Maybe I Should Have Just Paid Someone...

I spent too much time today sewing this textile to a matte and then putting the DIY frame together.

I bought several of these at a market in Brazzaville. Some of you might remember. This and the smaller items went home in a tiny box from the Brazzaville post office, where a pygmy named Benson chatted me up. The wooden TinTin sculptures went with me to Zambia, with its reliable postal system, but I had a big fight at Customs about them when the officials in Kinshasa claimed they were antiques.

I wasn't totally surprised--I'd had this happen in Ethiopia in 2001, but there, I just had to get some paperwork filled out. In Kinshasa, the only way through was by bribe or sheer stubbornness. I chose the latter (actually, the latter chose me when I lost my temper) and refused to move until they finally gave up. I also did a lot of arguing. That was fun. Never argue with officials with guns in airports, unless you are pretty sure you can get away with it.

I didn't expect to still own this Congolese textile six years later--I meant to send it to someone in my souvenir program, but somehow I did not.

I have one like this already in Jersey City. But that one I bought in Nairobi--this is the real thing, Congolese, bought in Republic of Congo.

Small Luxury

You know how you add something small to your life and later you wonder why you didn't do it sooner? Like a mat in front of the sink, to stand on while washing dishes. Or a doormat next to the bed, so you always get the dust off your bare feet right before bed (admittedly, this wasn't a big problem back East). Or changing sugary peanut butter for the real thing and wondering what took you so long.

Well, I recently decided I was tired of using a big colander for my morning berries. I went on Etsy and found this small berry bowl. Profits went to a foster care advocacy agency and my berries are housed in just the right bowl, so all is well in Burbank for now.

Dinner with Friends

I don't have many favorite things. Maybe reacting to problem after problem on the road in a remote part of a foreign country. Or sitting on a curb in Bangkok eating pad thai after a Thai massage.

My most favorite thing is enjoying a meal with friends who are smart and interesting. I got to do that last night in DTLA, and it's so rare for me to get around to this these days. A great reminder of how I prefer to spend my time.

Food from a Truck (Daily)

No, it hadn't ever occurred to me either. And I love to complain about having only food truck options for lunch daily here in Burbank.

But this turned out to be delicious.

Squirrel!

Today I am wearing a shortish skirt with squirrels on it.

It's hot out and I read somewhere that people my age don't really age anymore, so I can wear all the squirrels I want. You should too.

On Suddenly Understanding Selfies

Traveling alone and not taking photos of myself never seemed to be a problem to me, until I was asked for a photo of me in a specific shirt. I've written a recommendation for one of my favorite independent designers, for her website, but you know what I don't have? 

Photos of me overseas actually wearing the clothes she designed. 

I do, however, have a lot of photos of my feet, and occasionally, my hands. 

Call It Homage. Bus Homage.

Finally, a bus you can sleep on! How novel!

Only...not to rain on anyone's parade, but this has been going on in China for years. I spotted my first sleeper bus in 2001, and I'm sure they'd been around a long time before I first saw one.

I actually took one in 2011. Comfy. 

I know we love to steal ideas and give them their own personal outlets and lamps, but...god, we're just ridiculous.

Will I be taking a sleeper bus? No, I'll stick with Spirit out of Burbank Airport, because I like a nice shower in the morning mixed with my cheap fare, but it's good we're finally beginning to catch up to China.

Slight Exaggeration

The trains must've gone faster in the late 1800s.

A Step Up

I got some photos of the completed new stoop yesterday. It looks so great! Plus, now I can get mail for my own little downstairs studio instead of it all going into the mail slot on the main door.

I wish I could go to Jersey City and sit on it for a while. I could sit and contemplate just how far I plan to go with renovating this 1895 row house on Breadalbane Terrace.

Breadalbane Terrace

I stumbled over this while searching for info on why my house is on Breadalbane Terrace in Lafayette, Jersey City.

The fellow on the left was descended from the Scottish Highlander Breadalbane branch of the Campbell Clan. He was a huge figure in the development of the Lafayette area.

Which might explain why my house says BREADALBANE on the side of it, but what I don't know is why the carving is in perfect shape and if it was restored to match exactly what was there before. I assume so, but I'm going to need to do some more digging.