Sterling Furniture is a fixture of the Sugarhouse area. Impervious to the now defunct Granite Furniture and the Utah monolith, R.C. Willey, Sterling Furniture has been on the corner of Highland and 2100 South for as long as I remember.
They still make their advertisements “grocers” style by handwriting letters on butcher paper.
Unfortunately, they didn’t hire a designer to do it…
It’s summer. When it gets this hot, I sweat more than I do in the winter. Sweat makes makeup go away, so I’m not even bothering to put on face makeup right now. Since I’m running in the sun every weekday, I’m getting pretty tan.
I don’t believe all those cancer people. I think the sun is good for my skin. I break out less. I look better. Maybe the sun is bad for people who have less Italian blood running through their veins, but I think my body was made for the sun.
It heals me in ways I can’t describe.
This photo is from the building where The Salt Lake Costume Company used to reside. They took down a facade and these letters were revealed. It looks like the building is being rented by someone, but they haven’t opened for business for almost two years. They are just slowly building kitchen displays under my watchful eye.
Now, they’ve removed the facade to reveal long ago covered letters.
I know it’s wrong to covet, but I want that building. I want the building and I want the neon sign. As of now, they are relatively unharmed, but that won’t last for long, I fear.
Our graffiti isn’t as inventive as the stuff you’ll see on the Wooster Collective, but I like to see it anyway. It makes Salt Lake feel like a REAL city to me as much as our Traxx system and our library.
Keep up the damage, kids! Maybe we’ll get a Fry’s here as well as the IKEA.
Download this video to your iPod
Sid is usually such a calm dog, but he has one nemesis.
For More Information:
Via:
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Tara Hunt wrote an entry about aging. She will turn 34 soon and she asked what the rest of us thought:
I know I should care about all this stuff. You know, putting on that greasy goop on my face to prevent wrinkles and all the other things my grandma did to keep beautiful. I know I SHOULD care about that stuff, but I just can’t get myself to worry about it.
I never considered myself beautiful when I was young, so now that I’m getting older, I have no fear of losing my beauty. I never had it. Can’t miss nothin’ ya never had, right?
What I DO miss, though, is the freedom to dye my hair strange colors. My hair would be bright red with a white streak at my forehead right now if I wasn’t 38 years old. Sure, I can dye my hair whatever color I want. The technology right now gives me opportunities I never had in 1987. I don’t have to work for THE MAN, so dyeing my hair bright red wouldn’t affect my employment at all. I have complete freedom to do whatever I desire with my hair, but I just can’t do it.
A few years ago, I saw a fifty-year-old woman with tattoos covering her arms and back. She looked like she was desperately trying to prove that she was still young. She was physically fit and looked good for her age, but the tattoos actually made her look older and sadly desperate. I have seen people my age with strangely colored hair and I have noticed that I feel the same about them.
I LIKE being 38 years old. I don’t want to give anyone the impression that I don’t like my age. I wouldn’t trade with a 21 year old. Seriously, I wouldn’t. If I were to dye my hair to my heart’s content, I would give the world the impression that 38 years old wasn’t good enough and that is something that I don’t want anyone else to think.
So, I have brown hair naturally highlighted by the sun. No red. No bright white streak. I’m a rogue incognito. Being 38 years old feels great and I don’t want anyone to think that I might think otherwise.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
I put the iPhone clownfish wallpaper on my Treo, but that didn’t magically change it into an iPhone. Palm told me I could play videos and music on my phone, but the hurdle to jump to get it to work is so frustrating that even I don’t want to fiddle with it anymore.
I used my iPhone money to buy a Mac because I realized that the iPhone wouldn’t be good enough for me. Sadly, my current phone isn’t good enough for me either. I can either get my laptop online with my phone, or I can easily play videos and listen to music on it. I can’t have both right now.
I’m not shelling out 700 smackers for a phone that won’t get my laptop online, but I’m still jealous of all those people who don’t need to use their cell phone to its limits.
I had a dream that everyone was getting an iPhone except me. The truth is, we have enough money to buy one, but I’m not going to spend my money on a phone that isn’t enough.
I changed the wallpaper on my Treo, but that doesn’t make it an iPhone. I’ll be glad I kept the Treo the next time we’re stuck in the boonies and can’t get Internet service. I just have to keep remembering those times.
I’m still going to go to the iPhone World Premiere at the Apple Store, though. I don’t want to miss out on the excitement, even though I have to miss out on the ownership.
The Simpsons Movie is coming out soon, and their website is pretty fun to play with.
Meet Laura Simpson. It’s nice to know what I would look like if I ever got famous enough to get on an episode of The Simpsons. I think I’ll live in obscurity instead.
I should be working. Instead, I’m playing with the Simpsons website. I hope Mike doesn’t fire me…
Powered by Twitter Tools.
I woke up this morning to the smell of lake stench. I love the smell of The Great Salt Lake. The smell reminded me of my childhood in West Valley, where that scent is much more common.
Somewhere between the smiling morning and thirty minutes, I started feeling crabby. At first I thought it was one person that set me off, but after going off on a few people, I realized it wasn’t them. I was just being a big crabcake.
I tried exercising, weight training, writing in my personal journal, and just stepping away from the computer, but none of that worked. I finally just went outside and sat in the shade. A little sun therapy did the trick and suddenly, the world felt right again.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
While sitting at the airport, my friend Tish had a revelation. There are too many people in the world trying to prove that they are not getting old.
I started to write a comment in her comments section and it got WAY too long for a comment, so I’m posting it here:
Ah, sweetie, it’s alright. I promise.
I know you’re worried that Twitter and Jaiku seem like so much one-sided conversation, but they both depend on the friends that you allow into your network. If you have shallow and self-centered friends, then all you get are quippy comments. If you have intelligent friends, then you end up with enjoyable conversation and a sense of community.
Twitter has been a godsend for me because I feel less isolated in Salt Lake City. I have found the Utah Geeks to Twitter with and I’m closer to my far away friends.
That mother-daughter dressing thing, though. I totally agree with you. It screams a fear of aging. I want to pat them on the arm and say, “It’s going to be fine, honey. Being old isn’t nearly as bad as MTV told you it would be.”
The whole post got me thinking about being old. I’m only 38, but I’m heading into the realm of the ignored. Just because television and movies ignore me, doesn’t mean I don’t exist. It just means that they don’t get my money anymore. And I have ALOT more money than I did when I was in the favorite demographic.
Hey, Movie Producers out there! I want to see an action flick with a forty-year-old woman as the hero, please. Make her really girly and nice, but completely able to blow your freakin’ head clean off. Could you do that for me and not make it ironic? We’re out here. I’m a nice girl who is very polite, but cross me and you will wonder where that girl went for about fifteen seconds. Then you’ll be dealing with pain.
Okay, that’s a total lie.
But I’d like to be that kind of girl, so please make a movie like that for me, okay?
Note to self: buy this album!
Is it wrong that I relate more to the prissy redhead that Avril is being mean to? I know I’m supposed to root for Avril, but I’m more like the nerdy redhead in the pink sweater. I’m so conflicted.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Just learning how to use iMovie. I should have called this movie, “How to make a grilled cheese sandwich with one hand and two begging pets getting in the way,” but there wasn’t enough room on the marquee for it.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
I’ve been trying out new contacts. They are soft contacts and I’ve had just as a difficult time adjusting to them as I have the gas permeable contacts I have lived with for the last five or six years.
All day on Tuesday, my left eye was feeling goopy and itchy. I used the allergy drops a couple of times, but it didn’t help. I know I’m not supposed to use the allergy drops when I’m wearing contacts, but I did anyway. I’m random that way. You never know what kind of crazy stuff I’m going to do. Tomorrow I just might wash the lights with the darks. You never know.
Anyway, my eye was bothering me so much that I just took out the contacts. When I did, I got a bad surprise. My left eye was massively dilated. This is a picture of it hours later when it was BETTER.
After much panic and Googling, we ruled out stroke and brain tumor. Turns out the allergy drops can dilate your eyes. Neither of us had ever noticed that side effect because we usually use it in both eyes.
Michael is the best Google Doctor ever!
Update 12-13-2011: I received this email today:
On Dec 13, 2011, at 8:43 AM, Janice VanCleave wrote:
Sent via the form at lauramoncur.org
Laura,
I write science books for kids and have a science website. Will you give me permission to use your picture showing one eye dilated on my website?
Also, are the allergy drops generic? I am wondering if the drops cause the eye to dilate without the contacts. Does the medication affect the contacts? I am trying to figure out why wearing the contacts is a factor. Doesn’t the eye fluid constantly flow under the contact?
Janice,
You are welcome to use this photo for your books as long as you include this caption:
Photo via Laura Moncur at http://laura.moncur.org/archives/2007/06/21/one-eye-dilated/
The caption must be by the picture, not buried in a photo index or acknowledgements. As long as your publisher can accommodate that, you can use the photo for free. If you wish to use it online, you must include the same caption AND link to my site. I make my living writing on the Internet, so links and proper acknowledgement are the only way I get paid.
The drops that I used were Opcon-A (Naphazoline and Pheniramine). Here is the link for the WebMD site:
http://www.webmd.com/drugs/drug-15827-opcon-a+opht.aspx
I’m not a doctor, so I don’t know about WHY it causes dilation, but the precautions list blurred vision, so I suspect it affects people who use it without contacts as well.
Best of luck,
Laura Moncur
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Mike has been trying to convince me to switch to Mac for months now. I finally acquiesced. I spent my iPhone money to do it, so I won’t be camping out in front of the Apple store on June 28th. That’s better for me, actually, because then I can find out what the iPhone is like before I plunk down the money on one. I’ll just survive with the Treo 650 until then. Not too shabby if you ask me.
By the way, if you get a chance to play with a Mac, fire up Photo Booth and have a laugh. I took twenty pictures of myself, just cracking up after each shot. This one makes me look all Emo, though.
My official photo in the sidebar at the right of this page took me hours of work in Photoshop. A couple of minutes playing with Photo Booth, and I had a couple of better ones with no effort.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
I love to read about other people’s fathers. This story warmed me:
Make sure you take a moment and wish your dad a Happy Father’s Day for me, okay?
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
I have a huge pile of links that I was going to write about, but never did. I’m just going to clear them out here:
Note to self: Crochet this for myself with red yarn:
I wanted to talk about the long-dead people in this photograph:
I love handwriting fonts. This looked like it would be perfect for me, but I’m too cheap to try it out.
I think I linked to this so that I would post about it on The Gadgets Page. Now, I don’t care anymore…
Last time I tried to make my own shoes, it kind of was a fiasco. These look like they might be a little easier:
This is a list of the greatest local TV commercials. I wanted to watch them. I was hoping the Stack It Deep and Sell It Cheap Guy from D-Mart would be there.
None of these really deserved their own entry, so I just put them all here. Sometimes I just need to clean out the slush pile and start over.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
I was doing a writing exercise and it suggested some possible happy memories that I could write about. “How I Lost My First Tooth” was on the list.
NOT a happy memory, but an interesting story, nonetheless.
We were all in a tree. I have no memory of climbing the tree. Frankly, I’m surprised I was able to get up there, but up there I was and I had no idea how I was going to get down.
The others were swinging down using a cord attached to a branch. One, two, three, they all swung down, finally leaving me alone in the tree.
“Swing down! It’s easy!”
“It will hurt my hands.” The cord was thin and I imagined it cutting into my hands.
“No, it’s easy, I’ll show you.” He quickly climbed back up the tree and swung down again. He was a lot smaller than I was. I was a fat girl, you see. If I held that cord, it would cut my hands.
“Why don’t you put the rope in your mouth?”
That made sense. My teeth wouldn’t get shredded like the skin on my hands. I had seen a lady on Circus of the Stars hang by her teeth and twirl around and around. If she could do that, I could swing down with a rope in my mouth. I put the cord into my mouth and jumped.
When I woke up, all the kids were surrounding me. The dad was there too. Where did he come from? There was the taste of blood in my mouth. My mom never let me play over at their house again.
I never found my tooth.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
I’ve just posted a new installment of my fiction weblog, Merriton. You can read it here:
I have been working on this storyline and I have weekly entries to take us through August. If you haven’t been reading Merriton, then it’s probably best to start at the beginning.
If you are missing new episodes of your favorite television show, try reading Merriton this summer. You’ll get a weekly dose of life twelve hours from San Francisco.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Friday, I took my camera with me on my run and took pictures of everything that was red. There were far too many flowers, signs and cars to include them all, but you can see the collection here.
My favorite is this chair. I see it every day on my run and it represents the end for me. I’m almost home and soon I can walk and after that, I can stop and stretch.
I think I’m finished with the red thing for now. It feels like my color now and I can stop obsessing about it.
Powered by Twitter Tools.
Tomorrow I’m going back to Weight Watchers. I just can’t do it on my own. Of course, that means that we took a drive down to Orem for fresh Krispy Kreme donuts. Mostly just for a nice drive in the Prius, but also for a donut. It’s like I haven’t learned anything.
Powered by WordPress
(c) 2003-2007 Laura Moncur
