Unapologetically Mundane

Long-Exposure Photos on 42nd Street

katie ett — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 19:00:27 +0000

My friend Anthony taught me Photoshop before I even had any idea I wanted to know it. He bought a DSLR when mine was only a pipe dream. And lately, he’s been paving yet another path for me: long-exposure night photos.

Last night, I attempted my first ones outside Kamran’s apartment, looking down 42nd Street at the Chrysler Building, the Bank of America building, and Times Square:

And of the flower shop nearby, where little old ladies walking their dogs kept stepping right in front of my camera, but the shutter was open so long it didn’t even catch them:

You just set up your tripod, set your aperture really small, set your ISO really low, open your shutter for a loooong time (preferably with a remote), and wait patiently.

I can’t wait to do more! Too bad I kind of sort of overtightened one of the legs on my tripod last night, broke off the pin, and now have to use it at about waist-high all the time. Low-noise night photos are worth bending over for, right?

Best NYC Store Names #2

plumpdumpling — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 17:00:55 +0000

On my bus ride to work from Kamran’s apartment, I pass through the outer edge of Chinatown and see a store with the worst/best name ever: New BJ.

please excuse this crappy merged Google Maps image

Apparently it’s a 99¢ store, but the review I found on Yelp is just what I was hoping for:

There’s nothing worse than a used or distressed BJ, amiright?

Giveaway: Geeky and Chic Necklace and Ring Set

katie ett — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 17:00:30 +0000

Last month, while trying to figure out if I’m a child or a lady, I linked to this ring from the Etsy store Geeky & Chic:

Well, since then, I’ve added pretty much everything from Teresa’s store to my Etsy cart. It’s all just so cute!

Harry Potter LEGO earrings, LEGO ring, Scrabble letter ring, LEGO necklace, Indiana Jones hat cufflinks, fleur-de-lis rings

Well, my near-creepy adoration has paid off, and Geeky & Chic is offering up a necklace and ring set free to one of my lucky readers! Amazingly, this is exactly the thing I would’ve wanted to give away if given the choice, and it was Teresa who first suggested it! I just think it’s so pretty but quirky, geeky but chic.

The winner gets to pick his or her color and choose whether to have Swarovski crystals or roses on the necklace and ring.

Adorable, right?

How to Enter:

1) Leave me a comment. You can tell me your favourite item from the Geeky & Chic store, what color you’d choose, a sob story about why you deserve to win, your middle name–whatever. Make sure you fill out the field in the comment form with your e-mail address so I can write to you when you win.

2) Like my Unapologetically Mundane Facebook page for an extra entry. Just comment separately and let me know you’ve Liked it. If you’ve Liked it previously like a good blogfriend, you can still get the extra entry if you leave a comment telling me so.

3) Follow me on Twitter for yet another extra entry. Leave a separate comment to let me know you’re a follower.

I’ll let random.org choose a number for me next Friday. Good luck! I’m going to be so jealous of this winner.

We Have a Winner! (6)
Win a Trip on Greyhound Express! (22)

Bethany, Tracey, the Chocolate Dentures, and the Little Nubbin

katie ett — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 17:00:07 +0000

My cousin Bethany and I were born 47 minutes apart. Same day, month, and year.

My uncle called my grandpa from the hospital: “You have a granddaughter!”

And then my dad called 47 minutes later: “You have a granddaughter!”

“I know,” my grandpa said.

“No, another one!”

Growing up, Bethany and I got along–very well, I’d say–but there were little things that separated us. She was really into the outdoors, and I was really into my hair. She was really into Jesus, and I was really into shock humor that she found appalling. She was really into being a smartypants knowitall first-grade-skipper, and I was really into being a bratty tattletale who didn’t care about anyone else. But we both liked New Kids on the Block and Pass the Pigs and Mastermind, and we could play in her basement for hours when she devised “pool tests” for my sister and me to challenge our skills (comma “lack of”) on her family’s billiards table, and she once helped me learn all of the books of the Old Testament during her church service so I could impress her Sunday School class afterward.

I decided to go to OSU as a high school senior after visiting Bethany there her freshman year, requested to live on her dorm floor the next year, and had a group of movie-watching, trivia-playing, Chinese-buffet-eating friends already waiting for me because she let me hang out with her. We lived together for a year in college in what basically amounts to a slum house with a broken stair we would’ve fallen through several times if the carpet covering it hadn’t been there to save us, a random working kitchen in one of the bedrooms, exposed power lines on the fire escape, neighbors who lit our dumpster on fire, and a parking lot where our cars were spraypainted. Soon after, Bethany moved to Russia for two years, figured out she wanted to be a veterinarian, and came home to go to vet school at OSU.

And . . . something was different. Maybe we had just grown up. Or maybe the distance had made us subconsciously realize how important family is. But where I used to see this smartypants knowitall dork kid, I saw a genuinely warm and caring person who could constantly make me laugh and knew everything about me because she’d been there for all of it. Now I look forward to seeing her on holidays and try to spend extra time with her and her mom before big family dinners, making their famous cloverleaf rolls and pumpkin rolls and exchanging gifts that only we would be amused by.

So when I only had time to see Bethany on Christmas and New Year’s Eve during the first week of my last visit home, I talked my best friend, Tracey, into driving us to see her in Portsmouth, Ohio, which is the halfway point between our hometown and Bethany’s new vet job in Kentucky. We were using some pretty crappy directions we’d printed out, got ourselves lost in downtown Portsmouth, and found ourselves driving across the Ohio River into Kentucky accidentally. U-turns are illegal in Ohio, but when we got to the end of the bridge, we decided we were technically in Kentucky, and Tracey swung her car around right there in the middle of the intersection. We cheered and high-fived and congratulated ourselves for being total badasses.

We had dinner with Bethany at a BBQ joint called Scioto Ribber (See what they did there? It’s a play on the Scioto River! Which I challenge any non-Ohioan to pronounce.) and then went for dessert at DQ (even though there was a cute local place right across the street), which is really the whole point of this post.

Bethany’s ridiculous faces as she enjoyed her Blizzard:

And Tracey’s ridiculous faces as she tongued the little nubbin on the top of her sundae and then found a dentures-shaped piece of chocolate in the cup:

Good times.

(nubbin!)

Rich in NYC

katie ett — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 17:15:13 +0000

The best way to show you’re rich in NYC is to own a white coat and to keep it dry-cleaned.

As-Wordless-As-I-Get Friday

katie ett — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 17:00:37 +0000

Some random New-York-y pictures I haven’t had any other occasion to post:

a technically crappy picture that I nonetheless enjoy of Kamran in Beekman Place, overlooking the East River

the Chrysler Building on a cloudy day

the gate at the end of a street overlooking FDR Drive and the East River

the Upper West Side at midnight

a little lion someone left behind on the East River Esplanade

Noel. No-EL. Knoll. NO-uhl.

katie ett — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 17:00:39 +0000

I’ve met my blogfriend and yours Noel five or six times now. We found each other through a girl I went to high school with, and I was immediately drawn to the way she can write soulfully about seriously provocative issues without turning hippie-dippy or New-Age-y. Noel’s husband was a few years behind me in school, so I was aware of his brother, and he was aware of my cousin, and Noel had been to all of my favourite places in Ohio. Like my hometown. And the one and only pizzeria in it. And the Circleville Pumpkin Show.

Noel gets mad that I sometimes mention our dates here but never show any pictures of us together, so I’m continuing the trend (mostly because I didn’t actually take any pictures of us this time around). Here’s a picture of my best friend, Tracey, holding Noel and Ryan’s son, Silas:

Did you just feel your reproductive system cry out a little? No? Mine, neither, but let me tell you that Silas is twice as cute in person as in pictures, and this was in the rain when he was in need of a nap and had just watched us gnaw on burgers at Max & Erma’s for an hour while he had, like, peas or something.

Later in the week, Tracey and I met Noel again for dinner at The Cheesecake Factory while Ryan watched the kid, and we talked about families and teaching and boys and blogs and boobs. Then we went to see My Week with Marilyn, in which Michelle Williams had my hair, and in which Hermione Granger didn’t get naked, and in which I snorted so loud when Marilyn Monroe announced that Abe Lincoln was her dad.

And thus concludes the December meeting of blogfriends who pronounce their names weirdly.

The Time That All the Bad Things Happened in One Single Night

katie ett — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 17:00:11 +0000

Kamran was already mad at me. The night before, I had been exhausted from walking around Brooklyn with a visiting friend all day, and his good mood was really pinching my nerves, so I’d laughed when he’d stubbed his toe on my suitcase, which was still sitting in the middle of his floor since coming back from Ohio, and I’d said, “THAT should bring your mood down a little!” It was a joke, but he hadn’t liked it. But I’d thought it was funny and refused to apologize.

There was also the problem of the fly that had inexplicably shown up in his apartment days before and was insisting on landing on our heads while we ate. (And everyone knows flies poop every time they land.) A fly swatter was in order.

So we walked up the street the six blocks to the hardware store, which wouldn’t have been a problem had my feet not still been burning from all of the walking I’d done that weekend. So in addition to being mad at me, Kamran was also having to walk ve-e-e-e-ery slowly so I could keep up with him. Except that he was impatient to get to the hardware store (and then the grocery store and the Middle Eastern place where he wanted to get dinner), so he kept walking ahead of me and then stopping and waiting, which was making me anxious, which was making me try to walk faster, which was making my feet hurt more.

We got to the hardware store, and he hastily asked the guy at the counter where the fly swatters were without saying thank you, and then he hastily asked a second employee for the same directions without saying thank you, and then he grabbed a fly swatter and handed it to me to bring to the counter, all of which is very unlike him. So now I was in a bad mood, too.

And it was then that Kamran realized he’d forgotten his wallet. And I never bring my wallet to the grocery store, because he never lets me pay, anyway, so we had the guy hold our precious fly swatter at the cash register while we went back to Kamran’s.

And it was then that Kamran realized he’d forgotten his keys. And I thought it was soooooo ironic, because I’m always pushing him out the door whenever we go anywhere, and he’s always complaining that I don’t give him time to get his wallet and keys, but I’d specifically hung back that night in order to not add insult to injury in light of the whole stubbed-toe situation.

So we walked/hobbled back to his building in the cold and asked the doorman for the spare key. It didn’t work. We went back downstairs and asked if there was another one. There wasn’t. We wiggled and jiggled the crap out of that thing. We tried popping the lock with the keyring. We tried being rough with it and then gentle with it. It didn’t work.

In my infinite wisdom, I asked the doorman if there’s any specific locksmith the building uses, and he took it upon himself to call one for us. I didn’t ask him about the cost, because of course he was going to call the cheapest and best locksmith for us, right? We sat in the lobby in silence for ten minutes until the guy showed up, and he replaced the lock in five minutes.

For $360.

Payable in cash.

Immediately.

He’d walk to the ATM with us.

And then we had to walk/hobble back to the hardware store and grocery store after that still. And then Kamran asked me to finally take my suitcase back to my apartment, but it had lost a wheel when my cabbie yanked it from his trunk and got it caught on something, so it was lopsided and scraped the floor wherever I moved it, and I knew it was going to be the biggest pain to get back to Brooklyn, so I cried for two hours.

So it was basically the worst night in KamKat history. But we came out of it not being mad at each other somehow, so there’s that.

Blogfriends in The ‘Burgh

katie ett — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 17:00:49 +0000

I have to admit that the first time I read Cassie‘s blog, I didn’t know quite what to think. Well, actually, I did know quite what to think, and what I thought was that she was some mostly-unemployed teen mom who wasn’t sure who her dad is. I wasn’t totally unjustified:

1) She and her husband decided to start having kids right away, so even though they look really young, they’re well out of the age range where old ladies might faint and townsfolk might try to stone Cassie when she runs by with her triple-wide jogging stroller.

2) She only works one day a week because she spends the rest of her time raising her beautiful children to not judge others by the first page of posts on their blogs.

3) Her URL may include the words “whosmydaddy”, but that’s just because she has several father figures. Not because her mom was a lady of the night with an undetermined number of partners.

Anyway. After months of being like, “Who do all of my other blogfriends like Cassie so much?”, I checked her out again and realized that for some reason, I’m really interested in this person who blogs about children, cooking, and exercise.

I know. I have no idea why, either.

So while I was in Ohio for two weeks, Cassie and I made a plan to somehow coerce my best friend, Tracey, to drive me the three hours to Pittsburgh so the three of us could, you know, stuff our faces, taunt some geese, and generally align our menstrual cycles, as women are wont to do.

We met as Cassie’s house just outside of the city and said a quick hello to the kids before thrusting them at her wonderful husband, Matt, and driving downtown to enjoy the Christmas decorations

and dinosaur decorations,

to eat some saucy Mexican food at Las Velas,

and to walk along the shore of the Allegheny. Or the Monongahela. I’m not sure.

As we were coming up from the riverfront, Cassie warned us to watch our step and to not excite the geese, who frequently attack her with their great, stabby beaks while she’s out running. She began quietly herding them using her best mama duck walk,

but of course Tracey couldn’t help but antagonize them:

Cassie drove us in her fancy rich people SUV to the neighborhood of Mount Washington, which is perched high on a cliff that overlooks the entire city and takes advantage of it with these balconies that hang out over the edge:

It was a cloudy, rainy, gross day, but the view was nonetheless amazing and had us regretting that Columbus and NYC are both totally flat:

view larger

I tried to take some glamour shots of Cassie and pretty much failed,

but I was a teeny bit more successful with Tracey, probably because she’s more used to my shenanigans. And is also kind of slutty. (Just kidding! She’s totally respectable!)

We took in all of the sights:

and then Cassie drove us from neighborhood to neighborhood, pointing out all of Pittsburgh’s landmarks, until we go to the most important one of all, Oakmont Bakery:

This place was extensive. Just cases and cases of pies, donuts, truffles, macarons, cupcakes, chocolate-dipped everything, cake pops, cinnamon buns–you name it. And all of it was astoundingly cheap. When the cashier charged me less than $6 for my mini peanut butter pie, lemon French macaron, buckeye, and black and white cookie (covered with icing on both sides!), I told her she must have mischarged me. But no.

Our diabetes satiated, we drove back to Cassie’s house to let the kids entertain us for a couple of hours. I find children really intimidating and, you know, generally annoying, but hers are both friendly and angelic, quick to smile for the camera and slow to pee on the carpet.

Claire tried on all of her costumes for us:

Luca played with everything and everyone in the house:

and Mae proved that no picture can adequately capture her cuteness (but I sure tried):

They were the

most adorable

family ever:

Even while this was happening:

Cassie did such a great job of tour guiding us that I left feeling like Pittsburgh is place not just for headsick sports fans but for real people who like amazing views, dirt roads just miles from downtown, and lots and lots of baked goods.

Thanks for the awesome time, Cassie! And get ready for our next visit, because I accidentally threw out my macaron and peanut butter pie on the way home with our Burger King trash and the wrapper for the cookie dough we ate that morning on the way to see you (what?), and you know that will not stand.

Someone Has Issues

katie ett — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 17:00:28 +0000

Why does it annoy me so much when people continue to use their umbrellas after it’s stopped raining?

A Spontaneous Christmas Photoshoot

katie ett — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 17:00:18 +0000

While I was at home in Ohio, my best friend, Tracey, wanted me to take pictures of her and her husband, Dan, with their Christmas tree. Well, he was wearing his Duder shirt,

and they found it pretty awkward that I was like, “Just be natural! Don’t pose!”,

and the cats wouldn’t cooperate,

and the only light we had was from their ceiling fixture,

and they kind of just wanted to fight

and torture one another

and eat each other’s heads,

but other than that, I think it went pretty well!

Aren’t they adorable?

It was so fun to do this spontaneously, but next time, I want to have proper lighting and to make them dress up in matching crushed velvet Christmas outfits and to have tranquilizers ready for the cats.

Happy Bigtime Birthday, Tracey!

katie ett — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 21:30:52 +0000

I know presents are the reason for the season and all, but I was really back home in Ohio for the past two and a half weeks to celebrate my best friend, Tracey‘s, 30th birthday. While I celebrated my last birthday quietly and with fingers crossed that no one would remember it was my 30th, Tracey celebrated hers with karaoke, gigantic 3-0 candles, and Justin Bieber cupcakes all around:

Tracey pretending that she’s not really into this whole party thing.

Guess who ate these in abundance and wore the Bieber rings without irony. This guy!

This is a hilarious picture until you remember that the noisemakers Tracey bought actually turned out not to make noise.

Only a party at Tracey’s house would include a bowl of just pepperoni.

Tracey totally made this for her husband’s last birthday and not for herself. Just so you know.

Tracey’s husband, Dan, presents Tracey with her cupcakes while Erin serenades her.

Graham is mesmerized by the non-noisemaking noisemakers.

Happy 30th birthday, my best best friend!

You are my life partner, my lab partner, my partner in crime, the wind beneath my wings, my baby bumblebee, the demon seed and the factor!

And I love you.

Merry Christmas + Happy New Year

katie ett — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 17:00:21 +0000

I’m visiting my family and friends in Ohio until

JANUARY 8TH!

I’m going to get so many presents, eat so many of those sugar cookies with the Hershey’s Kisses pressed into the tops of them, and do so many gay things with my best friend.

Like so:

I’ll miss you, blogfriends!

Defining My Personal Style

katie ett — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 17:00:05 +0000

I think I have split personalities. At least when it comes to my personal style.

See, most of me likes kid stuff. I’m super-nostalgic and get a lot of joy from surrounding myself with toys and games that remind me of my childhood. I grew up wearing clothes other people described as “funky”: tacky plastic rings as big as my fist, polyester bowling shirts, patent leather sneakers, corduroy pants when tight-rolled jeans were cool. I’ve grown up a little since then, but I still like weird t-shirts, earrings made out of Barbie shoes, my bedspread covered in giant jewel-toned polka-dots, and my record player that looks like the hood of a 1950s car.

But a little part of me likes beautiful things, too. The brown brocade curtains my roommate and I picked out for our apartment, the vintage mink stole Kamran bought me two Christmases ago, lace dresses worn with crinolines, pearls and pearls and pearls. Part of me yearns to be someone people would describe as “put together”. But I’m too scared of being generic to shop for sweater sets and riding boots.

I reconcile these two sides of myself by buying frilly party dresses from little girl stores like Forever 21 and ModCloth, but I remain torn. When I go to all of these nice restaurants with Kamran, I feel underdressed in even my poufiest taffeta number. But when I’m out on a Friday night in Williamsburg or the Lower East Side, I feel overdressed in my satin-trimmed “Real Housewives of Orange County”-looking shirts. When I see older women on the bus trying to look like Betsey Johnson, though, it just seems so pathetic. I don’t want to still be wearing teenager jeans when I’m 50.

I want to look like the kind of girl who lives in NYC, dates a lawyer with a Ph.D., and goes to all of the best restaurants but can still hang out at a $10 rock show in the back of some ugly bar. Does that have to involve leather pants and six-inch stiletos? If so, I’m clearly a failure, because I tried to buy expensive-looking jewelry from Etsy for myself yesterday and ended up adding this to my cart:

Can my “personal style” be a mix of polar opposite things?

Stuff I Like (6)
It’s Not All Latch Hook Kitten Rugs (8)
Stuff I Like (6)
Stuff I Like (18)
Stuff I Like: Lip Balms (9)
Stuff I Like: My Five Best Beauty Products (39)
Steve Jobs Makes My Ears Hurt (19)
What Will You Pay for Art? (29)
Boys Don’t Make Passes at Girls in Grandma Glasses (22)
Pass Me the Black Eyeliner (18)

Deep-Fried Homesickness

katie ett — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 17:00:37 +0000

Thinking about going home to Ohio in a couple of days for Christmas has me really craving the kind of fair food I can only get at the yearly pumpkin festival in the town next to mine.

Is it wrong that I evidently associate my hometown with deep-frying?

How’s THIS for Unapologetically Mundane?

katie ett — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 20:35:28 +0000

It’s just an accident that my work slippers match my tights today.

But it sure is a happy accident.

Stuff I Like

katie ett — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 17:00:02 +0000

Recently, Kamran and I were watching a nerdy “NOVA” special about the monarch butterfly’s migration from Canada to Mexico. Apparently they travel through the U.S. from different parts of Canada, avoiding death at every turn, and then converge in Texas, where they form a giant swarm and fly to Mexico to spend the cold months cuddling together on trees like this:

Growing up in Ohio, we saw bazillions of monarchs every summer, and I remember my mom always telling me not to touch their wings or they wouldn’t be able to fly anymore. I guess it’s because of her that I didn’t grow up to strangle kittens and set them on fire on the high school football field like everyone else in my town. Thanks, Mom.

Inspired by this, here’s a collection of monarch-related finds from Etsy:

• edible monarch cutouts

• wooden monarch necklace

• monarch cameo

• monarch ornament and pendant

• monarch steampunk ring (only minorly monarch-related, but awesome)

• real monarch wing earrings

• bronze monarch locket

• reversible monarch necklace

• glass tile monarch necklace

And of course:

• Confederate flag monarch barrette (Oh, crap, the seller removed this! But I want the record to reflect that a Confederate flag butterfly barrette totally existed on Etsy and was horrendous.)

Defining My Personal Style (11)
It’s Not All Latch Hook Kitten Rugs (8)
Stuff I Like (6)
Stuff I Like (18)
Stuff I Like: Lip Balms (9)
Stuff I Like: My Five Best Beauty Products (39)
Steve Jobs Makes My Ears Hurt (19)
What Will You Pay for Art? (29)
Boys Don’t Make Passes at Girls in Grandma Glasses (22)
Pass Me the Black Eyeliner (18)

katie ett — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 01:37:56 +0000

Every time they show one of the Real Housewives of New York or New Jersey out to eat, all I can think is, “If you’re making five figures per episode, why are you dining at a restaurant I’ve never heard of?”

Not to be a snob.

It’s Not All Latch Hook Kitten Rugs

katie ett — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 17:00:45 +0000

I recently decided that I like pretty things and went on a mission to find new craft/style/design blogs by women who suit my not-lame sensibilities. I like cutesy, and I like pink and sparkly, but I like them to be presented ironically, and I can’t handle middle-aged women calling themselves hipsters while living on the Upper West Side and wearing J. Crew.

So Liesi of the blog Too Crewel caught my eye, with her asymetrical haircut and her bearded boyfriend (or formerly bearded, at least) and her clever typography. Oh, yeah, and her crafting skills ranging from embroidery to crocheting to cooking, which somehow manage to interest me even though the closest I get to crafting is filling the refrigerator full of magnets to annoy my roommate.

This month, she gave sponsorship spots to Cassie and me and introduced us to her readers in this post, so I thought I’d return the favor.

Click on the button to check out Too Crewel!

Defining My Personal Style (11)
Stuff I Like (6)
Stuff I Like (6)
Stuff I Like (18)
Stuff I Like: Lip Balms (9)
Stuff I Like: My Five Best Beauty Products (39)
Steve Jobs Makes My Ears Hurt (19)
What Will You Pay for Art? (29)
Boys Don’t Make Passes at Girls in Grandma Glasses (22)
Pass Me the Black Eyeliner (18)

Ettiquett

katie ett — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 16:00:48 +0000

The Golden Rule, as interpreted by Katie Ett:

Unapologetically Mundane

Long-Exposure Photos on 42nd Street

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