Whose Apartment is it Anyway

Forgive me, but I am guilty of stereotyping a whole gender. You see, I grew up believing men didn't give a rat's poo about decorating...design...atmosphere...ambiance, or any of that aesthetic stuff that girls usually go for. As a child, I knew I'd grow up, meet a handsome boy, marry him immediately and promptly buy a house that I'd decorate. He'd have a man room and we'd live happily ever after.

(record scratch, please)

That is NOT how it works with Mr. Jersey...nooo NoOooo NOOOoo. Jersey has more clothes than me. He has more shoes than me. He actually gets excited when we're going somewhere special and he gets to actually plan out an outfit. I'm the one twitching in a corner asking God why He's punishing me with such a task. Not Jersey, though.

You may remember that I was planning on moving out. This was due to the fact that Jersey wanted space of his own he could make his own. HE wanted to decorate. HE wanted to put his magical touch on his abode. He told me all of this and I swear to Martha Stewart I about shit a decorative pillow out my booty.

That idea has since vanished; never to be seen again. He now wants us to simply get a bigger place and this time he wants to decorate. I felt bad that I had monopolized the vision of our apartment...that is until yesterday when this charming college student came knocking on my door asking if I'd like to buy the LA Times for two months. Always a sucker for stuff to read (and students who have to hustle), I ushered her in (is that illegal?!). I was telling her I'd get the magazine for my guy and that's when it happened.

That girl pointed to the manly arse snowboards hanging in OUR living room and said, "Oh, is this his place?"

HA! Vindication was mine! I am not a girly ass decorator. I did not impose flowers, pink or other girly crap upon that lad. Sure didn't....I brought in strong dark woods and steel shelves. There are SNOWBOARDS HANGING IN THE LIVING ROOM! Yes, there's a mobile, but he twirls that thing every time he comes home. He loves it!

I swear there's no handbook on the model of boy I'm dating...None at 'tall.


 Hanging out with Diva Dara is always a hoot:


It's good to have someone in your life who produces these kinds of feelings

Venice neighborhood door

there were two of course

I've been hipped to new yummy grub

chutneys galore!

cheap arse good food!

Normally me arse twitches when my food touches, but I tore UP on some chicken, eggplant/potatoe stuff and rice

Day 26: Shadows

The Challenge

This one was a pickle to do. I'm not a photographer. There I said it! I like to capture and document...could very well go into a happy life of photo journalism and die a happy woman. I'll never be an Annie L. Shadows? You want me to take a picture "playing with shadows" ?...Really?

Too much. You notice I didn't post it yesterday. That's because I was making fajitas the night before and my grill up and died on me so then I had to broil those bad boy chicken parts and veggie strips and that took forever...and it made my kitchen stinky and I'm sensitive to smell ...and I was upset with my therapist for standing me up...and worried about Jersey and I'm sensitive to stress.

That was the day my cute little photography project got shoved where the sun doesn't shine. Yesterday was better, though. As you can see from my obvious heart shadow, I was feeling much better. Dinner turned out swell and was actually a quick preparoo in the kitchen. My doc actually listened to me and now we're trying a new pill that promises to not make me a numb little zombie who doesn't like to shake my bon bon.

There's hope for my heart yet.

Doctor Who?

As a whole, I have had THE worst luck with doctors out here. It's sad, but I secretly dream of having a panel of doctors (like on the popular TV show) whose soul jobs are to sit around and take care of me and all my weirdish Tish ticks.

You think I'm kidding? This self-proclaimed hypochondriac would not lie about something so awesome wawesome.

Yesterday I got stood up by my angel doc. The one I kind of (desperately!) needed to talk to in order to face Dr. No Personality today. I hate to admit I'm that girl who depends on the therapy couch, but I kind of am. (covers face in embarrassment) I know others experience this, but seriously out of all my friends in my inner circle, it's just me. When you see all your friends running while you're gasping for air, you try your hardest to muster up some strength and catch up...stay with them. And then secretly you feel like a dweeb. 

It's all about looking like I'm not the girl who barks at strangers while balancing on one fine wire. If I lived in NY it would totally be acceptable and even maybe cool to have a therapist. Not the case in LA...

Troublesome Conundrum

Are you a worry wart? I'm a worry wart. I'm a worry wart on infinite amounts of crack.

When I worry my vivid imagination comes to the party and I imagine the worst of the worst. I can't help myself. Last night Jersey went to a meeting for trainers. He told me a general time (that I promptly forgot) and that he had found the meeting on Craigslist. (Sounded fine when he was safely in the car with me on the way to the grocery store.)

Back to yesterday:  9 pm rolled around and he still wasn't home yet from the meeting I thought had started at 6:15.

My mind: How can a meeting go for that long? How many sit ups can one person talk about before the audience falls asleep? Wait? This was on Craigslist?! Like...the Internet site on the World Wide Web where Craigslist killers live? Did he step into a trap? Was the meeting simply a ploy to attract good looking people with superior muscle tone? Are they now dissecting my boo into tiny neat pieces in order to study and mimic his awesome DNA powers?! Is he dead? Where is this meeting? If I text him to scream will the killer read the texts and laugh to his cohorts that there's a girlfriend out there with no clue?

Ahhhhhhh! Go to bed Tish. Pray that he's not dead. Pray that his balls are still in tact.

Jersey walks through the door.

My mind: He stayed gone THAT long and didn't call?! He didn't send a casual text to say hey the meeting lasts for this long?!?!? "Don't worry. I'm not dead. The Craigslist killer didn't in fact kill me."

...I want to kill him! I want to rip off his balls. Can't even talk to him I'm so mad. Can't even LOOK at him I'm so mad.

Ironic, ain't it?

Tonka + Luna

So apparently Luna (Mateo's pup) and Tonka (the frenchie) are awesome sauce best buds.

Mateo feared my ball rubbing threats and sent this to appease my growing rage.

...Now that I read the above outloud it doesn't really sound like a threat. It sounds inapropriate...like maybe Jersey would read that and say WTF Tish!?!!

My original words of outrage and vengeance translated, though...I'm sure of it.

Dear Mr. Jiminy

WTF?! │ The Backlash

So I have a friend named Mateo who's a bully. He read about my darling dream french bulldog and sent me the cruel images below...
This is why I'll never feel guilty saying all men should be banished to an island where their balls are shaved and rubbed together until they smell like roasted chestnuts...


Credit: anyjazz65
In some ways, I'm hanging on by a thread.

I don't know when it happened...all I know is my depression is a tricky pest that's not leaving without a fight.

It started out as rage, anger, tears and despair. I started talking to a therapist, changed up the dosage on the happy pills, and life seemed better... but it didn't last long. I've never regained the energy that used to burst out of me. The doctor who prescribes the meds seriously looks at me like I'm that one idiot who forgot how to read my own body when I attempt to explain how I'm different.

I used to be able to work out and no matter how tired I was, I'd at some point feel the endorphins kick in and I'd get a surge of energy that would have me grinning so hard my dimple would get lost in my cheek. I never got that back. It's been plaguing me for awhile.  Hate to cook...don't really want to hang out or exert any kind of effort...Dr. No Personality seems to think increasing the dosage of the pill will solve all, but I'm still a shell right now.

That's the only way to describe it. I've got no life in my bones. I have just enough energy to wake up, go to work, work some, and then come home and plop my body down. I don't feel joy. I don't cry either...I just stay numb.

Jersey came home. He's been gone a month and I've missed him so much it's hurt. Usually welcoming him home sets off the butterflies in my stomach. I get nervous and giddy and I pace the airport floors until I see him. Then there's relief and excitement. My body remembers how it's supposed to feel...but for some reason this time I was just numb. The alarms went crazy at that point.

More than sadness and anger combined, feeling numb has got to be THE worst feeling. I think I've been hanging on by threads--trying to keep it together until he got home...knowing there was no way I could have broken without someone there to clean up the pieces. (Talk about a welcome home gift)

Today I get to talk to my therapist. I shall tell her about Dr. No Personality and his lack for truly hearing me out. Then depending on what she thinks, I may have an appointment with him the next day where I will promptly tell him to stop pushing for the pharmaceutical rep who's obviously scratching his back.

Friends have been shocked to find out I haven't been OK. Depression just comes in all shapes and sizes...morphs if you will. It's like escargot: "Slippery little sucker"

So yeah...this little adventure has a "to be continued" label.

Day 25: Free Will

The Challenge

I love walking around Santa Monica on the weekends. I people watch, I eat, I shop for guilty pleasures (this one candle I can only find at Anthropologie, little goodies at Sur la Table and other unneccessaries that I've made necessary)

My favorite SM past time has to be walking by this art gallery, though. I'm wayyy too financially challenged to actually step foot in the darn place, but boy do I love to window stalk.

This Roy Lichtenstein makes me chuckle every darn time. I wonder where people put this type of art in their abodes. Classic quirky fun.

PS I like to imagine the man in the reflection is her boo.



I went to a french bulldog rescue site to see if Petunia-my dream dog-was there and that whack falsified untrue site brought up this bologna of a dog. WTF!? This is NOT a frenchie. This is an alien thing with an ironic name. I'm hurt.

Frenchies are going for 3 thousand. My piggy bank needs to get to work.


Curious George

I went to a good friend's baby shower yesterday afternoon and had a lovely time catching up with friends who have managed to have babies and carry on with their snazzy lives in cool ways since the last time we spoke.

I love the catch up process. People are fascinating that way. There's always a story...even when there's no story, it's a story.

One of the hostesses just happens to be a designer for Barbie. Her house was one big heaven of creativity. I'm talking art studio, beautiful paintings, "careful and attentive attention to sweet details" awesomesause heaven. I went into her children's bedroom  to keep watch for a friend while she pumped (her boobs for all the rookies in the audience) and sat there mesmerized by the bright colors, the bookshelves, the comfy chair for reading and hugs, the coloring table area, and the chalkboard wall. I looked outside and watched a parrot plop down in the front yard tree and go to town on some leaves. Random fun eye candy? Yes!

That's LA for ya...You're constantly meeting people who can do amazing things, be amazing and make you feel pretty darn amazing in the process. I swear it wasn't even 5 minutes of being amongst those people in that awesome backyard that I wanted to pick up a pen and start writing.

Day 24: Colour Verde


In all honesty, I had NO frickin lickin clue what a picture of color scheme meant. I had to call up Twinkie and ask her...because she's Twinkie and she has a dog named Kiwi so she HAS to know stuff, right?!

According to her logic, all the challenge was asking me to do was take a picture of stuff in the same family of colors. Really? Bet! I'm a lover of all things green. I knew I could definitely find color themes around to play with.

This is just a bit of my green jewelry I keep around for rainy days. I don't rock the color green a lot...funny, no? I like looking at it more than I like rocking it. Translation: Tishy doesn't rock jewelry all that often.

...But I admire it in this bowl from Finland every day.

Pinterest Par-tay

Diva Dara was kind enough to feed me her crack (Pinterest) one day and I took to that ish like a hipster takes to obscurity. I'm on that ish every dang day...pinning and searching and dreaming and planning. It's the ultimate dream board and I LOVE me some dream board!

I found out last week that the folks at Pinterest were throwing a party for their LA cohorts so I got down on one knee (virtually) and asked Ms. Dara if she'd like to accompany me to a most righteous crack house for some hits. She tweaked and said yeah.

The event was cool. A bit hoity toity...lots of fashion bloggers and pretty girls that would look Dara and I down and then walk the other way...forgetting to hide the faces that were saying, "Oh you're not someone famous or someone whose dress will color block well with mine." It was allllll good though, because we met two awesome chicks by the name of Alyson and Nina who rocked and were totally chill like us.

We hung. We drank wine and we ate thin cookies that were buttery delicious. My LA adventures have become so random...

I tell you what.

Pinterest Pals (OhJoy! was there)

El vino: Pig with spot

The Creator! Dara became friends with Ben. I'm in awe of her ability to mingle.

The demographic's crack

Changes Everything

Isn't that just the darndest little truth ya ever did read?!

It's always the hard changes that shake me hard enough to knock me from the stupid path I've stubbornly refused to let go of. In hind's sight, this is always for the best, but man! is it the worst cup of tea IN THE WORLD when you're smack dab in the middle of it.

Day 23: Childhood

The Challenge

Lightening in a Bottle


I'm waiting for it...

I went home to Middle Earth to see my father's grave and see my loved ones...It sounds silly, but I was really thinking something profound would happen; the clouds would part and I, Tish Tosh, would find clarity, focus and whatever else I needed (that I'm not currently clear and focused enough on to know.)

I did have an eventful time. I spent quality time with my best friend. I tangoed with God Child #2 and listened to God Child #1 tell me about her dreams of being a lawyer. I attended a beer fest. I screamed through the movie, Super 8. I hung with my grandma and cried at my dad's grave. In all, I had a well-rounded trip.

It was the quiet times in between that I realized I can't come back to that home quite yet. (The family wants me to move back.) I haven't done what I set out to do. It was hard to look my God kids in the eyes. I haven't tried for my dream in a long, long time. I can't be the God mommy who didn't show spirit...isn't that a rule in the spiritual mentor handbook or something?!

I went to this cool workout place with J called The Fit Pit and got me arse handed to me on an obstacle course and it all came rushing back. We're all good at something--there's something great we all can do that makes our spirits do little jigs--and I haven't landed my something quite yet. (The leap frogging and pull-ups taught me that.) J is soaring with her dreams and she's as close as close can be to me, so I know accomplishment is possible. I see it and read it every day when I open up a Fit Bottomed Girls post.  

I went back to learn I still need to move forward. I don't know what 2011 or the future holds. I have NO clue what I'm supposed to be doing. I'm just gonna keep doing what I do...and hope to GOD that it happens...whatever it may be.

Dog Eyes

I love this photographer for doing this series because I'm seriously the person who thinks the people are never coming back. I SO empathize with those darn dogs' eyes!

Jersey is still in Jersey. For a month now I've had those puppy dog eyes. Those darn sad eyes...

Female to females (and that one dude who stumbles across this darn blog), do you ever feel weak for missing someone? I mean we women are always being knocked for being emotional...

Some day when I grow up I'm going to say the most wise, the most perfect thing regarding women and missing and how it's important for the soul...or something.

In the mean time I shall just live in my current shame...punked and puppy-eyed.

Day 22: A Person I Love

The Challenge

Dads are magical. You can enter a child's life for only four years and leave a lasting imprint. You can pass when she's a young girl and she'll STILL find a way to keep you alive in her heart for the rest of her life. She'll light up when people tell stories of you. She'll cry when she sees her grandmother (your mother's) eyes go somewhere else remembering you as a young man.

People say I walk like him...carry myself like him...they see him in me and I'm OK with that because I love that man...Like I said, dads are magical.

Happy Belated Father's Day, Dad.



You Got Me Straight Trippin' Boo

I may have been a walker for 29 or so years, but that hasn't stopped me from trippin' like a toddler...apparently.

Until I can get my ish together I'll be sharing some oldie posts I had on reserve just for these kinds of situations. My Middle Earth experience was documented and will be shared soon! Until then, please enjoy my buffoonery.

Day 21: That One Sunset

The Challenge

Coming home from vacation is always hard...EVEN when this is a part of the deal. 

Middle Earth │ Lucky Duck


I'm on holiday, dawlings. While the unfortunate may vacay in Paris or Rome, I have the luxury of jetting on over to Middle Earth--The next best thing to Mecca...which is Texas.

I'll be gone for a couple of days, but don't fret! I'll be back AND I'll have lots of yummy stories and pictures to dump on ya.

Please come back...while I'm away, browse the plethora of ish I've posted in the last month. I've gotten accustomed to posting three times a day. Why? Because my brain is on activate-mode and somehow forgot that most people don't really care about my tooting rhythms, therapy nightmares and hussy-fied birds.

Sincerely Middle Earthian,


Day 20: A Pretty Witch Who Has a Pretty Pen

she is vulnerable enough to be my reflection and convince me it’s safe to come out and be myself, I can say I’m emotional because she bares her feelings, unearths her imperfections to let me stare at each and every one, then we plant them in the backyard and swear to tell the world each and every one, water them with our tears in celebration that we lived. Now there is a tree that grows there…and it bears fruit…
~ An excerpt from Annie Q's post, Letter From RhapsodE

These two women can write their asses off...I mean viscerally delicious, deep, awesome, totally rad sentences that blow my mind EVERY.DAMN.TIME.

I tend to read Annie's blog early in the morning when I'm still fresh and open, but I just happened to catch this post mid-day...right after a rather stressful meeting and I was still able to steady my breathing, shut out the world and sigh in disbelief. How does she do it?

And how does her friend do it?!!!

I know I'm supposed to be feeling the lesson: That even the most awesome of awesome folk doubt their talents; they need a good best friend to spit polish the doubt off, but I'm still reeling from HOW RhapsodE spit polishes. It's like she drank magic water from the purest of places, processed the fluids while breathing in the magical air, and then proceeded to create the most perfect spit known to woman...The kind of spit that could keep Alfalfa's hair down, damn it.

I wish I could spit knowledge like that.
The Challenge: Whatever I Pleased (a witch's ambiance)

Oscar Wao


Jersey gave me this book for my birthday. I've hit a rut with Jay Z's Decoded and figured it might be a good time to pick up another of the many books I have on my desk waiting to be loved.

So far so good. It reminds me a lot of White Boy Shuffle, which happens to be one of my favorite books in the world. It's gully, gritty, humorous and nerdy as all get out. I mean SO nerdy that many of his references are going over MY head.

Could you have ever thunk such a thing?!

This guy makes me look like Polly Popular, Helga the Hipster and Tarty Tiffany all rolled up into one awesome-sauce chick.

A When Harry Met Sally Moment

I watched this and seriously forgot me arse was at work!

I love these kinds of stories...LOVE LOVE LOVE!

Day 19: Right as Rain

We can never have enough of nature. We must be refreshed by the sight of inexhaustible vigor, vast and titanic features, the sea-coast with its wrecks, the wilderness with its living and its decaying trees, the thunder-cloud, and the rain. ~Henry David Thoreau

The ChallengeSanta Barbara Landscape 

  You'd think I spent all my free time walking this, breathing this, loving this UP, but alas there's always something else that calls this chronic Pisces pixie away from the waves. Don't pity me for taking it for granted, though. Whenever I find myself facing the big pond, without fail, my knees give out and my breath catches.

It's humbling, frightening and peaceful all at once...Kind of like popping that big ole zit you didn't know you were rockin' all day.

Tolerance is Pretty

Buy the book

...A little sprig of hope.


I love being a woman.

Day 18: Photo Depicting an Emotion

This is me...overwhelmed out of my darn tootin' mind.

Work has been stressing me the heck out. My job had this huge re org and they just kind of closed their eyes, turned around three times and pointed to a random job. That job became my job and now I'm seriously running around like a goon wondering how in the heck they expect me to do it. I personally think it should be illegal to make someone do a job they didn't interview for. Right?! Am I right?

I left work yesterday with my head down...I felt like life was physically beaten out of me. I really hope this gets easier...I'm talking about life, y'all.

Life, get easier!!! (please)

...Watching HGTV and these property virgins are talking about how much they love their jobs. Someone please stab me in the heart with a lame spoon that someone awesome used to scoop up the fruits of their labors.

God Dog

I've actually never met my God dog, Kiwi, but that doesn't stop me from loving this little fur ball.

Every time Twinkie tells me she's coming to visit I ask if she's gonna bring Kiwi. She always says no...Something about the darn price of a dog flight. Expensive schmensive. I WILL be one with the kiwi!

Therefore I'm trying my darndest to get out to her neck of the woods soon.

I mean for gosh sakes...the pup's name is Kiwi for Fido's sake!

A Brain Fart

I want to invent a machine that allows one to change their voice...When they finish the process, they'll have the NPR tone and style that so many of us strive for. Such control...such passion for all things calm and quiet. I LOVE IT!

"Schweddy Balls"

Day 17: A Photo with Street Light(s)

The Challenge

That one sunset
Lavendar and blue streams of song
Echoing to its world that a star's lullabyes are about to begin
Chimes from the breeze
Reminding the lightening bugs that it's time to play
The whole world entranced in the blues
Mezmorized by the jazz of another passing day. ~TM

Gets me Every Darn Time


I watch this movie over and over again just for this scene! Gotta love True Lies...


So I have this problem...

You see I found Butter London nail polish a couple months ago and now I can't live without the stuff. My pusher is cruel. I'm always receiving these emails you see...These emails luring me back to my dark side. A side that feens and tweaks for its next fix.

I need the light pink..and the green, OH GOD DO I NEED THE GREEN!

Day 16: Photo Experimenting with Light Trails

Light trails: LA Lights

Some day I have to learn how to do the cool traffic light trails. You know, the cool zooms of light just in the background of something moving fast. This challenge is really kicking me arse. So much ish to learn...

Intentional Action


I'm really obsessed with this woman and her quilts for more reasons than I can count...

Some day when I'm awesoemely rich I will buy one of these good girls (nothing bad boy here!) and stick it on my wall as art. She's the black dress of quilting bees.

A Pound of Prevention...

J's bud posted this on her Facebook page and I just had to pass along...


Day 15: Photo of Whatever You Please

I took this photo because I was totally digging this weird circle just chillin in the sky...and then I played with it.

...And then I played with it some more.

...And some more. : )

« »
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...


Luv and Kiwi All rights reserved © Blog Milk Powered by Blogger