The concept is that artists can submit a logo to represent their city. Fun, yes? I believe that you have to have the name of the city in the logo and it is supposed to capture the feel of the place. That’s it!

As of right now, Canada is terribly represented (in fact, I don’t think it is represented at all). If I had any kind of knack for illustration or graphic design, I would go for it. Alas, I am awful.

psst….could you do one please?

I will show you a few to get those creative juices flowing.

Hereford, UK

Hong Kong, China

Jerusalem, Israel

Manchester, UK

Atlanta, USA

Milwaukee, USA

Oslo, Norway

Apart from this week.

I knew that the days adding up to June 4th would be a little, shall we say, unique when the creepy man walking 10 feet behind me was swerving through cars exactly as I did in a parking lot on Monday. I felt like I was in a grown-up game of Follow the Leader, but I was the “leader” and a sketchy man with no coat and a few weeks of dirt in his greasy hair was my follower. Long story short, I tricked him at a cross walk and got to my destination safely. (He probably wasn’t even following me. I’m just paranoid)

The next day, on the same road, I walked past a man who yelled at me “What do you think about those (insert chosen profanity) Canucks?” Umm…they were a little disappointing, but I still like them? (don’t worry, mom, I didn’t actually respond)

I continued walking and the same man hopped on his bike and pedalled past me, shouting “The Sedin twins are a couple of little girls!” Thanks for sharing, Mr. Angry-Canucks-Fan-Turned-Cycling-Heckler.

Cut to last night.

On my way home from coffee, a journey that shound have taken me 20 minutes turned into almost 2 hours because of a horrible accident on the highway. I don’t know details, but there I was, sitting in my car as people around me got out and began wandering on the road. Some cars were pulling onto the shoulder and driving up the wrong way of a merge to get out, while I sat there like a chump with the truckers.

I turned on my trusty radio (and called my trusty Brian) to discover that the bridge was closed because of the accident. As I was learning this, I saw two truckers walking past my car. I rolled down my window and the conversation went something like this:

Me: Excuse me, but do you know any details about getting over the bridge?

Truck Driver #1: Oh dear, sweetheart, the bridge probably won’t be open until 6am.

Me: Pardon me?

TD #2: Yeah, we are going to be sleeping here tonight. You will be too, unless you can find another way to get where you need to go.

TD#1: You are more than welcome to sleep in my truck, darlin’.

(gravelly laugh)

I’ll even share my pillow.

(Blech. Why do people feel like it is acceptable to be so blatantly creepy?)

Me: (awkward laugh) No thanks, I’ll find another way. Have a good night.

TD#1: Suit yourself!

Me: (shiver…then roll up the window – the doors were already locked)

Ok, to those of you who usually have horrified faces when I tell stories like this, I didn’t feel in danger at all. The men were simply harmless creepy, just looking to get a reaction.

I turned my car onto what was becoming a detour (cops were everywhere) and Brian directed me home!

***Note: If you are reading this and you follow people in a stalking way, shout uncalled for profanities, or ask young women to share your pillow, please stop. We don’t find it amusing and are just plain grossed out.

Keep your creep to yourself, please.

On a much nicer and more designish note (and for those of you who come here for the photos), thanks to Rachel, I have been obsessed with a certain website. The idea is that these are vacation homes that you can rent for a few days, a week, or the rest of your life (maybe not an option, but I want to). Here are a few examples of my favourites.

A little Tuscan number

I suppose the view is ok

I would chop cheese and baguettes there all day

couldn't resist a lengthy dose of New York

still New York

What more could I ask for?

Even the blanket on the end of the bed looks exceptional

last one...from me (I'm sure you will click and spend hours)

Ok, I just blatantly lied to you. Sorry. I love eating way more than looking at food. What kind of person wouldn’t?

But I do enjoy improvising based on how something looks and feels as I mix it or drag my spatula through it.

This is why I hate baking. I’m sure that there are thousands of bakers who could prove me wrong, saying that there are many opportunities to customize recipes, but I am under the impression that baking is like an angry dictator.

You want to add an extra splash of milk because you like the sound it makes? Well, have fun with a saggy dense cupcake then!

You think it would be ok to skip an ingredient because you don’t want to go to the store? Enjoy your hot mush that doesn’t even resemble food.

Which is why when Brian volunteered us to make a cake for an anniversary celebration for his parents, I cringed.

*I apologize to those who I saw in the last week and told this to already

I calmed myself down by thinking two things:

1. Cake mixes are usually on sale, easy to make, and taste delicious

2. Jamie is finally home and ready to save the day, should it need saving

Later that evening, as Brian excitedly talked about the cake, he revealed to me that he wanted to make a three tier wedding cake.

Yep, that’s the face I made too.

Then he told me that he wanted to make the cake from scratch.

I thought he was joking. He wasn’t.

I finally talked him into using a mix because when you factor in cost, chance for horrible results, and time, the mix really did make sense for what we were trying to do. (Again, bakers, I apologize)

Bright and early, Saturday morning, Brian came to the house to grocery shop and begin our quest for the perfect cake.

*excellent note: as I was writing this, Giada (as in Giada at Home) just told me that if you are making simple cakes or cupcakes, cake mix is the way to go.

As Brian and I quickly discovered, you can learn a lot about your boyfriend/girlfriend in baking situations. For example, I began opening mixes and preheating the oven as soon as we got home, expecting to just start and see what happens. Brian wanted to take a few minutes, make a plan, and ensure that we knew it would work.

Ok, I know that Brian’s approach is better for baking.

We decided, after much debate, and a few questions for Jamie, that we could reasonably make two tiers with two marble layers to each tier. We made a vanilla butter cream icing (from scratch, thank you very much) and put cream, strawberries, and kiwi, between each layer. Then, a few chocolate shavings on top and a little bride and groom!

We felt incredibly proud of ourselves.

And it tasted delicious!

I will still avoid baking like the plague, but I do know that we can do it and even enjoy it….and our relationship will survive!

Our chocolate marble cake

The bride and groom enjoying the cake

But not yet.

This teeny post is a look at an artist I came across when researching the album artwork we looked at a few days ago.

Sarah Hallman

Her work is spectacular. I don’t know her, but judging by everything I have heard or seen, she is one of those incredibly artistic people who produce extraordinary art no matter what the medium.

How about I just show you some of her work…You will love it.

cd cover by Sarah Hallman

Another cd cover by Sarah Hallman

by Sarah Hallman

by Sarah Hallman

Oh, and she is also a musician. Makes you feel a little talentless, doesn’t it? I know I sure do.

I am still trying to figure out the whole playlist thing, but I will post one in an hour or so with a Sarah Hallman song on it….and a few other people for good measure.

Here is a little playlist I made for you because of the last post. I’m sorry that there isn’t any jonathan inc. on it (playlist doesn’t have him yet). So please enjoy this taste of the artists with the great album artwork yesterday:

HERE

And then go here to listen to jonathan inc.

HERE

The expression “Don’t judge a book by its cover” wouldn’t exist without the reality that we judge books by their covers. I’m not being metaphorical with this, but rather saying that it is true. My mom had this Barry Manilow record (she’s a fanilow…..but denies it) we used to listen to a kids. His face takes up the entire square (and record covers are pretty large), with his little mousy nose front and center – which is why we didn’t know his name and called him “Mouse Guy”.

I think that this post may transfer into book covers next time, but for now, I am thinking about album covers. I can’t even begin to make a top 10 list of my favourite album covers, so I will instead show you a few that I like.

Mumford and Sons - Sigh No More

She & Him - Volume One

jonathan inc. - lost:time

The National - High Violet

A variety of Joni Mitchell - always wonderful

I don’t like the wind blowing through my hair and making the little crazy pieces fly into my eye, slicing my cornea (it feels that way, ok?). I don’t like the moments when I realize that I have only been moving for a minute and I already feel tired (awesome for my self-esteem, really).  I don’t like the bouncy people who don’t sweat and have hair that stays perfectly in their pony tail without the frizzy sweaty bits sticking to their forehead. And I don’t like the people sitting on the bench watching me as they eat their ice cream and rest.

Which is why last night, I went for a run.

At 7:00pm, I realized that apart from a few trips to the washroom and one visit to the cafe, I had been sitting on my butt for the entire day. Yes, my job does require me to stay in one place long enough to write something longer than a sentence, but my body was aching for some activity.

I put on my “running gear” (code for old leggings, a tank with a hole in it, and runners) and grabbed my ipod. I have been jogging up and down the stairs in my building for the past few weeks (which really only translates into a few times, but still). I figured that having 37 floors in our building must be good for something – my bum (or at least that is what people tell me stairs are good for).

But as I grab my ipod, I glance outside and notice that the rain had let up. In fact, it is beautiful out. You know, like you can hear the beginning choral note of the Simpsons when the clouds part?

Running outside would be great (plus, there is a beautiful park nearby with running trails and a tiny lake).

Off I go.

Hey, this feels good. I’m not tired at all. I pass a building on my way to the park with tinted windows and catch my reflection. My hair is staying in its little ponytail just fine and man, do I look bouncy.

There are quite a few people walking around the lake and a couple of them look at me as I pass them (Nothing makes you feel better than other people like running by them as they walk at a slow pace – you know you think so too).

I get around the lake just fine and start on home. Not bad, if I do say so myself. There was that one moment when the gross little scruffy rat dog barked at me and I screamed, but other than that, I’m pretty happy with myself.

I get to my door, unlock it, glance backwards to the entrance mirrors – and there it is.

I forgot that I was wearing the pair of leggings that are see-through in the back. And it it laundry day, so I am wearing my bright yellow pair of underwear with the words “SO PRETTY” on the bum. Well, that is just great.

(In my defence, I thought I was going to be in a private stairwell – no wonder people were staring at me)

I’m pretty-something, I’ll tell you.

Ok, this one has to be a quick one, but here are a few shots and a little inspiration board from it.

Finding Neverland

Finding Neverland

Finding Neverland

Finding Neverland

Nice things in neverland