on a scale of 1 to nerd, nerd.


Bowls. Rob Cartelli Ceramics
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In high school, I took ceramics a lot, told AP physics to suck it, and was still Valedictorian because it was rural Indiana and just showing up not pregnant meant you were graduating cum laude [insert sex joke here]  Haha I just said insert.  Anyway, I completely forgot about this until I saw a photo of Rob’s bowls on my friend Rachel’s blog, but I loved that class so much that the one and only magazine I subscribed to back then with my hard earned B&N minimum wages was Ceramics Monthly.
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Life ..was …G…R…A…N…D….

totes.


Typographic. Alphabet Bags
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One of my absolute favorite under-the-radar lifemoments used to be when someone would call my name out loud.  In high school, just one hallway holler of  “MARSH!” and suddenly my whole head space was prepped, cleaned, and ready to host the world’s most epic sleepover.  In college, however, my friends and acquaintances seemed to prefer the rumblings of a really good full name, so my instant  mood elevator sounded a lot more like “Ehhhhhhmeeeeee MARSH!”  Nowadays though, living in a place full of strange and unfamiliar nobodies and somebodies, my goodtimes rarely originate in this way.  Of course there’s the occasional, ohmygodwhatareyoudoinghere, but actually recognizing a passing streetface and yelling his or her name out loud at full volume in the middle of the city seems to just thoroughly exceed almost everyone’s threshold for awkward terror (mine included). That’s why these made my day:
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they’re kind of like those
shoutouts from my familiar.
totes! right back at ya.

we don’t need no water.


7th St & 1st Ave. One of Mine
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“In Texas, we have something we call ‘the Cortez moment,’ which refers to when the great Spanish explorer and conquistador of Mexico came and set up camp and then burned his boats.  The phrase ‘burn the boats’ means there’s nothing but forward, onward, no turning back or running home scared . . . When you move here, if you’re any good at all, you burn the boats.”

– Dan Rather (arrived 1956), My First New York

@myliquidhandsoap: start packing, kid.


Mason Jar Soap Dispenser. Midwest Finds
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I’m going fucking nuts on how incredibly gorgeous my new liquid hand soap smells.  One sniff and it’s 9am on a sunny skies saturday/sunday with nothing on the old to-do but a bike, a book, and a basket of muffins.  Seriously.  My best friend Joanna was visiting last week from Philly and I think I shoved my freshly washed hands in her face for smell ’em times far more than even a best friend should allow.  But, being the super materialistic and hypercritical Taurus that I am, the complete unawesomeness and total snoozetasticity of the plastic pump jar in which Dial packages this blessed bath product has been giving me a bad case of the frowns. So that’s why I scoured the internet this morning and ended up buying a Mason Jar Soap Dispenser.
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Scour.
Scour.
Score!

good call.


Sweet Prints. ciaShop
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“Lots of things happened in 1983. McEnroe and Navratilova were at the height of their dominance at Wimbledon, Ghandi won at the Oscars, William Golding won the Nobel Prize for Literature, the arrival of compact discs sent vinyl record sales into a steep decline and more than 125 million viewers tuned in to the last episode of M*A*S*H. All of this however was overshadowed by the arrival in Covent Garden of a small but perfectly formed illustration agency called CIA. We launched, rather spontaneously, with around twenty established artists, resolved in what they were doing and promoting a loose, expressive approach to image making.”

– Central Illustration Agency, A Potted History

make fonts, not war.


Typography by Richard Perez. Skinny Ships
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Yesterday, the WordPress theme dudes did some “minor” tweaking to the CSS of Vigilance by The Theme Foundry, a free theme that precisely a bajillion WordPress bloggers use (including myself).  Unfortunately, one of the tweaks included adding a 1px grey border to all our photos which, for those of us who blog like we’re an overzealous nerdaurus and post photos based on the assumption that our blog is 600px wide, janked the crap out of the one blessed thing that keeps us from just ending it all after fielding one too many so what do you really want to do’s from losers and strangers after copping to our less than stellar day jobs.  While I felt pretty bad for Lance, a theme dude who got caught in Bitchfest 3000 that instantly erupted in the forums following the changes, I also wanted to sucker punch someone (anyone!) for making me lose my blog boner for over 2 hours.
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But by the late afternoon (ie after Lance and his team had enough of our blogging gang bang), they kindly removed the border and my very public love affair with the internet was back on. Winz for everyone!

you, me, & robin williams.


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Together. Jennifer Nies
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Lost Boys: ..Bangarang, Peter!
Rufio: ..You . . . you man! Stupid, stupid man!
Peter Banning: ..Rufio, if I’m a maggot burger why don’t you eat me?! You two-toned zebra-headed, slime-coated, pimple-farming paramecium brain, munchin’ on your OWN mucus, suffering from Peter Pan envy!
Lost Boys: ..[chanting] .Banning, Banning, Banning is .B A N G A R A N G .!

– Hook, 1991

fuck yeah literacy.


John Krasinski, Brown Class of 2001. fuck yeah john krasinski
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Sapiosexual (n): a person who is sexually attracted to intelligence in others.
Sapiosexual (adj): of, or relating to, finding intellectual stimulation sexually arousing.

5 year plan.


Keep Breathing. Anja Mulder
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boring conversation i have all the time:
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them: ..s o o o , what do you do?
me: ..i’m a paralegal.
them: ..s o o o , you want to be a lawyer?
me: ..nope.
them: ..s o o o , what do you really want to do?
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[the end]

the fab four.


New York’s Best Hair Stylists. TONY
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Shinobu Ozawa @Sei-Tomoko Salon ($54)
“Specializing in long, layered styles as well as more out-there asymmetrical cuts, Ozawa serves a clientele reflective of the salon’s East Village neighborhood, from conservative paralegals to individualistic media types. Upon entering the sub-ground salon to a chorus of hello! from the smiling Japanese staff, you’ll be whisked to a shampoo station, where your scalp is soothingly worked over for ten minutes before you’re settled into the barber’s chair for a five-minute neck-and-shoulder rub. About halfway into the trim, Ozawa grows quiet, concentrating on the job at hand. To wrap up, you’ll rinse (again), be given a hot towel for your face before exiting to a chorus of bye-bye!”

Pros = 2 rinses , 2 massages, 2 min from my apt!
Cons = underground asian choruses (sorry)
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Francine Kelley @Salon Harmony ($72)
“People come from as far as California to have their hair cut and dyed by Kelley. The chatty stylist has been living and breathing her craft for 18 years—don’t be surprised, on a return visit, to hear that she’s been pondering your next style in the interim. Expect lively stories of her family back in the Caribbean, free bang trims and a comfy, no-pretenses atmosphere.”

Pros = 18 years experience, no pretense, caribbean tales!
Cons = hauling ass to brooklyn (ugh)
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Katie Dolinar @Fringe Salon ($102)
“Dolinar’s easygoing personality paired with Fringe’s vintage-cozy vibe is a match made in haircut heaven. In her four and a half years with this seven-chair Lower East Side salon, the Ohio native has perfected the stylish (without looking styled), indie-gal cut: long, layered and totally low-maintenance. Top your new ’do with Dolinar’s signature fringey bangs or effortlessly sculpted side swoop and stand by for compliments from strangers. The fact that her cuts grow out ridiculously well means you won’t have to lay eyes on the salon’s exposed-brick walls, tiled floor and high tin ceilings for quite some time—though we’re betting you’ll probably want to.”

Pros = haircut heaven, great growouts, compliments from strangers!
Cons = signature indie bangs (the last thing I need)
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Kate Schlichter @Bumble and bumble ($132)
“A trip to Bumble and bumble—with its perks like massaging shampoo chairs and an in-salon cafe—is a treat no matter what. But when we need to get serious, we ask for Kate Schlichter. This woman is literally a master: A trainer at the Bumble & bumble University for the past six years, she instructs visiting stylists from all over the country. When she’s not teaching, she cuts hair at both Bb’s pristine midtown salon and its edgier counterpart in the Meatpacking District. As a stylist, Schlichter is a creative chameleon. “I’m not a hairdresser-y hairdresser,” she says with a smile. Translation: She caters to little old ladies and mohawked skater chicks with equal ease, tailoring her approach to clients’ personalities. The proof is in her subtle cuts, which get months of mileage without losing steam.”

Pros = master hairdresser, subtle cuts, bumble & bumble typeface!
Cons = a touch pricey (for now)
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Thoughts?  I really want to make this next cut count . . .

lost boys.


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a. ..This pilot’s good looks lasted only minutes before his corpse was hanging from a tree.
b. ..He’s outwitted and beat up by Kate a lot, which makes him the worst US Marshals ever.
c. ..An attractive Other? It’s kind of like being the best house on a really ugly block.
d. ..He looks like he stepped off the set of a Burt Reynolds movie.
e. ..This death-obsessed misfit makes snarky wisecracks under his breath.
f. ...Diet Sayid: same great intrigue, half the sexiness.
g. ..He’s been good looking for more than a century. His secret? Guyliner.
h. ..Not just anyone can pull off the skinny-tie look on a tropical island.
i. ...He’s a cynical wise-ass, die-hard romantic, and himbo man-candy.
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1st person to pair these ill-fated fellas to their Nerve bios will win something awesome.

summer bs.


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my instincts are shot.
umm, maybe, & i don’t know –
they might be in charge.
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(i could be wrong, though)

the absurd few.


Calvin and Hobbes. James Hance
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“. . . the privilege of absurdity; to which no living creature is subject, but man only.”

– Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan Chapter V

apppollo apppollo.


Scrabble Tiles Alphabet. Leo Reynolds
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Molly is a stranger.
She agreed to talk to Nerve.
I like her a lot and this is why:
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What do you look for in a guy?
Apparently the guys I like are emotionally unavailable and sad, like, “Some girl hurt my feelings five years ago so now I can’t talk.”
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Who are these pussies you’re dating?
I’m not going to say any names, but they all live in Brooklyn. And I meet them all on OkCupid.
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I’m on OkCupid! It always starts out so well!
My friend met her boyfriend on OkCupid and they’re very happy together, but before that she called it OkCrazy. She once went on a date with a guy named Apppollo — no lie, three Ps in his name. He smelled his hands throughout the entire date.

at least we didn’t go to hollister.


Pretty Things. Roxy
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Normally, the only time I agree to meet up with the euro-strangers crawling on Broadway between Spring and Broome is when Bloomingdales is having their game changing 50% off all the merchandise that’s already on sale sale so I can stock up on fancy work shoes and perfume with little to no remorse.  Last Friday, however, I somehow found myself over there amidst a slo-pack of lumpy out of towners without a single bloomingsale in sight.  The reason?  My friend is super short and wanted to buy some kids jeans at Roxy.
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Roxy. ..Really? ..Really.
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But my sour patch sad face lasted only a few moments, because their designs are actually super adorable and affordable. Some might even say they’re addorffable. What?  Some might!  Anyway, the photos above are just a few of my current favs, so I highly suggest you take a moment to click it out on the Roxy website and turn your frowny judgmental face upside down.

world wide treasure hunt.


Lumpen Cover June 2009. Chad Kouri
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“Chad Kouri spends most of his time in alleys looking for treasures to build out his found-art collages and illustrations. The rest of his time is spent writing emails to people he has never met and other things to pass the day.”
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That’s Chad Kouri’s official biography.
We lead separate, but equal lives.
I dumpster dive the internet.

shots shots shots shots!


Classic Holga Camera Floursack Hand Towels. girls can tell
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Although I am neither a middle-aged middle-american mombot nor do I have an excessive fondness for !!! and emoticons, I still read The Pioneer Woman because Ree has TONS of readers who generate TONS of ad revenue and she likes to feel better about herself by giving away TONS of cool shit. On May 4, all you had to do was answer what is your favorite kind of photography? and you would be entered to win a Nikon D90 DSLR camera and a copy of Adobe Photoshop CS4.   Ooooohkay! Unfortunately, considering her target audience, the lameness of the 42,700 comments made me boof all over my keyboard:
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17 – Dineen Picerno
Pics of babies
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1232 – Kimmer
Landscape…..oh AND BABIES!!!!!
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20818 – Nancy
Babies, babies, babies!!
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Thankfully, my co-worker (ie the one who did this on St. Patrick’s Day) was able and willing to use her sassy internet powers to temper my fowl mood:
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20913 – AW
HDR! Especially of things other than babies.

a/c [slater] haters out.


Large Industrial Fan. Hindsvik
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The city was in a FOWL mood this morning.  My best guess is that it was due to extreme exhaustion from this pre-summer heat wave.  Seriously, last night was so unbelievably hot and humid that the only way I managed to fall asleep was by placing a cold, damp paper towel on my forehead, dangling my arm in front of an open mini freezer, and carefully balancing a bag of frozen blueberries on my bare stomach and left thigh.  I mean, I know we all paid it forward last summer when a certain weather DJ fell asleep and played torrential downpour on repeat for 3 months, but this kind of heated apology is not only excessive, it’s insincere.
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And since I don’t really feel like sleeping with my produce all summer, I’m probably going to spark a summer fro-mance with this dude asap.

peace out, girl scouts.


Pretty Lady. Leah Giberson
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In case you’re wondering, the working city is going crazy right now on a high five fever buzz.  Why?  Because weather dot com says that tomorrow’s high will be climbing to {wait for it} .86°F. Uhh, excuse me?  Oh, you’re serious.  Well in that case, yes for me.  So in light of this development, I’ve decided to time machine it to Saturday @ 2pm by putting together a 9-5 Friday mixtape.  Wanna join me?  I’d love a buddy.  Oh!  If you have any track suggestions in the spirit of later, day job. i got some awesome shit to do, leave me a comment yo. 
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I’ll add them mad quick.

birthday gifts for freud, clooney, & me.


My Birthday is May 6. Supermarket Favorites
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Sad News: ..My sister had to remind me that my birthday is next week.
Rad News: ..I discovered Supermarket and picked out a TON of presents.
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Seriously, for the past two days I’ve been cruising this place HARD.  It’s like a male-friendly, inside voice Etsy that even discerning dudeblogs like Werd can get behind.  So simple yet so super, their mission statement reads:
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“Hi, we’re Supermarket.
We’re here to connect you
directly with designers and
the great things they make.”
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{big smile, blushing}

trust thyself, larry.


Drugs. Oh, Joy
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Larry, a bro-tastic spinning instructor @ my gym: ..So, ..{.huff huff.}.. I was teaching this class the other day  and ..{.huff huff.}.. one of my students was all ..{.huff huff.}.., ..“Larry, you gotta play some more gay music!” ..Gay music?! ..{.B I G huff huff.}.. I don’t even know what that means.
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Then Larry put on a giant mid-90s dance remix of Don’t Cry For Me Argentina . . .