The magical furniture fairy strikes again!!!

You know, when you live in a Shoebox sized apartment, you can’t fit a lot of furniture. But also, my shoebox apartment is very very oddly shaped, so it’s been a work in progress since I moved in.

I posted before about the Magical Furniture Fairy and I’m here to report that she struck again!

This time, A and I were spending Saturday night in and decided to go get some subs before we settled in with some wine and Bananagrams. On our way down the street to Subway, we passed my neighbors house, that is now for sale.

This house has continuously had stuff for free out front since it went on the market, but this time we hit the jackpot. We found 2 tables and a shelf. The shelf is now in my kitchen (notice it is sitting on another Furniture Fairy find):


This table, that has a light inside so I can only assume it’s a display table for important documents and things, is now my dining table. I might put my newspaper collection inside it to spruce it up, if I can figure out how to open it.


And finally, and this is a terrible picture, but we found a really really great glass coffee table. Yes, it has glass not shown.


This prompted us to spend Saturday night rearranging my apartment, and now my couch is in a location that I’ll actually use it. Like today. When it didn’t snow. So I laid on it all day long and tried to avoid putting pants on.



An Inauguration Story

There was no better way to take advantage of my residence in DC than to invite 4 of my closest friends from high school (+one boyfriend) to spend the weekend hitting the town and crashing in The Shoebox. Oh, and attending an historic event like a presidential inauguration.

Regardless of your politics, the peaceful transfer of power is one of the coolest ceremonies in our history.

Our story starts at 3:30 am when we woke up and tried to beat the metro crowds to the line to get in. We had tickets to the standing section and wanted to be as close to the fence as possible. Mission accomplished. We were one of the first 50 people in line.


Then we fought the crowds through the security line and scored primo positioning. We watched the sunrise over the Capitol and hunkered down to battle the cold for 8 hours until the ceremony started.



That was when we met willy wonka, who magically had 2 extra seated tickets that he wanted to share. So, me and my friend AM battled through the crowds, back through the security line, and ended up so very close to the stage.

My favorite part of the whole thing was being in the presence of so many past leaders. Jimmy Carter, The Clinton’s, John Boehner, etc.

My least favorite part was the attempt to leave, as they closed the exits for extended periods of time. And then the city spent the next day looking like a war zone.

It was a great weekend full of memories with some of my favorite people on earth. I can’t say that I’ll stand in a line for 8 hours to watch another one, but I don’t regret the experience a bit.


There’s something magical about living in Capitol Hill, so close to where all the hot political action happens. I never know when a random puppet march or white supremacist rally or random piece of furniture will randomly show up outside my door.


It’s real. I swear. All I have to do is think I need a bookshelf, or side table, and within weeks, that piece will be sitting outside my house- or, in the case of my deck table, literally on my doorstep.

Sure, my bookshelf leans at a relatively unsettling angle, and my deck table has tiles that stab you and my recent (today) find of a side table badly needs a coat of paint. I like to think those flaws give them character.

Okay, that’s total BS. But they’re functional (enough) and I paid nothing for them except for the bleach used to wipe them down.


Besides, my theory is that I don’t need to be investing in furniture unless I can buy really nice pieces. And there’s no point to buying really nice pieces until I plan on living in the place longer than a few years.

So, keep an eye out for the fairy. Let me know if you spot her roaming the streets. I imagine she looks a little like an unshowered 20-something with a moving van.

The time I nonsensically had to a layover in Boston while going from Florida to DC and got stuck next to the lady that smelled like the Grimm reaper had chlamydia

Kids, I’m going to tell you a story. The story of how I met your mother.


And by ‘how i met your mother,’ I of course mean ‘how i decided to start this blog.’ Potato, potato.

You see, I escaped the great cold north last week to go on vacation in Florida with my family. It was lovely and warm and I drank too many grapefruit mimosas and ate too much chocolate bread and now have too many new freckles, and when I left, JetBlue had me fly through Boston to go from West Palm Beach to DC.

Whatever, I figured I’d just use the extra flight time to play Plague on my new iPad, which is basically like Angry Birds except it looks completely different and you’re a killer disease bent on destroying humanity (tomato, tomato?)

And then I got on the flight to Boston and it was like the lady next to me had the disease I was simulating. Well, maybe not exactly because the disease on my screen had symptoms like “coma” and “paranoia” and “total organ failure,” but the point is she smelled terrible and it was a very very long few hours in my life. So I did what every rational, sensible Millennial would do, and I posted about it on Facebook. And then my buddy Steve asked when I was writing a book. I responded that when I did write my memoir, chapter 3 would be called “The time I nonsensically had to a layover in Boston while going from Florida to DC and got stuck next to the lady that smelled like the Grimm reaper had chlamydia.” Then I decided a blog was a more reasonable venture than a book. JOKES ON YOU, STEVE.

So, yeah. I guess this is going to be a thing. If I can remember it exists.

Also, I’m linking to my friend Lindsey’s blog because I totally stole her theme because I was in love with the font