Bedknobs and Broomsticks

I'm horrible at sleeping. The slightest movement--fiances a-shifting, cats a-leaping--wakes me up. This got worse since we moved into our new place. In the move, something wacky must've happened with the mattress, and ever since then I felt like I was sleeping on a slant and rolling into a pit in the middle of the bed.

OK, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. But imagine my delight when Alex decided it was high time I quit my complaining and decided to treat us to a sturdy, good ol' fashioned bed. After much research, I decided to settle on the new Bennett bed from Room & Board.

It's the perfect mix of modern, sleek, and light and rustic / sea breezy, and actually looks much nicer in person than on the website's photos. Unfortunately, the angle I can get in our cramped (and unfinished, design-wise) bedroom doesn't do it justice...

Excuse the awful picture. Not sure why our comforter looks all striated either. Why am I even bothering to post this?

This is my first platform bed. I've slept on many uncomfortable things in my life-- couches, air mattresses, hospital seats, a wooden bench while stranded in Milan's train station overnight-- so this feels like a little slice of heaven.

Vintage to Die For

Last week, I finally got around to calling a stove repair guy in here to fix the right burner on our stove, which had been out since we'd moved in. Since then, it's become a weeklong saga of The Old Stove That Is Probably Not Worth Saving.

Our apartment, like many in the Miracle Mile and Larchmont neighborhoods of LA, was built sometime in the '30s or '40s, which explains some of the uglier aspects of it, including our unfortunate yellow and black tiled bathroom, and our checkered red and white kitchen floor. It also gives our home some of its more charming aspects--the art deco details, the vintage door knobs, and the real, old school doorbell that actually chimes DING DONG! (which, for the record, always scares me half to death and makes me jump out of my skin).

cool vintage doorknobs

In keeping with the rest of the apartment, our landlord has stuck to this old Gaffers and Sattler stove harkening back to the same time period. It's a sturdy stove, no doubt. Its shortcomings (using a match to light the oven, smaller oven size and no window) are somewhat made up for by the charm the stove has. Cute and manufactured in the '40s, baking with it makes me feel like Betty Crocker sans apron. While I didn't love using it, I always liked the vintage look of it.

But as soon as Stove Guy told us we were lucky the burner wasn't working because the gasket was loose and therefore we were like two steps away from a gas leak, I was all SCREW VINTAGE. Cute's cute and all, but not worth a Sylvia Plath-like ending. Stove Guy #1 calls our landlord and we were all set to get a new stove. Whee! Stainless steel, I was imagining. Something fancy and new and Italian! That's when our landlord told us she'd called in for a second opinion. Doh. Stove Guy #2 came along -- Mexican vintage-oven-specializing genius George, who claimed that 1) he can fix our problem stove 2) he can install a pilot to save me fumbling with matches to light the oven and 3) modern stoves are 100x (100! really?) more likely to catch on fire because of all the electrical wiring involved. Apparently, he claimed, these old stoves were sturdy and reliable and that's why they work for 60+ years. Hmmm.

He comes in tomorrow to fix it, along with a visit from the gas company to inspect the safety of the oven. If we don't like it or feel like carbon monoxide is getting the best of us, we can opt for a newer unit, says our landlord, who's secretly hoping she doesn't have to buy a new stove. 'Til then, we're eating out for the week.

Vintage: It's not worth dying for.

Loving the Process

As an actor, I am so inundated with daily rejection and hope that's here one second and gone the next that it's nearly impossible to be...well, present all the time. Where will I be three years from now? On a TV show or serving grande mocha lattes to undeserving reality show stars? Will I ever make it? How did I do on that audition yesterday? Am I going to die poor because I'm not saving enough now? I spend so much time fretting over what will and what may never be (thank you, Led Zeppelin) that once in a while I need to tell my inside voices (I call them my crazies*) to SHUTTHEHELLUP while I go do some yoga and breathe and just...be. Enjoy and focus on the present moment because that's the only thing that really matters right now. How can you be present in a scene when you're thinking about tomorrow? This is where the new-age hippie dippie west-coast mindset comes in handy. Ohmmmm....

I don't really meditate tarot cards, don't worry.

*I also don't really call them my crazies. That would be crazy.

The same goes with living space. I spend so much time frittering over detail in our new nest that sometimes I forget to just live and enjoy the lovely things about our new home. It's good to step back every once in a while, put down that endless To Do list--install curtain rods, install cuter hooks, repaint the chairs, plant a window box--and just enjoy where we live, even if it is a work in progress.

I've never been one to try to remake a place all at once. I'd rather have my living space be constantly evolving and filled with objects that have meaning to me, rather than knick knacks I picked up in bulk at West Elm in order to have my room "finished." Early British designer William Morris (not the big 3 agency now merged with Endeavor) once said, "Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful." I've tried to follow that mantra, although not always successfully. There are a few broken chairs and swag bag-comped free DVDs of schlock like "Bad Lieutenant"--the Nick Cage version--that would attest to that.

But in honor of Morris, the socialist with a knack for making homes look beeeyootiful, I'm spending some time today to revel in some of the spaces I find beautiful in my home, finished or not. And I'm proud of it, GATdammit.

First, our most used room of the house. Here's my living room when we first saw it right before moving in:

woooooooooow a living roooom

Here it is, today.

zing!

It's an oasis where I spend daytimes rehearsing acting while the cats look out the window at the street, and evenings with my beau listening to the Beach Boys' "Smile," watching The Wire or Downton Abbey, or doing the New York Times crossword on our new iPad. How decadent! How deliciously bourgeois! The giant lamp and the mid-century regency chair I found on Craigslist from a collector and reupholstered myself. The cowhide rug I found on my first ever solo vacation to Buenos Aires, Argentina. My crazy gaudy-gorgeous regency table I also scored on Craigslist for an amazing deal by a woman who needed to get rid of sharp corners in her house for the sake of her quickly-learning-to-walk toddler (it was damaged by the movers, argh). And the good ol' Ikea Expedit shelf on the left has fixed our perennial stranded doorway shoe/sock problem by adding baskets that serve as His and Hers shoe drawers.

Note the kitty in the mirror. He's so vain, he probably thinks this post is about him.

Our faux fireplace mantel is always a work in progress. I placed some stuff there while we were unpacking and it's stayed there ever since. That's a Jonathan Adler miniature whale ornament gifted to me by my good friend, Shirley. That scary line drawing print of freakish demons and naked people on horses is something that Alex loves--and that used to hate--but have grown to love in context in its place on the mantel. And that photograph to its right--you probably can't see it-- says "It's the computer that brought us together." And it was.

Alex had been wanting a record player for a while so I found this Crosley beaut on the recommendation of my friend who is a musician and has tons of style. I liked it because not only did it sound good (besides a record player, it is also a radio, CD player, and TAPE DECK--whaaa?!) and looks perfectly mid-century cute and in place with the rest of the living room.

Here's our dining room when we first saw it:

And here it is now:

Still working on it, but getting there.  It's a lovely place to have breakfast while perusing our ever-growing pile of daily Variety. The painting was done by my dad, who's a chemical engineer-turned-artist. My beloved mid century chairs are also a score from Craigslist from a collector. Even though I love them aged and how the green paint has chipped over time, they are getting creaky and will have to get replaced soon (wedding registry?). I want me some gorgeously designed Hans Wegner wishbone chairs. One of these days, too, I'll be able to swap out my imitation Ikea Docksta table for a real Saarinen tulip table. You know, when I have an extra $1800 in my pocket. Oh look at me now, I'm already thinking about the future again. Think present! Now! NOW!

I'll end on my favorite view in the apartment, which comes from our bedroom, looking out onto the garden.

It's the perfect spot to cozy up to on a rare rainy day in LA.

but I don't wanna go to school, mom!

Well, there you have it. I'm present and stuff. Now what do I have to do tomorrow? I'm gonna go make a list.

Garden of Delights (Part II)

We're having friends over this Saturday for a housewarming/informal engagement/birthday party for Alex of sorts, so I decided to get moving on the garden so that people can sip their cocktails under the afternoon sun amidst ivy-covered walls, followed by a brisk game of doubles tennis on our clay courts and then a dip in our pool and a teatime snack of some cucumber sandwiches...

Fine. So Great Gatsby this is not, but I can at least make the garden as gardeny as possible, no? My dream of Francis Hodgson Burnett's gorgeous secret garden, covered with hanging wisteria and pomegranates and birds, will have to wait, but in the meantime, we got good ol' Target.

It's amazing what you can do with just a few bucks at this wonder store.  I swung by their garden section yesterday and picked up some new cushions ($9.99 each) for the wicker chairs that we inherited from our previous tenant. I don't love these chairs--they're very middle-aged-cat-lady--but until I have money to buy new outdoor furniture, I figured I could, in the meantime, spice up the space with a few modern red touches. Here are a few pics of the garden from before.

This is my garden's "hobo alley." Hoping we can eventually put a BBQ grill or some fruit trees here, if we get enough sun. I'll also have to toss out our resident hobo.*

*There is no resident hobo. But if there were, I'd gladly share our baked beans with him.

The road to perdition. Or amazing barbeque chicken legs.

Welcome to Drearytown.

The cushions on these chairs were all gross and soaked with seasons for rain and encrusted with old berries and leaves. Here are the new cushions:

I then took a trip to my favorite place Anawalt and made friends with a friendly gardener named Carlos, who advised me about what types of flowers to plant for our part sun/part shade space. Our conversation in "Spanish" was a comedy of errors.

I settled on begonias...

...as well as an Easter Mix, some poppies, and a few other cute shade plants. I repotted them and put them in the one corner of the garden that gets decent sun in the afternoon.

Getting my hands in that soil made me feel like a proper Martha Stewart. One with the earth. A descendent of Goddess--ok, nevermind. It just felt dirty and fun, kind of like making mud pies. It's cool to see the roots of plants and get all up in their business.

oooh, i'mma pot the shit outta you.

I decided to plant some of the extra stuff in the ground. The soil is pretty dense and clay-ish, so I added some potting mix.

little secrets.

The thyme from the kitchen windowsill got his own home...

...as did the rosemary. Hope this one lives. 

Get ready, potatoes!

I found myself being watched as I was busily gardening...

If you see something, say something.

And decided to let the fauna meet the flora...

Miniature lions in their natural jungle habitat.

Also added a little lantern. I'd love to hang a string of market lights, but I can't seem to find a working outlet. In the meantime, I'm looking at solar-powered lights. Anyone have any experience with them?

And coming eventually: A bird bath, a humming bird feeding house, a fire pit, and some hanging glass balls or some shit. 

I can't take credit for this awesome flowering cactus thingy. But it's my favorite part about this garden, especially the luscious view it gives us from the bedroom.

I'm determined to transform this into my morning yoga haven. Ohmmmmmm~

Oh, if my New York friends could see me now...

Hanging Wall Art (Part II)

Ever since I took out my hammer, I've been on an art-hanging bender, finally putting up all those pieces of art we've had laying around. It can sometimes take me up to two years to get around to hanging things on the wall, so I consider this pretty good progress considering that we're only in month #2 of living here in our cozy little duplex in the Hancock Park neck of Hollywood.

After last week's little project putting up my grid of Cassia Beck photo prints, I decided to get working again on the office and hung up an awesome print that was a gift from a good friend who is equal parts Star Wars and Aliens enthusiast as my beau. I constructed a tableau with prints from John Derrian that I framed in some inexpensive Ikea wood, and put it right by my desk to inspire me when I'm wondering what to blog about.

It's Winnie the Pooh as Star Wars! Bear = Chewbaca! What?

I'm loving these prints of children's books illustrations of nerdfest movies that are popping up here and there. Recently A. won a print of Pixar animator/awesome illustrator Josh Cooley's depiction of the most memorable scene in the classic movie Alien (and the one that scarred me for life as a child) from Skylight Books in Los Feliz. It's now hanging in our living room among otherwise serene and femme-y decor. I find the dichotomy between the two hilarious.

Game over, man! Game over!

Next, I finally hung up this awesome framed print that we bought from my friend Eric Nakamura at his always-entertaining store, Giant Robot. We were passing by after eating a delish meal of hand-pulled Tsukeme noodles at Tsujita on Sawtelle Blvd, and I popped my head in the store and happened to see my man! Walked in to say hello and walked out with this rad limited edition print from husband and wife artists Kozyndan.

ATTACK! ATTACK!

Are those pink monkeys made of cherry blossoms attacking innocent Japanese bystanders? Why, yes. I saw this at GR's last art show and loved it. Since the shape was very long, this goes in our hallway.

Last, but certainly not least, is this print that I picked up from an antique/resale shop on Fairfax. I saw this among a pile of old prints and had to have it. It was only $3!

woof.

I have no idea when/where it's from, but it's apparently from an era when people drew portraits of their pets and put their names in quotes. This is "Byron." That is a front view of "Byron's" head.

Yay, art!

Garden of Delights

For the first time in my life, I have a garden!  When we signed the lease on this place, my mind instantly flooded with thoughts of lady tea parties, wine nights, quiet morning meditations, outdoor yoga bliss and bountiful fruit trees (gawd, think of the lemons and figs I could grow!).

In reality, the garden's just been sitting there, overgrown, waiting for me to make an imprint on it. My goal is to get it in shape by the spring (it comes third on the priority list, after fixing up the office and getting our curtain hooks installed). In the meantime, I've drawn some inspiration from my favorite garden store here in LA, Rolling Greens. Not only do they have really awesome, modestly-priced plants, their aesthetic is right up my alley.

After an audition today for an unnamed Schwarzenegger sci fi blockbuster remake and another for one of my favorite retail stores, I found myself nearby on Beverly Blvd, so I stopped by just to browse for a while.

They also have all sorts of design books, food books, frou frou bath stuff, and things that make you wish you lived in a French country dream home.

I love these colorful hand dipped candles they sell:

double rainbow...what does it mean?

As well as awesome John Derrian knick knacks that are always too expensive for me:

Oh, John. Get cheaper and I'll buy you.

I brought home a big bushel of rosemary, which apparently doubles for catnip:

dude, i'm so hiiiigh

As well as some nice big branches of apple blossoms. The glass cylinder vase I found on a street a few years ago, and the mid-century regency chair I got on Craigslist when I first moved to LA. It originally came with an ugly red velvet, so I reupholstered it with some more modern fabric, and made a pillow out of the extra material. The floor lamp and the West Elm white vase I got for free from a good friend who worked in the art department on The Apprentice. So, yes. Both used to be in The Donald's office.

Ahhhhh...Rolling Greens. If only my garden looked like you. A girl can dream, right?

Transforming a Dinosaur: Repainting an Old Dresser

When we moved into our new space, we inherited a bunch of the former tenant's furniture. From what I can gather from the heavy smoke, telltale signs, and her style choices, she was a middle-aged writer who'd written some travel books, chain-smoked something gross, had a penchant for African knick knacks, and had feathered blonde hair.

Most of her stuff went to Goodwill, but being in need of a large desk, a dresser, and a mirror, we were able to keep some of her stuff and save ourselves the cost of having to buy new furniture. Problem was, her style was completely different than mine, so I decided to grease up my elbows and get in touch with my DIY side. First project: the dinosaur of an ancient dresser she left in the bedroom. Originally I'd wanted to donate it, but after the beau mentioned he needed a place for all those socks, I decided to embark on transforming this into something we could actually use. It's solid wood and in decent condition, but needs some major updating.

Here's the original:

yuck

A jaunty adventure to Home Depot--which is always fun, as a woman*--brought me back home with some 80 grit sandpaper, Glidden primer, wood filler, Zinsser oil-based cover stain primer, Floetrol paint conditioner (the values of which I learned from Centsational Girl), Minwax Polycrylic Protectant, a nice quality angled paint brush, and a sponge roller. I thought this would be a fun little 1 day DIY project. Little did I know I was about to embark on a super annoying 5 day journey that would rival the path to Mordor.

*Being a woman at Home Depot makes you into a target for advice from ALL menfolk.

Day 1: I finagle my man to help me carry this behemoth of a dresser out into the garden so I can begin sanding. After lots of huffing about having to move all aforementioned socks into his suitcase, he gallantly helps me haul this dinosaur into the garden so I can have lots of ventilation and work space.

Dinosaurs eat man. Woman inherits the earth. 

Somebody's always watching.

I soon find that I can't remove the hardware because the screws have completely become stripped over time. I end up having to go to nearby Anawalt (which is a lovely hardware store within walking distance...I'll never go back to Home Depot again) to get some tiny screwdrivers and some nose hair pliers.

The taming of the screw

After some help from A. and lots of frustration, I'm able to remove all the metal hardware and get to sanding and priming. Scuff scuff scuff! I then fill the holes with some wood filler.

By then, the sun is setting, so I beg the beau to help me haul this dinosaur of a dresser into the garage. Lucky we do too, because it rains for the first time ever in LA that night. The garage makes for much darker and squishier work space, but at least it's dry. Painting late at night with the garage door open makes me feel super crafty and home-makery.

Day 2: First layer of paint. I decide I've had enough of all the robin's egg blue that's in my life and decide to go with a darker shade of blue/grey. I land on a half-gallon of Glidden's Blue-Grey Slate. My first coat goes on nice and smooth, thanks to Floetrol. But that's when I notice my first mistake. Though I shelled out for a nice paintbrush for my paint, I stupidly decided to save a few bucks for my primer brush. The coarse brush created all sorts of brush stroke lines, which I'd tried to sand, but apparently not too well. They are now showing up underneath the first coat of paint. Argh.

A few hours later, I come back to do the second coat, hoping that it will cover up the primer strokes. No such luck. Ah well. No smooth base for me. I then spend hours taping up the edges of the dresser because I've decided that it would look so cool with some white trim in Glidden Pure White, hoping that when I remove the tape it will magically look awesome.

Day 3: The paint is dry, so I lift up the tape. Doh! The edges are completely a mess!

oh hellll naww

I'd do it again, but by this time we are expecting all sorts of guests, so I have to move forward. The perfectionist in me is grumbling like Marge Simpson. Before I put on the protectant, it's fun time: time to put in the new hardware! First, I need a drill. I think about buying one, but instead borrow one from our friends, Apple-specialist Tom and the ever-awesome Sara, who is also helping to plan our upcoming nuptials. The drill's great but we lack a key to change the chuck. Doh. So at 11 pm, dearest A. drives me over to Home Depot to buy a drill key. When we get back, we find the outlet in the garage doesn't work. So gallant A. helps me haul all the drawers back into the house so I can properly drill holes for the new hardware.

bzzzzzz....

After 3 trials where the drill bit is too small for the hardware screws...Doh! The screws for the new hardware I bought aren't long enough to fit in the damn holes. SERIOUSLY?! By then, it's midnight. So gallant beau hauls all the drawers BACK outside to the garage since real estate appraisers are coming by in the morning.


Day 4: By now, my friends at Anawalt love me, so with their help I buy some new 1.5" screws that will be long enough to fit across the width of the drawers. After an 8 am jaunt to the hardware store, I bring all the drawers back inside and set to drilling the hell out of them. Yay! The hardware fits! A. helps me haul them back out into the garage, and I use the spray-on Minwax Polycrylic for a nice protectant. After all this work, I sure as hell don't want any chipping.

Day 5: After letting the dinosaur dry for a good 24 hours, I haul it all back into the bedroom with the help of my beau. He's getting pretty antsy about having a place for his socks, so this is the fastest I've seen him move over the last few days. I put in the hardware, the drawers get placed in and...ARGH! I missed some major spots! Sections of the dresser that I thought would be hidden behind the drawers are totally in plain view. I end up removing the drawers again and repainting another coat of the Glidden Blue-Grey Slate onto the face of the dresser. After that dries, the perfectionist in me takes over. I can't stand the crooked white trim. So I make another trip to Anawalt to buy some tiny crafting brushes and set to perfecting those crooked white lines and repainting some of the grey-blue.

watch out for pepe le pieu! someone's gonna get painted into a skunk

Finally, after all the trim dries, I place the drawers into the dinosaur. Not bad!

french tulips courtesy valentine's day

Success! Here's the before again:

note dirty pile of rags on top

And here's the after:

note dirty rags replaced by french tulips and chanel

Much more my style! All that work was worth it. And now, we have a nice place to put our socks.