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How-To Pretend You Work For Anthropologie

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The problem with Anthropologie is that they cost way too much money. WAY TOO MUCH! I mean, come on--these book boxes: source: Anthropologie Cost $68-$188! Do you have that kind of money? I don't, but you know what I do have? I have a library with a cart full of free books that no one really cares about! So guess what I did... I made my own (and then I gave them away because I really don't have anywhere to put them). Here's how. What do you think?
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Yo-Yo Ma

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Once, years ago, I got into an argument on a baby-names forum about music. A woman had posted a thread asking how other mothers felt about music and children. Her argument was that she allowed her children to listen to whatever music they wanted to because how could they possibly choose for themselves if they didn't know what to choose from. Mothers around the globe, and more specifically on the forum, applauded her. I did not. 'What types of music are you letting them listen to?' I asked. 'Jay-Z, Snoop Dog... whatever they want!' I was shocked. Her children were.... children, young enough to be significantly influenced by what they heard. I said as much and immediately became the bad guy. Attacked from all sides I found myself alone. I considered how naive I must have been to assume that it made sense to everyone that controlling what your kids saw and heard was important. It made sense to me! This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in th...
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I Have a Secret

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Can I just tell you a little something-something about myself? It's a secret I've been keeping from the blogging world for quite a while for fear of a general outcry and swift retribution. BUT, never being one to be able to keep a secret for long, I'll tell you. I hate aprons. A few years ago we had a women's social at church in which we were all given aprons and told they were an example of service. I nearly didn't take one. I nearly skipped out on the whole thing... oh, wait--I think I did leave early. You must be wondering what my miff is? What's got my bloomers in a bind? What's got my corset askew? What's the rock in my high heel? To me aprons are the physical representation of everything women fought to free themselves of! Forget bras, people... what about aprons? Everybody seems so gung-ho to embrace aprons these days and every time I see one I just think to myself--"A woman's place is in the kitchen." Wow, last ti...
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