my "I-don't-have-any-tattoos-what-are-you-talking-about-please-hire-me" dress.  You may notice it has sleeves that can be buttoned up or down, depending on what relative is coming to visit, or where I am going, or if the folks are around (still haven't broken the news about the new fox tattoo, albeit it was on trade and it commemorates my deceased cousin, Jeff...AND DON'T YOU TELL HER AUNT SUSAN) I wear this thing a lot.

I have no idea who made it, it was a Ross find, with one of those mystery tags that has been marked down like six-hundred times...and I found this gem just screaming out for my love.  It was a steal.  I don't think it was seven dollars with tax.  Please note how well it goes with my black&bronze jewelry, which thanks to Carly, I now need a twelve step program to quit buying from her.

Doing Cocaine in The Boys' Bathroom

my HS quad, the scene of many of my favorite and not-so favorite moments

It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I hate exercise.  I would rather eat a bag of glass than run anywhere, or jump up and down, pedal a bike (okay, maybe leisurely with a soda in my hand) but I, like my "Aunt" Susan, define exercise as, "brisk sitting."

Imagine my horror in high school, finding out there was a three year Physical Education requirement as well as gym clothes, a gymnasium, sweating in public, possibly sweating in front of hot dudes, playing stupid games like lacrosse, and GOD FORBID SWIMMING IN A SWIM SUIT WITH MEMBERS OF THE OPPOSITE SEX.   My high school was sure to make us do it all though, seeing as we had this athletic complex similar to an Olympic Village.

So, the unfortunate fact that Freshman P.E. was unavoidable (yeah, I ran that fucking mile---stupid Presidential Fitness Standards), now I had that under my belt as a sophomore, and planned on not taking P.E. ever again at whatever cost.  

Then, I saw the blessed asterisk that mentioned Dance counted as Physical Education after Freshman P.E. had been completed.  Sweet Baby Jesus, I was saved.  I have never filled in a Scantron bubble more quickly in my life!

Our dance teacher, Mrs. G, was also a Language Arts teacher, particularly mine, so I had no fear going into class, since she was very "theatrical" in everything she did, I was prepared for nothing less.  I am pretty sure she made up everything as she went, and during our Annual Dance Show, I'm pretty positive most of the "choreography" was created either in her head about a week before, or just copied directly from the movie's soundtrack we were dancing too.  The dance shows had themes.  I dressed up as the Penguin from Batman once.  These are blogs for later.

One day after smoking my obligatory bong rip in our parking lot, I was late and rushing into dance class.  Keep in mind this is also the same dance class from my aforementioned mushroom trip, so things were lax, to say the least.  We held class in our school's cafeteria, before the Dance Complex was built.  No, I did not go to a RICH school, I just went to a NEW school.  

We "changed" into our dance clothes in the bathrooms, but the girls' bathroom was obviously too crowded to hold all of us thirty bitches at once.  We had one guy in class, so he never had to wait.  I was late already and said, "fuck it, I'm going in there with Joe and changing."  The girls looked horrified, but everything I did was pretty brazen, so I think at this point they expected my behaviors, and waited eagerly to see the consequences.

I stepped into "the void" and all was well.  Joe had obviously already changed and gone, since the place was empty.  I laughed at all those dumb girls waiting, following the rules.  I had my own bathroom now, stand in line you sheep!

I stepped into the handicapped marked stall, spreading out my contraband, doing a count, re-wrapping it tightly, and then getting my "dance" clothes out.  Before I changed, I decided I had to pee, and sat right down.  What I saw startled the shit out of me.
 Sitting there, on top of the toilet paper dispenser were two perfectly cut lines of cocaine.  How did I know this at fifteen?  Let's just say I moved with a much faster crowd than the rest of the honor students.  I tasted it, and it was confirmed.  I, like an idiot, began to look for a hidden camera, security guard or cop.  This had to be a set-up.  Wait!  Were these Joe's lines?  No way.  Joe had never even SEEN cocaine, I was sure.  

This was obviously a gift from the dance gods, telling me to boogie down.  I rolled up my dollar I used to buy a soda at lunch, quicker than Scarface himself.  Oh!  It was coke alright.  This was probably the most I had done "solo" so far, but being alone of course I was rubbing my gums as I threw on my Nikes.  

Mrs. G was just beginning when I emerged from the boys' bathroom, feeling like Donna Summer.  She immediately balked and then pointed at me.  I think I dripped an entire bucket of sweat in those three seconds.  

She said," Look at Alli!  Genius!  Good job girl, saving time and just going in there when Joe is done.  Why don't the rest of you do that?"  Good job?  Oh man, my eyes were as big as saucers.  Joe took one look at me and knew something was up.  

He asked, "Did you see that white stuff in the bathroom?"

I said, "Nope."

His look said LIAR and my look said SHUT-UP.  And then, we danced.  

A Stranger Bird for This Strange Bird

"don't you know I'm loco?"

dress: c/o Stranger Bird Vintage shoes: Target belt: Old Navy plugs: Body Jewelry Source glasses: Zenni Optical
I miss you my bloggies!  I'm sorry I've been away for awhile, I have had tons of personal stuff going on: from work, to the blog, to the usual family drama and of course, I've been tanning a lot.  Just kidding.  Here are some great shots of a dress I was gifted by my dearest Jenny, owner and operator of The Stranger Bird Vintage, and I am also happy to say, new and dear friend of mine.  Please check out her shop, and this blog, where I will be showcasing many items I have been so lucky to have been gifted by her.

I am not kidding when I say this little blog of mine is a lifesaver.  There are times, honestly, when it can be a bit of a chore.  Right now I have giveaway winners backed up, Etsy orders to complete, and my anxiety and depression has been FULL THROTTLE.  My mom suggested I eat gluten-free for a while to see if it helps my stomach.  I suggest she stop screaming at me and ignoring me for the duration of Mothers' Day, and then perhaps my stomach will settle down.  Dunno, just a thought.

However, in the darkest days, especially the ones recently, there has been a light.  Either a tweet or email would come in, I'd get a little care package here and there...just a whisper saying, "we are here."  Thank you to those of you who helped me, you know who you are.   

I have a new great idea forming, a new and DIFFERENT way of looking at blogging, and I hope to really start getting it ready for this summer!

In other rad news, one of my BFFs Jess, over at MILKY ROBOT and I have both been zine crazy lately, both in purchasing and authorization.  Check back on our blogs to see the unveil of a lost art form that needs resurgence!  Also, I will be revealing some zines I LOVE right now, coming later this week in perhaps...wait for first VLOG ever.