My newly-prescribed arthritis medication is a lovely combination of yellow and white, coincidentally coordinating with one of the Pendleton blankets that is on my fantastical holiday wishlist this year.

What does everyone think of a highly-specific design blog in which I create colorboards for you based on your medication, chronic illness, autoimmune disease, and exceptional taste?

Possible name: Sick Style.

In this highly addictive reinterpretation of Charles Shyer’s masterpiece, Steve Martin turns to a life of crime in order to support his growing family. Martin Short resumes his role as an international meth dealer and event planner. After their professional relationship turns sour, Short aligns himself with Martin’s pregnant, unaware wife and daughter. Looming consequences threaten to tear Martin’s delicate family bonds apart.

You know what? Jacob would give this four stars.

I stumbled up on this gem last night while slogging knee-deep through the grimy cesspool of film that is Starz Play, further proving that Netflix is indeed fucking with me.

To Myself

You are riding the bus again
burrowing into the blackness of Interstate 80,   
the sole passenger

with an overhead light on.   
And I am with you.
I’m the interminable fields you can’t see,

the little lights off in the distance   
(in one of those rooms we are   
living) and I am the rain

and the others all
around you, and the loneliness you love,
and the universe that loves you specifically, maybe,

and the catastrophic dawn,
the nicotine crawling on your skin—
and when you begin

to cough I won’t cover my face,
and if you vomit this time I will hold you:   
everything’s going to be fine

I will whisper.
It won’t always be like this.
I am going to buy you a sandwich.

— Franz Wright

(Sent to me at the exact perfect time by one Whitney Ricketts)

In my typical Thanksgiving fashion, I’ve made an edible thing that looks like another thing. This year, I constructed acorns out of chocolate kisses, miniature Nilla wafers, and a smidgen of frosting. Eat up, chumps.

If I were between the ages of fourteen and twenty two I would have stood at the base of this monument last night — a short, freezing walk away from the first landing place of the pilgrims — and waited for it to light up like a tall, festive castle.

Instead, I slept through the Pacific Northwest rain. 

Happy Thanksgiving, no matter what coast you’re on. Oh hell, we’ll even include you people in the middle.

(Source: i-want-your-skulls)

Of course Diane Keaton’s must-have list for ELLE Decor includes Werther’s Originals.

That turtleneck makes for easy storage, doesn’t it, Diane?

Really, guys. It’s beautiful here.

Men I Was Attracted to But Also Scared of, an Incomplete List

1992-2000

1. AC Slater
2. Bob Saget
3. Vanilla Ice
4. Extreme sportsmen
5. Fred Durst

TGIF, right? You guys? Right?

As of this week I have officially reentered the workforce.

Back when I was previously employed, I had this pillow made. It’s been my personal slogan for a long time now so it’s nice to have it drive my days, versus mocking me from the couch while browsing Craigslist.

It’s good to be back.

Photo by Mona.