I Stole This...

...from myself.
My thrift store blog to be exact. What are you gonna do?

Here's the notification I received through email today (minus some exclamation points because, WOW someone went !!!!!!! crazy) (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!):

Hospice Foundation of the East Bay

ANNA'S ATTIC
5350 CLAYTON ROAD
CONCORD

We are having our annual book sale this weekend!
It is located at our Concord Thrift Store Anna's Attic.
We have books from every genre! Vintage, Cookbooks, Fiction, Sports, Kids, Do It Yourself, Foreign Language and much much more! And as always, our store will be fully stocked with merchandise from housewares and clothing to antiques and collectibles.


Friday January 21st
10:00am to 5:00pm

Saturday January 22nd
10:00am to 5:00pm

Sunday January 23rd
12:00am to 5:00pm

All Books will be 50% off or MORE on Sunday!!

Proceeds to Benefit Hospice Foundation of the East Bay

I'll be there. Probably tomorrow. Maybe Saturday. And perhaps Sunday. I've gotten quite a few books there before.
(Prove it, Liar!)
Fine. I will.
Past posts from Anna's Attic finds:
Ba-Zing!

Down with Pnina

So...I've been watching Say Yes to the Dress. I realize it's in New York and, who are we kidding, New Yorkers are sometimes...mmm...tacky. But come on. Really? Are there really THAT many people that want to look like a hooker on their wedding day? And although the answer is obviously and unfortunately "yes," sorry Pnina. This is revolting.

It's horrifying times like these that cause me to ask, "What would Ingrid think?"

My feelings exactly, Ingrid. My feelings exactly.

So That's What It's Called

Hi. I'm a girl. I paint my nails. I do my make up.
While I do these things, I look in the mirror and think to myself,
"Self, how can you get a job naming these products, because you are like waay more clever than these ding bats."
And I then respond,
"Self, you are just too sweet. But I don't think that job can really exist. Can it?"
Then the original me says,
"Self, just focus on your eyeliner. That's definitely not a straight line."

Well, Selves...You're wrong! That's totally a job! It falls underneath the umbrella of what's known as a Freelance Namer (seriously). Ironically enough, I found out on a website called The Art of Manliness. I'm not kidding. Go. Read. Envy this man.

BTW Proof that I should totally be a Namer:
(These would be for my new Ghetto Ghoulies nail polish line)

Gang Green
Bloods and Crypts
Silver Bullet
Pushing Daisies Yellow
Skeletor (Whatever. He's a villain.)

I could continue but who likes a show off?

I Want a Cupcake

Miglet's Gluten-Free Bakery

I don't even care. I want a cupcake from here. Seriously. No joke. Who's been here? Someone needs to take me.
And to get you on my side...

Banana Nutella Cupcake with Cream Cheese Frosting

Tangy Tangerine Cupcake with Tangerine Cream Cheese Frosting

I don't even like carrot cake but this looks amazing!!!
Carrot Cupcake with Cream Cheese Frosting

Poetry Corner pt. 2

Assignment: write your "swan song." (Swan Song? Whaat? Explanation: The phrase "swan song" is a reference to an ancient belief that the Mute Swan (Cygnus olor) is completely mute during its lifetime until the moment just before it dies, when it sings one beautiful song.)
Here we are. My last song. I'm a creeper. And yes, I took the idea from the metric imitation poem I just posted and copied the rhythm of 2 separate jump roping ditties. If you can figure out which ones, then you're a wonder. Or just a girl who jump roped a lot as a child.

One for the Children

Beatrix Potter,
Strawberry wine,
Fourteen girls named Madeline.
Hair pulled up and tied in a bun
Tilt their heads and drink their rum.

Grimm, Grimm, patronym
Killing off all your ladies
Shove them in a burning oven
Have them bludgeoned in a dungeon
Chamomile tea.

Snow. Sleep. Red. Rabbit.
Snow. Sleep. Red.

Poetry Corner

I've been lax with my posting lately, including posting my lame-o poems. So here comes a few in a row.
Assignment: Copy the meter of another poem and create your own piece.

Poem I imitated:

Question
by May Swenson

Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen

Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt

Where can I go
without my mount
all eager and quick
How will I know
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure
when Body my good
bright dog is dead

How will it be
to lie in the sky

without roof or door
and wind for an eye

With cloud for shift
how will I hide?


Mine:

Sirens

Building of sand
of only air
stones grind to ash
beneath a whisper

How do you stand
Why don't you cave
When will you fall

How many lives
will you take claim
collecting their souls
Your fateful collapse
is drawing us near
is pulling us further
You building of sand
are not my home

Charlton Heston Cordially Invites You...

Child seen here with his two friends Hermie and Bingo. They're rehearsing for their critically anticipated acting debut--Ben Hur.

I don't know any way to even begin to describe these. What were they thinking? Were they all drugged in the 50's? I'm thinking yes.
Be Prepared