tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74745594451318849112024-03-05T14:16:04.922-05:00Enthusiast Endeavorsallow me to introduce myself...Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-30994894529818832772010-05-28T08:47:00.007-04:002010-05-29T23:56:05.908-04:00I am Lauren, soundsuit enthusiastLast night was the opening of the <a href="http://www.halsey.cofc.edu/">Halsey Institute of Contemporary Art</a>'s fantastic Spoleto offering...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq06QI5_xvBFc_Pz3JdVmhpvEUr57WQfTnmyH3l68olUKmkRu7aLos3CE3K_L4yHOadkefMD5afG8qFlraqN_NcTvMGE4rnjBmnxXnSqt79s__pp99Xk5nHZnQN975JEgHMpGxbJ6YS4k/s1600/callandresponse.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 201px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq06QI5_xvBFc_Pz3JdVmhpvEUr57WQfTnmyH3l68olUKmkRu7aLos3CE3K_L4yHOadkefMD5afG8qFlraqN_NcTvMGE4rnjBmnxXnSqt79s__pp99Xk5nHZnQN975JEgHMpGxbJ6YS4k/s400/callandresponse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476313220080799410" border="0" /></a>I think it's fair to say that I'm not the only one who was totally blown away by this exhibition. There's just something really spectacular about it... the utter extravagance of the work balanced just perfectly with the simplicity and sterility of the white gallery space. Very very rich. I had the incredible opportunity of being around to help install Chicago artist, Nick Cave's "soundsuits" this week and seriously, all I could think was... "these things are the BOMB!"<br /><br />Constructed of an eclectic mix of crocheted doilies, shiny sequins, beads, buttons, porcelain birds, glass flowers, human hair, twigs, you name it... Cave's soundsuits are truly a feast for the eyes. His experience and expertise as a fashion/textile designer is quite evident in how he manages to combine these various materials and kooky patterns to create these objects that are nothing short of high, high fashion. The way the mannequins are displayed, on a long white runway of sorts, couldn't be more appropriate. It's like, in entering the exhibition, you are entering a freeze frame of a fun, high-styled, high-energy couture runway show.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tPVPEL9tmBjyvS_azLf84Lc5OOb-KIUIwV5JSJEv6zeJmjOPxwYLXJre1dlGen-am7bBdmY8Y0jQIcG5zbrJxD0tdB8j_-cQqSJCzP5UiQJoubCKzOGFTUse_aRd12gpw9jM6gy73z8/s1600/nickcave.....jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tPVPEL9tmBjyvS_azLf84Lc5OOb-KIUIwV5JSJEv6zeJmjOPxwYLXJre1dlGen-am7bBdmY8Y0jQIcG5zbrJxD0tdB8j_-cQqSJCzP5UiQJoubCKzOGFTUse_aRd12gpw9jM6gy73z8/s400/nickcave.....jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476682572883859650" border="0" /></a>And then... you enter the video room in the far back corner of the gallery. While I tend to not have much of an attention span for videos, I found myself completely mesmerized by what I found. There was Nick Cave himself inside of the various soundsuits (worn one at a time) moving and shaking. Cave's history as a dancer with Alvin Ailey has surely influenced this body of work... to a great extent. This is especially apparent when you watch him carefully move within the suits. And as the title suggests, each suit makes a distinct sound when worn. This adds a whole new element to the work. Like I said... it's really quite mesmerizing... and it made me all the more enthusiastic about the show.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5YBDLhk2aSfc9qW-jrB3mb91AHhuFDVD0JgB-R_3D-HvQ__Yt84k2pGRDnAimeSi8gTblkJ95FzO8BSDWZxDsMyBfq2fl7IhvaO-VmqLhKYXnOcEfWghPUrKx1Mx2nYi6KAnlSRIR3Zs/s1600/nickcave....jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 394px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5YBDLhk2aSfc9qW-jrB3mb91AHhuFDVD0JgB-R_3D-HvQ__Yt84k2pGRDnAimeSi8gTblkJ95FzO8BSDWZxDsMyBfq2fl7IhvaO-VmqLhKYXnOcEfWghPUrKx1Mx2nYi6KAnlSRIR3Zs/s400/nickcave....jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476680172131633650" border="0" /></a>The exhibition will be up through the end of June so EVERYONE ought to go and check it out! Curator, Mark Sloan, deserves all kinds of praise for his fantastic pairing of Nick Cave's sounduits with Phyllis Galembo's photographs of west african masquerade. The work of both artists really complements each other to make for a real knock-out exhibition.<br /><br /><object height="385" width="640"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bre7fDAF6EM&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bre7fDAF6EM&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="640"></embed></object>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-1170954185443435152010-03-28T09:37:00.004-04:002010-04-04T09:42:37.598-04:00I am Lauren, Easter enthusiastI love Easter. So much. Everything about it. And this year I've been feeling more enthusiastic than ever. I guess it's because it's finally hit me... how Easter embodies all the things for which I feel so fondly.<br /><br />First of all, I really love bunny rabbits. I just do. Now, I've been known for my distaste for most animals. Puppies, kitties, horsies... they just don't do it for me... sorry. But I simply can't resist a sweet little bunny rabbit. I even had one once as a kid for a year or so... Snoopy was his name (I was extremely uncreative when it came to naming pets... for example, Change the chameleon, Spot the fish, Sam the dog). I used to take him for walks (or hops?) around the cul-de-sac on his ferret leash. I was devastated when my mom broke the news that Snoopy had been eaten by fire ants... he's now buried in the back yard under a heart-shaped tombstone that I picked out on a visit to Charleston.<br /><br />I also have a terrible soft spot for lambs. They're the sweetest, no?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBp1_OASsAKpzy8Vae_bekNwWm6Ca3Q3SdlD8eg1IKSt5iq9Zkd31Ogh86LDQn9yRgyIlJFkysAT5IHBTGwRjnY5xMBQRg0ru0xTzMFONLeFkv37CQDrrbKyJm_c2VKFkz9lysOqXBHG0/s1600/lamb..jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBp1_OASsAKpzy8Vae_bekNwWm6Ca3Q3SdlD8eg1IKSt5iq9Zkd31Ogh86LDQn9yRgyIlJFkysAT5IHBTGwRjnY5xMBQRg0ru0xTzMFONLeFkv37CQDrrbKyJm_c2VKFkz9lysOqXBHG0/s400/lamb..jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453804719637441986" border="0" /></a>And then there's Spring time. For me, Easter equals Spring... in so many ways. When I think of Easter, I recall the warm Spring sunshine and the cool Spring breeze felt when posing, year after year, outside in front of the newly blossomed flowers in my new Easter dress... my glove-clad hands grasping my new Easter basket and stuffed bunny (which the Easter bunny still brings me, to this day) for a photograph that my mother never failed to take... on our way out the door to the all too anticipated Easter Sunday church service.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUs_GsC2ZIEzZ7znYcDfPxBY9P7vC0bE36AQREoZ1Gafbv0hB7YUmwXiIBKBpzcjKW-YHGyB7rvAzLDVF9NHhwI07vyA_6QOtrzJHMA6LJAetVROSXS2RH4wRcnMq7gfXACshUgBO4AM/s1600/easter.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUs_GsC2ZIEzZ7znYcDfPxBY9P7vC0bE36AQREoZ1Gafbv0hB7YUmwXiIBKBpzcjKW-YHGyB7rvAzLDVF9NHhwI07vyA_6QOtrzJHMA6LJAetVROSXS2RH4wRcnMq7gfXACshUgBO4AM/s400/easter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456275496728666866" border="0" /></a> just before my 4th birthday... moooom not another picture!<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPO2Nak9BbJZF-UaKE5iJ5t5Se2vQUYmu1dgo6zIrggQBKAJwkE0yLIcQp5FyysZ3H3Bw5ZzbAG7a70GVkQCT8rnYa9WzdnCTamskStnRKaVwx0XmUH59Tq8PE8RryO3hBJG2qrCiXk08/s1600/easter..jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPO2Nak9BbJZF-UaKE5iJ5t5Se2vQUYmu1dgo6zIrggQBKAJwkE0yLIcQp5FyysZ3H3Bw5ZzbAG7a70GVkQCT8rnYa9WzdnCTamskStnRKaVwx0XmUH59Tq8PE8RryO3hBJG2qrCiXk08/s400/easter..jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456275519653896690" border="0" /></a> a year earlier... there's that enthusiastic grin!<br />(using favorite baby doll, shelby, as a cushion)<br /></div><br />Spring... it's all about newness and life. The flowers bloom. The baby bunnies and chickies and lambies are born. But the true beauty of Easter is that those of us who call ourselves Christians are reminded of the new life that we have all been given through the sacrifice of Christ, the Lamb of God. The events of Easter (resurrection and such) are what a faith in Christ is all about. Victorious... that's the one word that keeps coming to my mind. Such a victorious day.<br /><br />As for bunnies and egg hunts.... I don't know what that's all about... but I like it... cant help it...<br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uWDJShjv5Vg&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uWDJShjv5Vg&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-89950248673748533942010-02-06T18:40:00.003-05:002010-02-06T19:54:11.170-05:00I am Lauren, fartiste enthusiast<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcLKXh9iatGB5wziXdDOlFKkOzv-NTXfglwMhuJffDRButlZR0Qa9ldi6b1xwpfQaKZRhTDeesGzam4RZOIDcMdWF0y4LdLDx2P2XWdgWsu3GFCD52KSjkSGYgeTU4AZDvgQ25sGZiis/s1600-h/lepetomanecollage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcLKXh9iatGB5wziXdDOlFKkOzv-NTXfglwMhuJffDRButlZR0Qa9ldi6b1xwpfQaKZRhTDeesGzam4RZOIDcMdWF0y4LdLDx2P2XWdgWsu3GFCD52KSjkSGYgeTU4AZDvgQ25sGZiis/s400/lepetomanecollage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435262921982802946" border="0" /></a>Allow me to introduce you to Joseph Pujol, French entertainer extraordinaire. His unique talents have gone unrivaled. His abilities, unmatched. A truly gifted man, to say the least. Now, I'm sure you must be curious... How did this man become the Moulin Rouge's highest paid entertainer of all time? What could he possibly do that set him apart? That made him so special?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">It's rather simple, you see.... he could fart.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zO8eE2WKSvf7dctV-QV7K7BFNX23IFkndGKdeNGInROti-2q0AaRDdziQG9DVpFvtead3jkWNNspKgRRzceS8WIXhUCJhQ-k2xvbAO1Eh1YUDUschptLckm9MNL-JGTUZkMUgs20wrU/s1600-h/lepetomaneposter"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zO8eE2WKSvf7dctV-QV7K7BFNX23IFkndGKdeNGInROti-2q0AaRDdziQG9DVpFvtead3jkWNNspKgRRzceS8WIXhUCJhQ-k2xvbAO1Eh1YUDUschptLckm9MNL-JGTUZkMUgs20wrU/s400/lepetomaneposter" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435271251488447986" border="0" /></a><br />Though Pujol was known by a variety of colorful names ("flatulist," "fartuer," "fartiste") he is most famously known by his Moulin Rouge stage name, Le Pétomane, which translates to something similar to "fart maniac." Believe it or not, Monsieur Pujol was not the first professional flatulist... this profession dates back to medeival times. Who knew!! But like I said, his talents are unmatched. What Le Pétomane could do with that bottom of his was unlike anything anybody had ever experienced. He was an artiste... a fartiste...<br /><br />However, perhaps it's worth noting...<br />"It is a common misconception to state that Joseph Pujol actually farted as part of his stage performance. Farting implies the release through the anus of intestinal gases. Pujol was "gifted" in the sense that he was able to inhale air into his rectum and then control the release of that air using his sphincter muscles." (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Le_Petomane">Wikipedia</a>)<br /><br />He discovered this "gift" at a very young age one day while swimming at sea. Apparently he put his head under the water and held his breath, whereupon he felt an icy cold penetrating his rear. He ran ashore in fright and was amazed to see water pouring from his anus. And of course, the rest is history.<br /><br />This man's monologue says it all.... definitely worth your time!<br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vib5HQ7b9qw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vib5HQ7b9qw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />His repertoire, including impersonations, melodies, instrument playing, candle blowing, cigarette smoking, and more, was understandably an absolute sensation! It's been said that high profile people, among the likes of Edward, Prince of Whales, King Leopold II of the Belgians and even Sigmund Freud were at times spotted in Le Pétomane's audience.<br /><br />Since his passing in 1945, Monsieur Pujol's story has been recounted in an assortment of forms. Movies, short films, mockumentaries, musicals, books etc. I've tried without avail to find clips of the musical... because you all know what a kick I get out of comedic musicals. Oh well... I'd be just as happy if I could own my very own copy of this book...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8k8REiKrXkVCWFnJfnL8yZOXMaPVWGr94adWx01gR4Pek3bshwOgoA2nwfakmQ9VaUtjLGn7r4lSQptWh880-5lt_iUnlyTyjBEH3IsFlObItIwfnR2MUx46Cb8x71sbD0w7efyALsDs/s1600-h/fartistebook"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 332px; height: 332px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8k8REiKrXkVCWFnJfnL8yZOXMaPVWGr94adWx01gR4Pek3bshwOgoA2nwfakmQ9VaUtjLGn7r4lSQptWh880-5lt_iUnlyTyjBEH3IsFlObItIwfnR2MUx46Cb8x71sbD0w7efyALsDs/s400/fartistebook" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435278936758469554" border="0" /></a>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-38618871767188130882009-12-21T11:45:00.002-05:002009-12-21T17:22:45.455-05:00I am Lauren, bacon enthusiast<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhectOZGCvwzJuBtCcTjg6Ww68jiRMk8EkYxWZbpmnX0aeCMRgvTfsCk6z2Zhi-PaoOurADD1iu5Kr48BYtRGTQIcwoNsT5Zh7SEYP0MqAmc5IO4hc-BUOHnYUdLAnpKI_bfemF20OmKJo/s1600-h/tastes-of-the-swine.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417743654650918706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhectOZGCvwzJuBtCcTjg6Ww68jiRMk8EkYxWZbpmnX0aeCMRgvTfsCk6z2Zhi-PaoOurADD1iu5Kr48BYtRGTQIcwoNsT5Zh7SEYP0MqAmc5IO4hc-BUOHnYUdLAnpKI_bfemF20OmKJo/s400/tastes-of-the-swine.gif" border="0" /></a><br />There's nothing like waking up to the smell of simmering bacon. MMMmmmmMMMmmm!! That's when I know I'm home. Home, sweet, home. For as much as I love bacon, I never actually cook it for myself. It's always something to look forward to, a real treat. You see, my mom absolutely adores bacon... and she doesn't just cook it for special occasions (like when her lovely daughter comes home), she cooks it on a regular basis. That lady loves her bacon! She's been known to eat a whole pack ALL on her own (yet you'd never ever know it from looking at her)!<br /><br />We've always gotten SUCH a kick out of this commercial! Whenever expressing my love for bacon I often find myself impersonating this dog, ha. Befuddled looks and awkward smiles are typically all I get in return... okay, I know it's weird, but I mean, really, have you people never seen this?!?!<br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ug_iluxQ1IQ&hl=" fs="1&" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"></embed><br /><br />(yesterday morning, after enjoying our crispy bacon, my step-dad accidentally took a swig of what he thought was coffee... but it was bacon grease... HAHAHA, talk about schadenfreude!!! i was hysterical!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6XzvWJhWBpElDj6PKRqwou1orL0nANaRiO6fiE7NKcWaGQJOd7nf3Ps_YDL6m4j5feGdyjQGcH0jA1lbKXl_A4CH-ei2RtVzrXlx9dbxZcRfkdYKyTp8qrZElJ7dDppj3AL4BrfXuzA/s1600-h/baconbar"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417718216930538994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 174px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6XzvWJhWBpElDj6PKRqwou1orL0nANaRiO6fiE7NKcWaGQJOd7nf3Ps_YDL6m4j5feGdyjQGcH0jA1lbKXl_A4CH-ei2RtVzrXlx9dbxZcRfkdYKyTp8qrZElJ7dDppj3AL4BrfXuzA/s400/baconbar" border="0" /></a><br />You must imagine how thrilled I was when I came across this very special candy bar. Two years ago a bought a handful of these to give as stocking stuffers for my family... but I must admit I was slightly disappointed. They weren't as heavenly as I had expected. Not nearly as gourmet as advertised. Tasted like chocolate covered bacon bits (as in FAKE bacon, ah!!) or what I would imagine dog food might possibly taste like... beggin' strips, anyone?<br /><br />Oh well... I simply can't wait to have some handsome fellas of my own to dress up like this!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78KGAGZzJ9spgJ0lxwPJNZQ2NGaILZqqYXCCOuGi0o89HEpTKB_BVA6JbeWGwsDNjRxU1ED5Vjgo7eotEUbSdSpgMOmsr1bmLZPCKdTGrsFnXzeopKSRk2yZjsAj4VWpgoFLXY1DfXKg/s1600-h/baconbrothers"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417712300773632946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 285px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78KGAGZzJ9spgJ0lxwPJNZQ2NGaILZqqYXCCOuGi0o89HEpTKB_BVA6JbeWGwsDNjRxU1ED5Vjgo7eotEUbSdSpgMOmsr1bmLZPCKdTGrsFnXzeopKSRk2yZjsAj4VWpgoFLXY1DfXKg/s400/baconbrothers" border="0" /></a>My friend <a href="http://sarahkkraus.blogspot.com/">Sarah</a> just recently did a post on Mike Geno's bacon art. Believe it or not, he is definitely not alone in his bacon art making endeavors. It appears as though this bacon enthusiasm is a widespread phenomenon. But I mean, really, does it surprise you? Not me!<br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJW33AeAsAlZPbrMTUzn1AuAXKKWTgjIwuKWoSSDRpgNb_iaawP7raGDtu9VV0ViterGaCVesrbTecRKnsEhk8ZFsuyVdT-6mPXYPb-4S2ieMQ8VbGxQMT7CqNsjSmqeyK1bxW84Jm0/s1600-h/baconcollage.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417726039732374578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBiJW33AeAsAlZPbrMTUzn1AuAXKKWTgjIwuKWoSSDRpgNb_iaawP7raGDtu9VV0ViterGaCVesrbTecRKnsEhk8ZFsuyVdT-6mPXYPb-4S2ieMQ8VbGxQMT7CqNsjSmqeyK1bxW84Jm0/s400/baconcollage.jpg" border="0" /></a>Just a few more days until Christmas... click <a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=35976143">HERE</a> for some last minute shopping!<br /></div><br />I debated whether or not this post should be devoted solely to bacon, or to pork in general. My enthusiasm for pork could move mountains. I love everything about it. Such enthusiasm merits a post of its own... but until then, I'll leave you with this...<br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BBoLA_BQ4tU&hl=" fs="1&" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"></embed>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-65670403576696152342009-12-17T21:02:00.001-05:002009-12-17T21:08:18.165-05:00I am Lauren, child blogger enthusiastIt all started with Jane. Her blog, <a href="http://www.seaofshoes.typepad.com/">Sea of Shoes</a>, has received lots of attention these past few months, landing the 17 year old features in various top editorials, including but not limited to both Vogue and Elle. Upon visiting her blog for the first time, I was promptly seduced by her ever-increasing collection of breath-taking (designer) footwear and awed by her kooky sophistication in styling. Her blog, for the most part, is composed of photos.... of her.... in her clothes.... looking cool.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0e-aHoyC2HT8zzF9ubdnr62xsPXd62Fxvjr6Zu9NE2kWIMxuKcR6Nd1K-bflA20lreeKOcoDYyT5LvvU4qAG0SkZhY4YxGaIo2Kvv1XbekvGJXs8_xB4m_7uIG1-K8oL4vmkBMstEvX0/s1600-h/janecollage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0e-aHoyC2HT8zzF9ubdnr62xsPXd62Fxvjr6Zu9NE2kWIMxuKcR6Nd1K-bflA20lreeKOcoDYyT5LvvU4qAG0SkZhY4YxGaIo2Kvv1XbekvGJXs8_xB4m_7uIG1-K8oL4vmkBMstEvX0/s400/janecollage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416390642693611314" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcmMMv_MJh2KphjToyd8HRSgZknpqAhur-SnXwaZYoSoatfXQErg9v2HH-LFPhZMn3vhSL9-m0vNvnl8QNA77zyOvA9_gVXJObdk1ZJr9aIfTJJaVFvYKkFYcGGL7TVf3owWwSaya2TTs/s1600-h/janeshooooooes"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcmMMv_MJh2KphjToyd8HRSgZknpqAhur-SnXwaZYoSoatfXQErg9v2HH-LFPhZMn3vhSL9-m0vNvnl8QNA77zyOvA9_gVXJObdk1ZJr9aIfTJJaVFvYKkFYcGGL7TVf3owWwSaya2TTs/s400/janeshooooooes" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416236706849560370" border="0" /></a>These ALL belong to her!!!!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I have to admit... I kind of freaked out the other day when I saw these shoes at Neiman's Last Call. I was like, "AH! Jane has these!!!" Too bad they were still $700...<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTtadxyN4b-B0LZMLMWPDFvD4cFQKyP0uy8YNHHxVq-RpTR8QeZ_GpEIzUGuXPfFcrL1dsxORcuDa2ywj9J7czgx9CxC16rFMl56Gp24R1Cd6BOLLJ48juUph83LqNlyMaDmGs2N9j0g/s1600-h/alaia"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTtadxyN4b-B0LZMLMWPDFvD4cFQKyP0uy8YNHHxVq-RpTR8QeZ_GpEIzUGuXPfFcrL1dsxORcuDa2ywj9J7czgx9CxC16rFMl56Gp24R1Cd6BOLLJ48juUph83LqNlyMaDmGs2N9j0g/s400/alaia" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416234109374389314" border="0" /></a><br />Not long after thoroughly stalking Jane, I stumbled upon her wanna-be's blog, <a href="http://stylebirdd.blogspot.com/">Style Bird</a>. I must confess, I find this girl to be way cooler... she not only has great style (especially for a middle-schooler!!) but she's incredibly innovative and resourceful. She's always mimicking looks seen on Sea of Shoes, other blogs, and on the runway.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbh1jvk7sWpdtxaHG1lqTHPqg5-EBf0xLQPPm0KNF2XBtLN6yvDrbyia-QkdwfwGE9CTeDxWLRdOQUDGd0GX31DzuFdXWJInpYstK6C7tTECPLXS1-w9e8Sf7yqgYgClPVOmcYjArsGpc/s1600-h/wannabe+collage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 351px; height: 323px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbh1jvk7sWpdtxaHG1lqTHPqg5-EBf0xLQPPm0KNF2XBtLN6yvDrbyia-QkdwfwGE9CTeDxWLRdOQUDGd0GX31DzuFdXWJInpYstK6C7tTECPLXS1-w9e8Sf7yqgYgClPVOmcYjArsGpc/s400/wannabe+collage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416245449500629042" border="0" /></a><br />Her thrifty finds and DIY designer items are simply the coolest. Pairings that have me, along with her other 332 followers, I'm sure, asking "why in the world was I not this cool when I was in 6th grade?" This girl is proof that you don't have to have the chaching to have to the goods... and don't we all need to hear THAT every now and then? Again, however, a blog primarily made up of photos... of her... in her clothes... looking cool.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho-zI1mMNwVD4hfsXVRdh3g0cl80ZNB5rKMaTU7vzOQvFXYYu-o3IXmPVecRU9nyYsqBZFyixIjdBcm1nAyQXXrsfTF20IPw1OvhBzeiERnX3HLcZqHOXpQksnIN2SKug0Xo8hkTxLjUA/s1600-h/stylebirddcollage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho-zI1mMNwVD4hfsXVRdh3g0cl80ZNB5rKMaTU7vzOQvFXYYu-o3IXmPVecRU9nyYsqBZFyixIjdBcm1nAyQXXrsfTF20IPw1OvhBzeiERnX3HLcZqHOXpQksnIN2SKug0Xo8hkTxLjUA/s400/stylebirddcollage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416227228633124178" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZcO15PHc2DRhfrOiOaMHaTsBL0-3cnu17CXd0QOfbznVCmMXLsnKdrbwF4k7fXTxyqgqr1FBRxSSWOLeTzw4tKeDAOopjoW-IZtd3NVsKqPmzONxYduuMus0K78QHK3usyTAhoLxNIxc/s1600-h/stylebird.."><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 90px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZcO15PHc2DRhfrOiOaMHaTsBL0-3cnu17CXd0QOfbznVCmMXLsnKdrbwF4k7fXTxyqgqr1FBRxSSWOLeTzw4tKeDAOopjoW-IZtd3NVsKqPmzONxYduuMus0K78QHK3usyTAhoLxNIxc/s400/stylebird.." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416227801924003522" border="0" /></a><br />Now... the most stylish, most witty, most adorably irresistible child blogger in cyber space these days is, without a doubt, Tavi of <a href="http://www.tavi-thenewgirlintown.blogspot.com/">Style Rookie</a>. I absolutely cannot get enough of this cutie. She's so effortlessly cool.... so... fresh. Her styling is fresh. Her comments are fresh. Her face is fresh. Tavi, will you be my best friend, pleeeeeeaaaaase?! Her blog, filled with hilarious ramblings on daily life, insightful fashion analysis, kooky videos, runway photos, and the occasional (and wildly anticipated) photo of herself, is cooler than cool. According to her "About Me" section, this "tiny 13 year old dork that sits inside all day wearing awkward jackets and pretty hats" is "rather cynical and cute as a drained rat. In a sewer. Farting. And spitting out guts." Haha, whaaaat? Sounds like my kind of girl!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihXUNKkcIbkUWjCil2KnhTlDDqZkZtYCc4tnj0h65_LCPR8z3DXiICrTnTMDS1nWY-j8qHmCN-CyPIZo4eJVApUAb9UFNYv3AcB2fDZGMGT9cfGHiJTVnJ9-11t29MeIwyNPxVbNw4jEA/s1600-h/tavicomme"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihXUNKkcIbkUWjCil2KnhTlDDqZkZtYCc4tnj0h65_LCPR8z3DXiICrTnTMDS1nWY-j8qHmCN-CyPIZo4eJVApUAb9UFNYv3AcB2fDZGMGT9cfGHiJTVnJ9-11t29MeIwyNPxVbNw4jEA/s400/tavicomme" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416250431834647826" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObnG5CecPdGtqMYrqoZOLbzJQzgR4MldscNrSUCHcKA3c0oj2xrKdd4WVd4_yDFHXORbtj7yX-kuES5XICpZNYcttd2BOAaWeZoOG9YYnYHe_oJKl924KQbUIs3NFFXB64ctwFqL2rmY/s1600-h/tavi+collage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 245px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObnG5CecPdGtqMYrqoZOLbzJQzgR4MldscNrSUCHcKA3c0oj2xrKdd4WVd4_yDFHXORbtj7yX-kuES5XICpZNYcttd2BOAaWeZoOG9YYnYHe_oJKl924KQbUIs3NFFXB64ctwFqL2rmY/s400/tavi+collage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416376136133039154" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And as if I wasn't insanely jealous enough already........<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl1QisJPLBLrmpyEq-2Dkk-32SDLQt4oqViVZvVDAhvl-ZHWqlAJ4RAUpqTUiGaoDvr62hLHXxrbKr3Nj3NWDGq89_npHZSmoBR8CsyBNq6_ZUddOuvBpX9P5k2rJulOlEHIcf6XiI7NY/s1600-h/tavimarc-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl1QisJPLBLrmpyEq-2Dkk-32SDLQt4oqViVZvVDAhvl-ZHWqlAJ4RAUpqTUiGaoDvr62hLHXxrbKr3Nj3NWDGq89_npHZSmoBR8CsyBNq6_ZUddOuvBpX9P5k2rJulOlEHIcf6XiI7NY/s400/tavimarc-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416377744752366706" border="0" /></a>MARC JACOBS?!?! This girl has got it going on! Apparently I'm not the only one who thinks she's hot stuff... ever since starting her blog, Tavi has been making the rounds. She was an honored guest at several shows this year at NY Fashion Week and has been showered with fabulous designer garb among the likes of Comme des Garcons and Proenza Schouler.<br /><br /><a href="http://vimeo.com/6526255">CLICK HERE</a> to see a video that, according to Tavi, makes her look "um, really smart... and sophisticated"<br /><br />It's so neat... the fashion blog phenomenon. Only a few years ago, before the blog boom, these girls would've been considered wacky weirdos for the bizarre things they don. Real life isn't always the most understanding of such flaunting fashionistas. In most cases, people just don't get it... but the internet gives these girls an outlet... a way to be noticed... by people who care... people who matter.Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-33160733016581873432009-11-12T14:12:00.009-05:002009-12-02T07:46:24.499-05:00I am Lauren, schadenfreude enthusiast<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgquoc3uLmHrqh6mjFvKhxwVJDGnquKNUksDEc9WNsLtgHjF9u0oMAKlp89cJ-Nh66cOocNOQig5AbpFH-xe-mT82NuyxzlJPVtGEHUjAFb2otanSAUtKA7R2Uk-dzXNUy1lCsmNrQ0DOE/s1600-h/mr-schadenfreude.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px; display: block; height: 269px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403304286645682210" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgquoc3uLmHrqh6mjFvKhxwVJDGnquKNUksDEc9WNsLtgHjF9u0oMAKlp89cJ-Nh66cOocNOQig5AbpFH-xe-mT82NuyxzlJPVtGEHUjAFb2otanSAUtKA7R2Uk-dzXNUy1lCsmNrQ0DOE/s320/mr-schadenfreude.gif" border="0" /></a> Uncontrollable laughter is something I have always struggled with. I often find myself unsuccessfully concealing my giggles and trying to excuse and explain myself for laughing at the most inappropriate of times. Hold my breath, close my eyes, count to ten, whatever... a good giggle is one of the hardest things to shake.<br /><br />So what gets me so tickled, you ask? A good fall, an awkward fart... Oh, an abundance of specific examples come to my mind. I remember so many of them so, so vividly, as though they have been defining moments in my life. But I'll spare you all the details, for they all boil down to one common theme... me impulsively and uncontrollably laughing at somebody's misfortune (my own included).<br /><br />As you must imagine, America's Funniest Home Videos is a favorite of mine. I've been caught countless times alone, on the couch, in tears, because this show has gotten me so cracked up.<br />Watching people fall never, ever gets old...<br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dt68oeu65TU&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dt68oeu65TU&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object></div><br /><div>Not until last year in my Honors Western Civilization discussion class did I learn that there is actually a name for this... schadenfreude. I don't even remember what text we were studying, but I was thrilled to learn that, apparently, I am not alone in my twisted sense of humor... the bulk of the sterotypical German population shares in this enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others. That's it, I must be German. I've always had a thing for leiderhosen.<br /><br />Yesterday evening, I had the pleasure of attending a performance of the Tony Award-winning musical, Avenue Q. Among the many hilariously candid numbers, each performed predominently by puppets and referencing varoius cultural taboos (racism, homosexuality, just to name a few), I found the song, Schadenfreude, to be particularly pertinent...<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;" align="center">*please excuse some of the <em>vocabulary*</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nCQGQ5qBQTA&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nCQGQ5qBQTA&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />NICKY:<br />Oh, Schadenfreude, huh?<br />What's that, some kinda Nazi word?<br /><br />GARY COLEMAN:<br />Yup! It's German for "happiness at the misfortune of others!"<br /><br />NICKY:<br />"Happiness at the misfortune of others." That is German!</div>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-16909726265009653032009-10-19T12:36:00.000-04:002009-10-19T12:37:43.138-04:00I am Lauren, honky tonk enthusiastI've always had a thing for country music. My early childhood years were spent rocking out to Kicks 101.5, the local country radio. At just 3 years old, I was known for my mean renderings of Alan Jackson's "Chattahoochee" and, of course, Billy Ray Cyrus' "Achy Breaky Heart." I mean really, who doesn't love those songs? One day in Sunday School we were asked what we wanted our teacher (because we didn't know how to write yet, duh) to write on these big button pins that we had decorated. I think they were expecting to write nice things like "Jesus Loves Me" or "God is Great," but I wasn't going to sport a big button like that without advertising <span style="font-style: italic;">my</span> very favorite song. So of course mine read "Way down yonder on the Chattahoochee" Unfortunately, "it gets hotter than the hoochie koochie" didn't fit... or at least that's what my sunday school teacher said.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Boy did I have a crush on Alan Jackson and that yummy blond mustache.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYrqcHNMryHSaaz5fPHnRzlsqb5Gxb21vY7obBUnUvOcOI4MyclP1860x_RDUsiOVFmUQnHu5SZWpUl_Be2aaKkxCr2BLYBdbHlYDgzpNEEt0WGWYPnWVg6SpKFBWm5bzWdYUES5jGc4/s1600-h/alanjackson.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 295px; height: 295px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYrqcHNMryHSaaz5fPHnRzlsqb5Gxb21vY7obBUnUvOcOI4MyclP1860x_RDUsiOVFmUQnHu5SZWpUl_Be2aaKkxCr2BLYBdbHlYDgzpNEEt0WGWYPnWVg6SpKFBWm5bzWdYUES5jGc4/s400/alanjackson.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394110872308578258" border="0" /></a>Country music is something I always seem to come back to. Once every couple of years I'll switch my car radio from NPR to the country station, just to get my fix. It's almost like in the interim I forget how much I love it, how good it makes me feel. It something about that twang... the twang of the "geetar," the twang in the voice. It just really gets me. You know, this just occurred to me, but it probably doesn't hurt that I can actually understand what they're saying. In so many other songs, mainstream or what have you, I have the hardest time making out the words. Country music, I can follow. Its the music of the people. (wait... of what people? my people? I don't even know... lets not go there)<br /><br />Hm. Now I'm afraid I must go there... particularly since I'm not just any country music enthusiast, but a honky tonk enthusiast, to be precise. Honky tonk. I like the sound of that. Kind of reminds me of hoochie koochie. Nevermind. The word tonk comes from an old brand of piano. And the word honky, if you didn't already know, is just a cool name for us white folk. The term honky tonk was originally used to describe a type of bar in which music was/is played. Now it also refers to the subgenre of country music known for its upbeat tempo and lyrics that focus on working-class life, with frequently tragic themes of lost love, adultery, loneliness, alcoholism, and self-pity.<br /><br />I can't talk about country music and not mention another all-time favorite... David Ball. Slightly lesser-known than Mr. Jackson, David Ball has got honky tonk down, no doubt. His 1994 album, "Thinkin' Problem" is contagious, each song catchier than the last. I sang his tunes ALL the way to school today. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_NHbp4apXQhLXSbIJs4-o_ElMiQOjceoooQpJUaSMcd7aS1JOYWKNnKbR1ZfxddopaEEo5PLeXxkQ6mNHAGfTHEO_kKdp2Qwd3H5Ttc9gXwjOud-b_C-MQOAof8gA_kovBhlkCgPkjM/s1600-h/davidball"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_NHbp4apXQhLXSbIJs4-o_ElMiQOjceoooQpJUaSMcd7aS1JOYWKNnKbR1ZfxddopaEEo5PLeXxkQ6mNHAGfTHEO_kKdp2Qwd3H5Ttc9gXwjOud-b_C-MQOAof8gA_kovBhlkCgPkjM/s400/davidball" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394346269705089058" border="0" /></a>Unfortunately, YouTube has a severe shortage of David Ball videos, so I'll leave you with this all too familiar tune... where the enthusiasm was born...<br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9ERg-Yg0mr4&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9ERg-Yg0mr4&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed><br /></object><br /><div style="text-align: center;">honky tonk badonkadonk, honky tonk badonkadonk, honky tonk badonkadonk...<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="344" width="425">try saying that 10 times fast! great phrase... terrible terrible song</object><br /><object height="344" width="425"></object></div><object height="344" width="425"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEPWIhiyc3iNY8aRLe9jZt0bXKavTgLZF9S2eR3QI2j1xOh7l5Z8ObIMQVHOeNnnuOfd0ZdIfWbbWobGNN8gW3oQbKhzf1c1hdNLmLlCzKo6Vl27wIiOs9v5HEM4qHsSCrMn4vs21j4GE/s1600-h/honkytonkbadonkadonk"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 159px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEPWIhiyc3iNY8aRLe9jZt0bXKavTgLZF9S2eR3QI2j1xOh7l5Z8ObIMQVHOeNnnuOfd0ZdIfWbbWobGNN8gW3oQbKhzf1c1hdNLmLlCzKo6Vl27wIiOs9v5HEM4qHsSCrMn4vs21j4GE/s320/honkytonkbadonkadonk" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394349843992781394" border="0" /></a></object>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-1769746511735538122009-09-22T14:52:00.000-04:002009-09-23T07:49:05.812-04:00I am Lauren, Bob Fosse enthusiast<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gowKwx74RDncDApK8E35eOloZW8WijAFAxnboVp0dHKoMN7j6LD-pqo6B4OugiBhq9l6CjxbGf_zDYUsINHbghVDy0XX0VInr_paGyrxIE-RrlkEKJp8TiALTyas8PYH2TUr_Wlv4XE/s1600-h/fosse."><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 94px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gowKwx74RDncDApK8E35eOloZW8WijAFAxnboVp0dHKoMN7j6LD-pqo6B4OugiBhq9l6CjxbGf_zDYUsINHbghVDy0XX0VInr_paGyrxIE-RrlkEKJp8TiALTyas8PYH2TUr_Wlv4XE/s200/fosse." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384367943273893954" border="0" /></a>My first encounter with Fosse's choreography was one of utter excitement and awe. Mesmerized, I recall watching Miss Kathy's massive fake ponytail, whipping around and around and around like a sideways ceiling fan. At just 9 years old I knew I was a Fosse fan.The quirky moves were like nothing I had ever seen before. I'd practice what I had seen at rehearsals in my mirror at home. I wanted to move like that. I needed to move like that. Here's a clip of the dance they did, from the 1969 film, Sweet Charity.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/llNcOIZ5PQQ&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/llNcOIZ5PQQ&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Luckily, just 2 years later, my dear friend Sarah and I enrolled in the Atlanta Workshop Players summer camp, and though, at 11, we were technically too young for the dance division, we made it through auditions and into rehearsals for the Fosse themed performance that was to take place at the end of the 2 weeks. We were thrilled! I was finally going to legitimately get to show off my Fosse moves!<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So who is this Fosse guy anyway? I didn't realize what a big deal he was until just recently. He's won countless awards for his choreography and direction... Academy Awards, Tony Awards, Emmy Awards... in fact, in 1973, he won all three! He once said of musical thatre...<br /></div><blockquote><blockquote><div style="text-align: center;">“The time to sing is when your emotional level is too high to just speak anymore, and the time to dance is when your emotions are just too strong to only sing about how you feel."<br /></div></blockquote></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXGcR-YsTjDyIWITtdaF_B6hIYDYkIf8ctchxOAxpbvQcMawYZkigX-w4abxR1ZH9m5UiZmmE1i7gGQ1JlH08TzNJwBwB___qHyjUwCj36n0nF4T2nwMtt1qXn8HOgTaqr3K3Pyi3ol8c/s1600-h/fosse" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXGcR-YsTjDyIWITtdaF_B6hIYDYkIf8ctchxOAxpbvQcMawYZkigX-w4abxR1ZH9m5UiZmmE1i7gGQ1JlH08TzNJwBwB___qHyjUwCj36n0nF4T2nwMtt1qXn8HOgTaqr3K3Pyi3ol8c/s320/fosse" border="0" /></a><br /></div>His moves have been mimicked by many and admired by all. In fact, it's been alleged that the legendary MJ himself stole from Fosse, which may be evident after watching the below video from the fabulous film, "The Little Prince," starring Bob Fosse as the ssssssnake! Too, too cool.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eUTEhEPONgc&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eUTEhEPONgc&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />I hate to overload this post with videos, but I think this, too, is worth your time. Versions of this have been floating around the internet... I'm sure you've seen at least one of them. This Fosse clip has been put to Beyonce's "Single Ladies," which was admittedly highly influenced by Fosse's work, but I prefer this one, in which these ladies from the 60's "walk it out" to Unk's hit tune.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KU3N5c2Kxnw&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KU3N5c2Kxnw&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Can't wait to bust some Fosse in the club!<br /></div>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-82031707304544892972009-09-06T09:46:00.004-04:002009-09-06T09:49:37.783-04:00I am Lauren, Henrique Oliveira enthusiastDespite how much I love to make art, I rarely spend much time looking up and reading about those who like to do the same. I'm much more likely to stalk home design blogs than those pertaining to contemporary art. Why is this? I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps I'm not easily impressed. Or sometimes I think it might have something to do with a fear of the discovery that no idea or thought is truly original. For example, months after completing my first large concrete "thumbkin", I found images of Cesar Baldaccini's enormous "pouce" that was erected over 50 years ago in Paris...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitcNf1oxJk2I-wZjzds-zmWw7-A_mCQ2dQ7X2BCJLyN6rkLczDdCq7GBzvDukYrw-2o326K6RUufYYfovwVKYEd9mvaAfkPmMtkoh7qn-yScD7BdEBN3HrncWSJEOjORIAwe0iYvbOf_U/s1600/sculpture...+thumbkin" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitcNf1oxJk2I-wZjzds-zmWw7-A_mCQ2dQ7X2BCJLyN6rkLczDdCq7GBzvDukYrw-2o326K6RUufYYfovwVKYEd9mvaAfkPmMtkoh7qn-yScD7BdEBN3HrncWSJEOjORIAwe0iYvbOf_U/s320/sculpture...+thumbkin" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitcNf1oxJk2I-wZjzds-zmWw7-A_mCQ2dQ7X2BCJLyN6rkLczDdCq7GBzvDukYrw-2o326K6RUufYYfovwVKYEd9mvaAfkPmMtkoh7qn-yScD7BdEBN3HrncWSJEOjORIAwe0iYvbOf_U/s1600-h/sculpture...+thumbkin" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiyW-x5sLqI8LX0CKk0OdDrp7CBhT5ZfLKwIdAXFIY7lUZELVu7e7drJ-UxI9lp80PyogFN6TgGfmPoAghpwRT7pILN2WRi4KSrR7feX02Y_baTjOVdQRLQcrjbqCxEhYB1hMGn27t4hk/s1600-h/baldaccini-pouce" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiyW-x5sLqI8LX0CKk0OdDrp7CBhT5ZfLKwIdAXFIY7lUZELVu7e7drJ-UxI9lp80PyogFN6TgGfmPoAghpwRT7pILN2WRi4KSrR7feX02Y_baTjOVdQRLQcrjbqCxEhYB1hMGn27t4hk/s320/baldaccini-pouce" /></a></div>As you can imagine... I was a little wigged out, slightly discouraged, kind of excited, and somewhat inspired all at once.<br />
<br />
I'm finding, the best way to learn of artists is through word of mouth. My friend <a href="http://inloveofwe.blogspot.com/">Michelle</a> has a brain full of artists. She's the best for references and recommendations. When she sent me the link to <a href="http://www.henriqueoliveira.com/tridimensionais-e.html">Henrique Oliveira's website</a> I just about had a heart attack. Not only was I so incredibly stimulated visually, I was overwhelmed with inspiration.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_EhSIH94vybRKq5mxDP0jelqPIOaXLzCIlXdayCYongNIhcawaE1YFsZkLUZCvWtZ29ZAmbuKvmODV5OYVfxw0ZYeyetbEBeIz5t30Hb_nGPJCiLpckF6ObfUeKK6lAmFzUGkd3frBk/s1600-h/henriqueoliveira" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_EhSIH94vybRKq5mxDP0jelqPIOaXLzCIlXdayCYongNIhcawaE1YFsZkLUZCvWtZ29ZAmbuKvmODV5OYVfxw0ZYeyetbEBeIz5t30Hb_nGPJCiLpckF6ObfUeKK6lAmFzUGkd3frBk/s320/henriqueoliveira" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9TWIuKFKCiq3HEC-zWyM8eiQN-UINnW8YA5YYKaTkVAYLr7Uysu_RmIByMNStSBv72teVerzSWwlunNEQ-wKRwkvUE3hFz-zEWZGijqhQxxXZY6XR2MNLFkO5j3UTkvmPlY_AUjiUEw/s1600-h/henriqueoliveira.." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9TWIuKFKCiq3HEC-zWyM8eiQN-UINnW8YA5YYKaTkVAYLr7Uysu_RmIByMNStSBv72teVerzSWwlunNEQ-wKRwkvUE3hFz-zEWZGijqhQxxXZY6XR2MNLFkO5j3UTkvmPlY_AUjiUEw/s320/henriqueoliveira.." /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbjdSfKa2PoTLgucYxkj2bRfJIo4EsiRU_9_-w12paRAVJwxNCixIz2d970QROrcdP280em-SJFt6GdV3p9SrXqZ_jOPMezFGzrp01MxPh7W3pp76z0womBJkjxP_e7dXK5w4np3lU2JE/s1600-h/henriqueoliveira..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbjdSfKa2PoTLgucYxkj2bRfJIo4EsiRU_9_-w12paRAVJwxNCixIz2d970QROrcdP280em-SJFt6GdV3p9SrXqZ_jOPMezFGzrp01MxPh7W3pp76z0womBJkjxP_e7dXK5w4np3lU2JE/s320/henriqueoliveira..." /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSFL7pn6hPh58WVmEiCtbtRPOiFZGymF5oi4D-AUcj41F74yRetneoOROv9wWO1vD38OXEVtcRJIrncJxPrUr6Ox7PWXzaEY-lp3iNURgKaai5gMTHAzowQ2P9ddK5CywWYo-xGOLYVQ/s1600-h/henriqueoliveira......." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSFL7pn6hPh58WVmEiCtbtRPOiFZGymF5oi4D-AUcj41F74yRetneoOROv9wWO1vD38OXEVtcRJIrncJxPrUr6Ox7PWXzaEY-lp3iNURgKaai5gMTHAzowQ2P9ddK5CywWYo-xGOLYVQ/s320/henriqueoliveira......." /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uCWlYr32KUkeIRpeCiaV1JG5M4YaRlgXettUR0soDTDYjD2zCVZe5_i7hjUura4Xx3wOOuWsUHExXcPyxE3B0dtcCOV2ZqsMXSHg_pjvrgs-WbyLO3TVOOsIKdp64eLGCu_U7xWq7bA/s1600-h/henriqueoliveira....." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uCWlYr32KUkeIRpeCiaV1JG5M4YaRlgXettUR0soDTDYjD2zCVZe5_i7hjUura4Xx3wOOuWsUHExXcPyxE3B0dtcCOV2ZqsMXSHg_pjvrgs-WbyLO3TVOOsIKdp64eLGCu_U7xWq7bA/s320/henriqueoliveira....." /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidUFbsy9cQlrTVZpcDPV4EsMcGl_DGzfk0cDurxJqYMcevoEJ0hb-_6B08M013Q8CGVr9YlTT5-4ErZRkgvwCq9hopxoDZw2_2QyeTPUFxo0LFhD2zzP2jvI2fJkrAnaMt8WmacsSpI0Y/s1600-h/henriqueoliveira......" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidUFbsy9cQlrTVZpcDPV4EsMcGl_DGzfk0cDurxJqYMcevoEJ0hb-_6B08M013Q8CGVr9YlTT5-4ErZRkgvwCq9hopxoDZw2_2QyeTPUFxo0LFhD2zzP2jvI2fJkrAnaMt8WmacsSpI0Y/s320/henriqueoliveira......" /></a></div><br />
This guy is doing things that excite me to no end. His technique is one that I can only hope to mimic... I've been dying to create these types of planes, built away from the walls, but haven't had the skills or the know-how to actually make it happen. If only I could go to Brazil and study with Henrique!!<br />
<object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/K-lPke6YxLs&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/K-lPke6YxLs&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-24637275821764143662009-08-30T16:59:00.005-04:002009-11-19T08:32:10.818-05:00I am Lauren, bare butt enthusiast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Fuy7bRv4LdAdBJ9ohrNbZtp6HHA08i-GponOBpD1Zv1yq1i1qvGG5pavPZKZZ9SwyUdlI93EfYk2zXakIgED7D1-aqSsyF7VTK2fD4HUKZcQ83VxMoTGC_H0mO162uXjgHe84JsmJ3Y/s1600-h/sc023083f3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Fuy7bRv4LdAdBJ9ohrNbZtp6HHA08i-GponOBpD1Zv1yq1i1qvGG5pavPZKZZ9SwyUdlI93EfYk2zXakIgED7D1-aqSsyF7VTK2fD4HUKZcQ83VxMoTGC_H0mO162uXjgHe84JsmJ3Y/s320/sc023083f3.jpg" border="0" /></a></div> I'm not sure exactly when my enthusiasm for butts began, but it goes back as far as I can remember. As a young dancer, I was often referred to as "duck-butt" and "shelf-butt" by our resident costume lady/annoying stage mom. I think she was just jealous because her daughter didn't have one. Rather than be embarrassed, I chose to embrace my bum, and in doing so I developed a habit of embracing the bums of others as well. My elementary school years were spent butt-bumping, butt-smacking and even at times butt-squeezing. Why, you ask? Shock value... humor... it's funny, no? Well, funny it may be, but I've learned it's not always the most appropriate behavior. I've since taught myself to control the impulse to smack, and now choose to channel my posterior enthusiasm in a much less tangible... much more visual way.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2GGdc0iHhL8YjIFJ8hhZEujBrZ-Co5PEoVYXPcO7HH6VPCIGxYHPqzoKQqHH-9Nxm583uznhuTvBWjhUaSquOfBhTvOttwbR1mapKoaUba4S2MmW6hrgAANjhRRJcUhKBaBQTqLxAbHE/s1600-h/boucher_odalisque.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 361px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2GGdc0iHhL8YjIFJ8hhZEujBrZ-Co5PEoVYXPcO7HH6VPCIGxYHPqzoKQqHH-9Nxm583uznhuTvBWjhUaSquOfBhTvOttwbR1mapKoaUba4S2MmW6hrgAANjhRRJcUhKBaBQTqLxAbHE/s400/boucher_odalisque.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389709982784861106" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp5PXf8hqsPgKrp4LD4v57RabISL3RO5tBxRe0oaIdTaRjiSLeKuT474EJ00Jj-MFPyQFTqHPCe330t7_ihT-RY8wDgRH2P3j2LJFCHPcy_NU_-FZUFFZ2nHnGtCuAIw3BGeeb1DepUhc/s1600-h/boucher_odalisque.jpg"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4NYDnZiMt1ameNc21f3N5seF8tg8vz8sB5MPvwKmZDC79ezJdv93HdhQ6a039r76RhLpIUDWwUFlnRztpJOWac-x-XgG7nkms6WCOAzsHtX4E_3e0NVpUS3WgLDPBqPMdC2WKzL3Eb0/s1600-h/sc023209ae.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4NYDnZiMt1ameNc21f3N5seF8tg8vz8sB5MPvwKmZDC79ezJdv93HdhQ6a039r76RhLpIUDWwUFlnRztpJOWac-x-XgG7nkms6WCOAzsHtX4E_3e0NVpUS3WgLDPBqPMdC2WKzL3Eb0/s320/sc023209ae.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJuo_83-Kj-IxSS1nQNs1Eljk2KnJ_j9QtWOWf0YbTzGAuRyb_15tiWr1Ah5arTbnGsUYgcxn_Kzy3yjV0nRcrmQd6uAApgQOSpz4Ug-82rkfPe4QCLnn5TWkzsSxOhbx_9QNNoLjXz0/s1600/buttsalt&pepper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJuo_83-Kj-IxSS1nQNs1Eljk2KnJ_j9QtWOWf0YbTzGAuRyb_15tiWr1Ah5arTbnGsUYgcxn_Kzy3yjV0nRcrmQd6uAApgQOSpz4Ug-82rkfPe4QCLnn5TWkzsSxOhbx_9QNNoLjXz0/s320/buttsalt&pepper.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJuo_83-Kj-IxSS1nQNs1Eljk2KnJ_j9QtWOWf0YbTzGAuRyb_15tiWr1Ah5arTbnGsUYgcxn_Kzy3yjV0nRcrmQd6uAApgQOSpz4Ug-82rkfPe4QCLnn5TWkzsSxOhbx_9QNNoLjXz0/s1600-h/buttsalt&pepper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>I don't know what it is. There's just something about a bare behind that really gives me the giggles. After all, every rear end does have a wise crack! (sorry, sometimes I can't help myself) No, but really... butts are truly amusing, don't you think? Everything about them... the smooth and squishy "cheeks," the strategically placed "crack." This must say a lot about my sense of humor... is there a name for this?<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2j4iXiPMw-1rtkSDhyphenhyphensxfe34kgM79OK5Zm6pFO9_SzRv-uGAXYEhhCv_iwpFRUkQAbFABGrjapzkNavmVHXPoiIvP1nhTUWqv9mLrDny2st7N0sBdJ-KcGiz9hHAmmzZldooNykEZx0/s1600-h/buttbaby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2j4iXiPMw-1rtkSDhyphenhyphensxfe34kgM79OK5Zm6pFO9_SzRv-uGAXYEhhCv_iwpFRUkQAbFABGrjapzkNavmVHXPoiIvP1nhTUWqv9mLrDny2st7N0sBdJ-KcGiz9hHAmmzZldooNykEZx0/s320/buttbaby.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjM8Cs8AaLuRxjOgXep4bxjLGV5m41WCaO-cLfUVGFrGhhekurXT-BE5p4kHaqF6K72bvDvx-0NJwLWkYbbYbGIL7kXRLLF_Nn1Q1riy0FwX8f0Z5dB9HCcrZPPo6ApAtH578lldUqNc/s1600-h/buttbaby..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjM8Cs8AaLuRxjOgXep4bxjLGV5m41WCaO-cLfUVGFrGhhekurXT-BE5p4kHaqF6K72bvDvx-0NJwLWkYbbYbGIL7kXRLLF_Nn1Q1riy0FwX8f0Z5dB9HCcrZPPo6ApAtH578lldUqNc/s320/buttbaby..jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">This little boy is simply too cool for words...</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">You must imagine my absolute excitement when I found, in the children's isle at Barnes & Nobles, a book entitled <i>The Day My Butt Went Psycho!</i>. Like any 8 year old boy, I (not quite 20 at the time) nearly wet my pants with excitement. The title alone had me drooling with anticipation. How brilliant! After flipping through and reading several passages aloud to my mother, I skipped to the check-out counter to buy the coolest book of all time. </div><blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MtMr95jFpQQs_JepLMXVjKvaKvlu2VIxAYXXMSNYyfkvWHYbREIcSr1eHHJRbSo-fx-DkuTlVPOaNUIlLm1KPS_QoQccKHQKxHjBRXTWo7HoEcGUb1bd1K0-4IOJoZy5jKYj4ENQXwU/s1600-h/the+day+my+butt+went+psycho" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375798390747273186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MtMr95jFpQQs_JepLMXVjKvaKvlu2VIxAYXXMSNYyfkvWHYbREIcSr1eHHJRbSo-fx-DkuTlVPOaNUIlLm1KPS_QoQccKHQKxHjBRXTWo7HoEcGUb1bd1K0-4IOJoZy5jKYj4ENQXwU/s400/the+day+my+butt+went+psycho" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; height: 400px; text-align: center; width: 275px;" border="0" /></a>"An epic tale of one brave boy and his crazy, runaway butt. Can Zack save the earth from butts gone berserk? Can he defeat the biggest, ugliest, meanest butt the world has ever seen? More important- will Zack and his butt ever find true happiness?" </div></blockquote>It's really so entertaining. The first page warns, "If you are a parent or a teacher or even if you're just over 18, put this book down now! You won't like it. You won't understand it. You will be totally grossed out by it." Hmmm... I wonder what this says about me? I encourage you to and go and play the "Move Your Butt" game on the <a href="http://www.scholastic.ca/titles/butt/flashgame.htm">publisher's website</a>!<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br />Did I mention I've been thinking about getting a tattoo?!?!</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDFNhgJ3PVipHB8YKxYHnO1rbjtHq5N_kUZ5c-GDxiQKye03iQpkaaDIWrI1VrW4VG6dySJMEaRMvrvQUHyOQwCZs6_i3UlNxjPYjXcTrYZSQGUwvCh2P8pL_30jUMUEYCGNk0nWCbgf4/s1600-h/butholemonkeytattoo" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375798808494618594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDFNhgJ3PVipHB8YKxYHnO1rbjtHq5N_kUZ5c-GDxiQKye03iQpkaaDIWrI1VrW4VG6dySJMEaRMvrvQUHyOQwCZs6_i3UlNxjPYjXcTrYZSQGUwvCh2P8pL_30jUMUEYCGNk0nWCbgf4/s400/butholemonkeytattoo" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; text-align: center; width: 286px;" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And a photo from one of my favorite artists... Spencer Tunick... famous for gathering thousands upon thousands of bare butts in one place at one time and capturing it all on film!<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxEUj9GBGvGQMalumJak7P3l8Fwk5MSpqoWi-gHr5QVVwQsTY03i2-UwdMVlp89gpcs13mzFhqo_nfmuXrfVoYh7DWBvfinrlVzcmFSoExYxmsxrWjxB5tWzSQAmcoWD8V_6Tqs9S6TU/s1600/spencertunick.....jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 401px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxEUj9GBGvGQMalumJak7P3l8Fwk5MSpqoWi-gHr5QVVwQsTY03i2-UwdMVlp89gpcs13mzFhqo_nfmuXrfVoYh7DWBvfinrlVzcmFSoExYxmsxrWjxB5tWzSQAmcoWD8V_6Tqs9S6TU/s320/spencertunick.....jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405806213179955458" border="0" /></a>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-14257833926294333692009-08-20T18:32:00.004-04:002009-08-20T21:04:27.064-04:00I am Lauren, Bop It enthusiastEarlier this week, while browsing through a very mediocre wanna-be antique store, I came across one of the most entertaining (perhaps more so transfixing) toys of my childhood/adolescence, the Bop It. My mom insisted that mine was somewhere in the garage, but at $2 I couldn't bear to leave it on the shelf. I of course had to give it a practice run, just to make sure all the parts were in working order, and found myself immediately hooked. I fondly recall my Bop It days, during which "Just one more round!!!" was a phrase that frequented my vocabulary.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9m8blieLVKUbaTtzgJbIyxIO2Q65IVQJGVH3lprDgtuoYHhfMZlxHYP0yp3hfueS3ZbCFM50EXSJG0n1ALme7E9Oj3oEoXOqigqTPbCbzwy1Q3kvAxHoUmtyt8QYIBW-dW7C7KaBeVM8/s1600-h/BOPit."><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 125px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9m8blieLVKUbaTtzgJbIyxIO2Q65IVQJGVH3lprDgtuoYHhfMZlxHYP0yp3hfueS3ZbCFM50EXSJG0n1ALme7E9Oj3oEoXOqigqTPbCbzwy1Q3kvAxHoUmtyt8QYIBW-dW7C7KaBeVM8/s400/BOPit." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372212094678956210" border="0" /></a>Needless to say, I've decided to start boppin' it again. I'm a few years out of practice, but I'm confident I can train my way back to the skills I had during my Bop It glory days. The thing about this game is that it becomes terribly annoying to anyone within listening proximity, who isn't invited to play. So one either must play when he/she is entirely alone OR convince some friends to join in the fun. Luckily, it has several playing options, one of which is the group "pass it" setting. Even when I play on my own, I like to use this setting because that "pass it" beat is just so darn catchy! If you haven't already got it stuck in your head...<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pl6zC8UCgaE&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pl6zC8UCgaE&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br />You might be surprised at how many people have posted videos of themselves doing this... or not... I was...<br /><br />I've been thinking about inviting some friends over next weekend just to catch up after a long summer of jobs, vacations, adventures, etc.... and now I know I MUST. Board games are great, but I'm pretty confident my new Bop It will be a real hit! Until then, I figure I ought to practice every spare moment I get... like this girl...?<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4oHKPoQ3sos&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4oHKPoQ3sos&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-14847207132948878092009-08-14T07:46:00.008-04:002009-08-14T18:41:31.845-04:00I am Lauren, Awkward Family Photos enthusiastJust this morning I came across this magnificent blog/site, <a href="http://www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com/">Awkward Family Photos</a>. I can't get enough of these images! Professional family photos, in general, have always seemed pretty ridiculous to me, most likely because only few of my family exist. Actually, probably only one that I can think of, and it was taken nearly 20 years ago for a church directory. Perhaps this shortage of family photos in my life has something to do with the fact that my parents were/are divorced... but I prefer to think that it's more a matter of taste. They had sense enough to know that this genre of professional photography is beyond cheesy, and at times darn creepy. And here's proof... no commentary necessary...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVHmkXwKecLArNvVJsEW8lS1kjKFtij5pQbFuzVyfCFq6lRhZMEOKac0vq_t5vV6Ab7eT8Xfz8cDr1R9Oif2u9u6izBWL0ykYgNi_WpxYU_v53pEf2H1uP4vJ_TFsMqzpQCdoX4I5heCI/s1600-h/awkwardfamilyphotos....."><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVHmkXwKecLArNvVJsEW8lS1kjKFtij5pQbFuzVyfCFq6lRhZMEOKac0vq_t5vV6Ab7eT8Xfz8cDr1R9Oif2u9u6izBWL0ykYgNi_WpxYU_v53pEf2H1uP4vJ_TFsMqzpQCdoX4I5heCI/s400/awkwardfamilyphotos....." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369795266382404690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJgJstmpnczLGOBtloHqxXbNlObbZdZESmpbOPX6bDIO5Af5HoBrIKaXrQKCxSgIN8LdmVoeSluMLOp8UQl_gP2pxN2czmd_XeczVkYkRoVg0CwxepwZHissSqyhG0WEgOubYOk4jCas/s1600-h/awkwardfamilyphotos......"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJgJstmpnczLGOBtloHqxXbNlObbZdZESmpbOPX6bDIO5Af5HoBrIKaXrQKCxSgIN8LdmVoeSluMLOp8UQl_gP2pxN2czmd_XeczVkYkRoVg0CwxepwZHissSqyhG0WEgOubYOk4jCas/s400/awkwardfamilyphotos......" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369795429275489298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFgkAu7TSnyy0m4MHE-roB9I2B2sKCtc23YJgK7jW_1hU8y9m8zNnedC0puKkrvkpifI08rSVDXoaHf56esxUmB5q3HNX96AsS8jL1AVxluDdwQO03nng9c2qAHQSAmOc_NqD_cqzO3KA/s1600-h/awkwardfamilyphotos.."><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFgkAu7TSnyy0m4MHE-roB9I2B2sKCtc23YJgK7jW_1hU8y9m8zNnedC0puKkrvkpifI08rSVDXoaHf56esxUmB5q3HNX96AsS8jL1AVxluDdwQO03nng9c2qAHQSAmOc_NqD_cqzO3KA/s400/awkwardfamilyphotos.." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369795615062990786" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9dB3nCV5X0TRHaA8kYHV3eWC7kCNlnF0T18pBD1FZqBZ46neBVCfqCLzjqtaa0klZZNHkTxCt1hnpOw-K8tcEcr_ztoz1HrjCU15u16JUfPgOSiHUCllJ40edE1wj253CGBy2k0Krc5Y/s1600-h/awkwardfamilyphotos."><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9dB3nCV5X0TRHaA8kYHV3eWC7kCNlnF0T18pBD1FZqBZ46neBVCfqCLzjqtaa0klZZNHkTxCt1hnpOw-K8tcEcr_ztoz1HrjCU15u16JUfPgOSiHUCllJ40edE1wj253CGBy2k0Krc5Y/s400/awkwardfamilyphotos." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369795794017431730" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF42DWpTRHa29bgY9b3S9D82CfLu6TKIr9MY_-25heO5JGK_CiOmwY_CYCsms6kw8YCteMPUHiqSnBM7Zg3foZ8AZvtXaI-cwtuD2ZR2dvsWrm_5MVMUAL89fYNykEbhyphenhyphenhsD4kIJJR2lE/s1600-h/awkwardfamilyphotos......."><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF42DWpTRHa29bgY9b3S9D82CfLu6TKIr9MY_-25heO5JGK_CiOmwY_CYCsms6kw8YCteMPUHiqSnBM7Zg3foZ8AZvtXaI-cwtuD2ZR2dvsWrm_5MVMUAL89fYNykEbhyphenhyphenhsD4kIJJR2lE/s400/awkwardfamilyphotos......." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369795980592991922" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijd96rcDOEUaPVc905eqgztfntVguhBguNRjiz7qE3RPMJBxqnolZdl3BLnkNPu3a74xrhHfaaXV-kgWajEb2uQwtXSPoMy1XGzol__EEqK1eln-f5XFCgBfcDq6opdxbaafc6wWirJBo/s1600-h/awkwardfamilyphoto......"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijd96rcDOEUaPVc905eqgztfntVguhBguNRjiz7qE3RPMJBxqnolZdl3BLnkNPu3a74xrhHfaaXV-kgWajEb2uQwtXSPoMy1XGzol__EEqK1eln-f5XFCgBfcDq6opdxbaafc6wWirJBo/s400/awkwardfamilyphoto......" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369950996902374002" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1A6Jy0Lxw3klG6-dIUcxOxoDl4azslA7FuKmPIosOHzjpHuhj-o4OrCer_5JM8vflXh_qKw5OK4TmLeNhrpPtIo0VFPFPMJaGHbqGlIr5FJiJ9RPdpwvG_KWuXVoz8VN5x915oqojCX0/s1600-h/awkwardfamilyphotos"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 392px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1A6Jy0Lxw3klG6-dIUcxOxoDl4azslA7FuKmPIosOHzjpHuhj-o4OrCer_5JM8vflXh_qKw5OK4TmLeNhrpPtIo0VFPFPMJaGHbqGlIr5FJiJ9RPdpwvG_KWuXVoz8VN5x915oqojCX0/s400/awkwardfamilyphotos" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369951384959189314" border="0" /></a>What?!? I think this might be the most frightening of them all, ha!! As for the others, I think they speak for themselves... I'm starting to think photos like these are the reason I fear being photographed...<br /></div>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-73332396478680952212009-07-28T22:23:00.009-04:002009-07-28T23:59:02.649-04:00I am Lauren, Space Jam enthusiast<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhANBJ0NBYpWDYURUV6ex1sonI6-WV6o8cAa7iIyFT7hVEtelmzEMF0mtMppihpxn3xtK-jTuNX1kLBgtJ8qnpXPe6TSI-KV551nyOLSuItBD-YylLZH9fIeRXvVexEbfN51zUV1IBw2As/s1600-h/Space+Jam.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhANBJ0NBYpWDYURUV6ex1sonI6-WV6o8cAa7iIyFT7hVEtelmzEMF0mtMppihpxn3xtK-jTuNX1kLBgtJ8qnpXPe6TSI-KV551nyOLSuItBD-YylLZH9fIeRXvVexEbfN51zUV1IBw2As/s320/Space+Jam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363702916694876962" border="0" /></a>I recently read a NY Times article entitled <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/23/fashion/23nostalgia.html?_r=1">"Generation Y- They're 20-Something and Already Nostalgic."</a> It's SO true, yet I never realized that our generation, in this, was any different than others.....<br /><br />"Let the boomers have their 40th anniversary of Woodstock. Let Generation X commemorate the 15 years since Kurt Cobain shot himself. For Generation Y — those born roughly between 1980 and 2003 — it’s the pop culture of the late ’90s and early 2000s that makes them wistful.... Even though nostalgia hits every generation, it seems awfully early for 28-year-olds to be looking back. One possible explanation, say authors who focus on generational identity, is the impact of the terror attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. The political and economic climate of the late ’90s had been as soothing as a Backstreet Boys ballad: no wars, unemployment as low as 4 percent, a $120 billion federal surplus. "<br /><br />Maybe so... or perhaps it's just that the pop culture of our childhood years was just so darn cool! We can't help but long for the mere memories of such sheer goodness! Blame it on politics, if you must, but I still can't get enough of that loony film Space Jam. The theme song, sung by the Quad City DJs, was practically the anthem of my 2nd grade year (before MmmBop took it's place in 3rd)! You know the song I'm talking about.... "Everybody get up, it's time to slam now.... we got a real jam goin down..." I could keep going, for of course I know every single word... but then again, so do you.<br /><br />How anyone can hear that song and sit still is frighteningly puzzling to me. It is the ultimate dance tune... just singing it in my head gets my heart pumping! So, this summer, when I caught my cousins (10, 13, and 15) sitting in front of the TV, just SITTING on the couch, while the opening theme song blared through the speakers, "Work that body, work that body, make sure you don't hurt nobody!", you must imagine what pain I felt. How could they hear this and not jump on the furniture in a dance frenzy?!? I sure couldn't!! While the kids sat, motionless, in front of the screen, my mom (a loyal Space Jam fan as well) and I gave ourselves quite a workout shaking our tails to the song!<br /><br />The best thing, by far, about Space Jam is the music. I have absolutely no idea what's so cool about Michael Jordan talking to basketball playing looney tunes and alien monsters... not much if you ask me... but when paired with such an incredible soundtrack... it's really something special.<br /><br />For some reason I couldn't find a working version of the theme song music video... or the song... LAME<br /><br />And in case you aren't up with children's pop-culture of the mid-90's...<br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Hr81VwaWoOE&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Hr81VwaWoOE&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-14980874433602972702009-07-17T19:55:00.012-04:002009-07-18T00:01:39.118-04:00I am Lauren, bowl cut enthusiast<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_zkcAtqMF0pxH3OYjJCcP2ZA3eyGXGiV7l230pAkXpExcCyKfz4bndDCfcAm4YCGaju1Agia-N5IgL_0eXChnxltH_am8lgADT7KAgFXgQJnpijOht2waBr8jzpI80iY4snjuut7UdEA/s1600-h/2641056551_f87d1d1fb9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 152px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_zkcAtqMF0pxH3OYjJCcP2ZA3eyGXGiV7l230pAkXpExcCyKfz4bndDCfcAm4YCGaju1Agia-N5IgL_0eXChnxltH_am8lgADT7KAgFXgQJnpijOht2waBr8jzpI80iY4snjuut7UdEA/s400/2641056551_f87d1d1fb9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359601662770869506" /></a> As a child, I always seemed to have a thing for boys with bowl cuts... seriously. The hairstyle, while it was rather popular in the 80's, was definitely on it's way out during my elementary school days of the mid-90's... but a bowl cut always managed to find its way into the classroom. Not until I was much older did I realize why this hairstyle was called by such a name... I always called it a "bold" cut.<br /><br />These days, years after the perceived extinction of the bowl cut, such a hairstyle would most certainly be considered "bold." My first 21st century bowl cut sighting was last summer, I believe, at a <a href="http://www.myspace.com/officialtillyandthewall">Tilly and the Wall</a> concert. Guitarist, Derek Pressnall, sported the child-like do, and really pulled it off, if I must say so myself. He looked like a big 6 year old jumping around up there on stage... simply couldn't resist it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpjgSEFVJL_TEZw4Lr9iwwvyeqYElydAy1o6R-f28eok3zIC36n1b9dpMxTt62ws-0ICURiO9yz6enxtAKXSyTYnsNrPk6TEMbVQrcVvO_P-XMIxLK7wfQvqxGTI9Bn36zIuMUnjraSI/s1600-h/tillybowl"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpjgSEFVJL_TEZw4Lr9iwwvyeqYElydAy1o6R-f28eok3zIC36n1b9dpMxTt62ws-0ICURiO9yz6enxtAKXSyTYnsNrPk6TEMbVQrcVvO_P-XMIxLK7wfQvqxGTI9Bn36zIuMUnjraSI/s400/tillybowl" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359602286227169154" /></a> this is the only image I can find of Derek sporting the bowl...<br /><br />But now, a year later, I'm finding that bowl cuts are no longer only for childish dudes, but also for enviously fashionable females, particularly those hailing from Denmark. As I was scanning the archives of the Danish street style blog, <a href="http://www.gademode.dk/">GadeMode</a>, I quickly discovered what a trend this hair style has become among these gloriously chic and stylish Scandinavians.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe1PXWeI5EWg54ARXZ9ZhRZBqep1LwXuykHXcajzOsheG83EM1B7dqpRVuVjXAzeTZYfsr0UAU_py6kVKZZ9xbjq7fORoHrfXCPar3YU4XIwbiG6jdu7MFpjA47Dg2teONFf0MEerISCc/s1600-h/bowl"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe1PXWeI5EWg54ARXZ9ZhRZBqep1LwXuykHXcajzOsheG83EM1B7dqpRVuVjXAzeTZYfsr0UAU_py6kVKZZ9xbjq7fORoHrfXCPar3YU4XIwbiG6jdu7MFpjA47Dg2teONFf0MEerISCc/s400/bowl" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359594300351465266" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjySgi7Eu7q5Mx6tIceXbmD9XvykAr7OCKMn0yyQKpOoyKXRabem_zmAdgfsDl2Nvv7iTIVI_soBSqQXs1NlP3zFq7W58jc9OVKfU_hlO2PQKsLymZ_r3xdSk5TUPvWIVvbJfIs4IGCqCE/s1600-h/haircut...bowl"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjySgi7Eu7q5Mx6tIceXbmD9XvykAr7OCKMn0yyQKpOoyKXRabem_zmAdgfsDl2Nvv7iTIVI_soBSqQXs1NlP3zFq7W58jc9OVKfU_hlO2PQKsLymZ_r3xdSk5TUPvWIVvbJfIs4IGCqCE/s400/haircut...bowl" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359593288086849714" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKD5Eirg4sgFz0n-tEhsobtDDCpEDtlOl38ZHgtye7NByxdQeG0uhnrBo-bgeqqG3BpSNe4jPloaezGZmDQPTcH3tKJ_saGjO4MFRpmTWTQhfi3a8RIupJKFcBMoS404lhyphenhyphenGMNVpGwF8/s1600-h/hair...bowl.."><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKD5Eirg4sgFz0n-tEhsobtDDCpEDtlOl38ZHgtye7NByxdQeG0uhnrBo-bgeqqG3BpSNe4jPloaezGZmDQPTcH3tKJ_saGjO4MFRpmTWTQhfi3a8RIupJKFcBMoS404lhyphenhyphenGMNVpGwF8/s400/hair...bowl.." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359593736374608402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9Goct2x73TbkzO7f3CN4ooloG-kxdzOpTj334-FKn5Cdh56SZ4eqrV8opY70u05RLUwy4r2va9w8bPJlTGRfEasz2evD6u3ZuQouspjuhAVMNely6pSyCIXkP8gj8rh1w0QBj5bvzVI/s1600-h/img-1171-thumb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9Goct2x73TbkzO7f3CN4ooloG-kxdzOpTj334-FKn5Cdh56SZ4eqrV8opY70u05RLUwy4r2va9w8bPJlTGRfEasz2evD6u3ZuQouspjuhAVMNely6pSyCIXkP8gj8rh1w0QBj5bvzVI/s400/img-1171-thumb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359593999711317826" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcT4Fk4LnAyM10d1YKuhdMJHNFmuvITWgpJdl48GC3kQGksgAbM1AzHcz_XNCG8dYTnf0v-bXyFBuMsAvmoAU0ZTvwgRdE7JuOD6gUgSzGMmwEzLGzmOtTz_pZQC2zjwsiIJP9RZ8SHiA/s1600-h/haircut...bowl."><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcT4Fk4LnAyM10d1YKuhdMJHNFmuvITWgpJdl48GC3kQGksgAbM1AzHcz_XNCG8dYTnf0v-bXyFBuMsAvmoAU0ZTvwgRdE7JuOD6gUgSzGMmwEzLGzmOtTz_pZQC2zjwsiIJP9RZ8SHiA/s400/haircut...bowl." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359592988303704002" border="0" /></a><br />If I were one to mess with my hair, I'd definitely give this cut a go... but I'm not... so I'll keep on admiring. And perhaps I'll have a bold buddy who'll let me mess around with his/her hair! I've mastered the mullet (arguably so), but now I'm thinking it's high time I add this to my repertoire.... anyone feeling BOLD?!?!Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-22574453726880371662009-07-07T08:57:00.017-04:002009-07-07T17:09:22.986-04:00I am Lauren, desire to inspire enthusiastI'm not much of a blog reader. Sure, there are the few I check on a daily basis, and of course those belonging to my dear family and friends, but rarely do I find anything that has the power to captivate me for hours on end. I find myself yearning for inspiration, hoping to find blogs that I know must exist, such as one solely devoted to fabulous storefront displays... it's out there, right? I hunt for links posted by bloggers whose taste I admire, but seldom find anything that grabs me. Until I happened upon <a href="http://www.desiretoinspire.net/">desire to inspire</a>...<br /><a href="http://www.desiretoinspire.net"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMk2Hqd3BdrodgVeTnFqznPulA06z2soEiflIM_COT_TbxtiZJh32n94YdOcwPEsLoRel7KOaYkmaSqzRIH2tivkdjqwXwTKpeEbK3HJi1XYB0Yqda7G028NTe7ZE5qrCOu8d-qSq4_g/s1600-h/desiretoinspire"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMk2Hqd3BdrodgVeTnFqznPulA06z2soEiflIM_COT_TbxtiZJh32n94YdOcwPEsLoRel7KOaYkmaSqzRIH2tivkdjqwXwTKpeEbK3HJi1XYB0Yqda7G028NTe7ZE5qrCOu8d-qSq4_g/s400/desiretoinspire" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355718407449964946" border="0" /></a></a>This design blog hosted by "an Australian and a Canadian hoping to inspire the world one room at a time" is just what I've been needing in my life. With several image filled posts a day dating back to January 2007, just digging through the archives is enough to keep me entertained for weeks! I've been scrolling through the archives for a week now, and I've only made it back to July 2008... still another year and a half to look forward to!<br /><br />Kim and Jo (the Australian and the Canadian) feature rooms of all aesthetics... all of which manage to inspire them, not to mention their countless readers, in some profound way. They praise the stylists and designers, the photographers and architects... everyone who goes into creating fabulous interiors. With an interior of my own in the works, this blog has really got me thinking about what I can do to maximize the space that I have. These images, in particular are serving as inspiration.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUzfX6FgoZVr3ikM9kQYGq95HEdBZr4IvtmnBc6BT9AaNgB0ezbBEBYjAErRRzFThm3rJAY89RZQj7kPxwfogWMtH4OcQkXWGW-0JiOnEWflsrN4oQdQSM7dxkAMuZ4etZmuJ_5w3qwag/s1600-h/emma+lee"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUzfX6FgoZVr3ikM9kQYGq95HEdBZr4IvtmnBc6BT9AaNgB0ezbBEBYjAErRRzFThm3rJAY89RZQj7kPxwfogWMtH4OcQkXWGW-0JiOnEWflsrN4oQdQSM7dxkAMuZ4etZmuJ_5w3qwag/s400/emma+lee" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355708444953831202" border="0" /></a>photographer, Emma Lee<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix9tE9lilZ5qj0P1Z5XJ1uetDq18hcOFgjVtq24MOqx7jhAvNijhmC_EqfbUiY40KTHFHBnmbhTnQOInLvib33Gtrd_MossQTbEB6eAPL93h43f-wIkohl5Ob1kJgl_3Rx6IKEHLQhgK4/s1600-h/thomas+jayne......"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 305px; height: 379px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix9tE9lilZ5qj0P1Z5XJ1uetDq18hcOFgjVtq24MOqx7jhAvNijhmC_EqfbUiY40KTHFHBnmbhTnQOInLvib33Gtrd_MossQTbEB6eAPL93h43f-wIkohl5Ob1kJgl_3Rx6IKEHLQhgK4/s400/thomas+jayne......" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355709466580332690" border="0" /></a>designer, Thomas Jayne<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8s9Mhv79-4Kf7805LzK2Nzt9uEkfw1aHOJgrResiOjzwdCaZ-YCNAueAE-mNSLIV3rhD12Fa0DjuATfK8_mbZHJRAf4CwRXxias2hJWT003ksvIRZ6Anje5lpgRIvsgNXB1-QcuTxXPU/s1600-h/thomas+jayne....."><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 331px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8s9Mhv79-4Kf7805LzK2Nzt9uEkfw1aHOJgrResiOjzwdCaZ-YCNAueAE-mNSLIV3rhD12Fa0DjuATfK8_mbZHJRAf4CwRXxias2hJWT003ksvIRZ6Anje5lpgRIvsgNXB1-QcuTxXPU/s400/thomas+jayne....." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355710123649206658" border="0" /></a>Thomas Jayne, again<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13a6MTLQdMQwXu8Ul-Jp74ly1oi1ik1Lopu_hzDvelWBUFV9gqz1rIWubAVbxatMnvKChujurHSyF2W5b-kPTOBu7EHVzZGg_A425-0_jiPfcqLuRj7ZZhSvzLWyqJEhiJcFbI4OFMMA/s1600-h/melissa+rufty."><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13a6MTLQdMQwXu8Ul-Jp74ly1oi1ik1Lopu_hzDvelWBUFV9gqz1rIWubAVbxatMnvKChujurHSyF2W5b-kPTOBu7EHVzZGg_A425-0_jiPfcqLuRj7ZZhSvzLWyqJEhiJcFbI4OFMMA/s400/melissa+rufty." alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355712810436600034" border="0" /></a>designer, Melissa Rufty... I'm a bit too color shy to actually do this, but there's something special about the whole package<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdSme4JlqoLHtTPCtHFOAO-3ACBRi_vAelw3mxYLOGNSY40zAsYLCcvU7_6vtgaY7OpatS_k8NyjkLOU8HOUw4LicwiRm8i5Sn1s45zS0c3AxDwZg6exo_zPNLppmVdczrsr42Gh4OB24/s1600-h/kim"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdSme4JlqoLHtTPCtHFOAO-3ACBRi_vAelw3mxYLOGNSY40zAsYLCcvU7_6vtgaY7OpatS_k8NyjkLOU8HOUw4LicwiRm8i5Sn1s45zS0c3AxDwZg6exo_zPNLppmVdczrsr42Gh4OB24/s400/kim" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355710679645169042" border="0" /></a>Kim, of desire to inspire... the perfect vignette<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM6sZaVKLwOdU7ArZT6CliJFGhsb7RiEdIiBTVKS5HzQqM5nqENACpLBJ5QefTDu9UvJ-I79LC4fqtCDibtZ7tRDTfFp9igh3RXCXVcpmgRgkU7pAQ13pRTqtlQOuSm-f-R_i-ZC_oQOA/s1600-h/dominomag.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 354px; height: 375px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM6sZaVKLwOdU7ArZT6CliJFGhsb7RiEdIiBTVKS5HzQqM5nqENACpLBJ5QefTDu9UvJ-I79LC4fqtCDibtZ7tRDTfFp9igh3RXCXVcpmgRgkU7pAQ13pRTqtlQOuSm-f-R_i-ZC_oQOA/s400/dominomag.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355711700434446002" border="0" /></a>an image from Domino mag<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhI849fkM9H2fIBqcrwAty9jtvKX1icDXswOlpjNcFKdRfF9gcagQ-tr9pfAiXHC8b7ytd3jOETa2XZARXZNrUrHaJfUuaeaIJU-FkBbMjuqxCvFX_JM-fHPaDM6Z2BoxVlIM3wOewp64/s1600-h/kate+fine"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhI849fkM9H2fIBqcrwAty9jtvKX1icDXswOlpjNcFKdRfF9gcagQ-tr9pfAiXHC8b7ytd3jOETa2XZARXZNrUrHaJfUuaeaIJU-FkBbMjuqxCvFX_JM-fHPaDM6Z2BoxVlIM3wOewp64/s400/kate+fine" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355712180280551730" border="0" /></a>designer, Kate Fine<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Es4p66Pz_i9q5FT3Dih9F8PBxFy9WEZDOjCcP5BUmtfTiDBRr7zFN2-qIqfe4O90WfSUIRHg5BNgLgEc8n2Ed8Ot_ka-5kMy5WgJlyuZea12JY8mxPLlL2WBjAsLJ5VtQls7kzzcsjQ/s1600-h/stools"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Es4p66Pz_i9q5FT3Dih9F8PBxFy9WEZDOjCcP5BUmtfTiDBRr7zFN2-qIqfe4O90WfSUIRHg5BNgLgEc8n2Ed8Ot_ka-5kMy5WgJlyuZea12JY8mxPLlL2WBjAsLJ5VtQls7kzzcsjQ/s400/stools" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355708781825179810" border="0" /></a>I NEED these stools!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">In the very near future I'll give you a peek into the innards of my own home. I keep putting it off because it's not "finished," but I'm starting to realize that there's no such thing as a finished interior. One of the many things my mother has taught me, especially over the past few years, is that there's no reason a room should be stagnant... it should be alive... evolving to fit it's resident's needs and tastes.<br /></div></div>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-56870534354752527612009-06-30T18:04:00.004-04:002009-07-03T22:40:29.609-04:00I am Lauren, baby doll enthusiastAs a child, I seldom partook in the typical baby doll activities such as playing pretend family or pretend school. I thought it futile to try to talk to something with plastic appendages and cotton fluff innards. Instead, my baby dolls functioned as miniature models. I dressed them in real baby clothes, some of which could be found on my own body back in my infant days. My assortment of barbies donned outfits I could only dream of wearing some day. I arranged them in rooms created in my makeshift Barbie mansion (a bookshelf, what else?!) and they just sat there, until I decided it was time for a new outfit or a change of scenery.<br /><br />Since those days, I've developed a growing fascination with dolls. In high school, while browsing a the crafty hot-spot, Hobby Lobby, I came across the happiest little kewpie doll that I simply couldn't resist. At $2, I of course had to have him. He found his home on the dash of my car, and lived there for several years. I became known for this nameless naked baby. "Why Lauren?" my friends would ask. "He just makes me so happy!" was always my response.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjba44NFv5dZhEpKkB36Rubsw_EM9ykocAJ4yTDTo7d4DaCla-OUQCz88IQ77ABTn03zc-WiIEYzhaAptOG_hVwY3DlOCkuDO9nfKZrvkPFmrp0qQSIy0SRtdggUUkZJW_BLaP7QmnMoC4/s1600-h/kewpie"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjba44NFv5dZhEpKkB36Rubsw_EM9ykocAJ4yTDTo7d4DaCla-OUQCz88IQ77ABTn03zc-WiIEYzhaAptOG_hVwY3DlOCkuDO9nfKZrvkPFmrp0qQSIy0SRtdggUUkZJW_BLaP7QmnMoC4/s400/kewpie" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353219711215218210" border="0" /></a>I was thrilled to find this gloriously tattooed kewpie at <a href="http://www.mcachicago.org/">Chicago's Museum of Contemporary Art</a> several years ago. It was part of a show featuring various works from Mexico. This piece in particular is by the Mexican artist and tattooist, Dr. Lakra.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6D9XzYognbidq4oNkgcj27u-O1wZrs9tTtApqotZVZ2oI5bPR011WOdVRzWNpL_PzV-YI51kPldIxT53u7cE_m0nL9tcbfkcqV7r-RjnhyphenhyphenwzSFMawqZBjqhu2N6fk26ZAQSixoX6NDTQ/s1600-h/babylakra.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6D9XzYognbidq4oNkgcj27u-O1wZrs9tTtApqotZVZ2oI5bPR011WOdVRzWNpL_PzV-YI51kPldIxT53u7cE_m0nL9tcbfkcqV7r-RjnhyphenhyphenwzSFMawqZBjqhu2N6fk26ZAQSixoX6NDTQ/s400/babylakra.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353242078728116898" border="0" /></a>I also was known for my "swinging baby earrings." I went through a phase of goofy jewelry making. Baby dolls were, of course, a prominent theme. I sold these cuties on ebay for a mere $5. I'm thinking I ought to make some more... and, yes, my hair did look like this, once upon a time.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW9FaaFbHcyyn_3HiAK11MZsoRv-bYneTFHtgVpxAgzwux3Juz32uBt05jNzfwJkTMEPgvDlQ8-JTz1zLksq8C71oXv1tyupTQVRsXvrmGySgfcnzpID5OdA-EfAk_s44M14cbu3G295Y/s1600-h/swinging+babies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW9FaaFbHcyyn_3HiAK11MZsoRv-bYneTFHtgVpxAgzwux3Juz32uBt05jNzfwJkTMEPgvDlQ8-JTz1zLksq8C71oXv1tyupTQVRsXvrmGySgfcnzpID5OdA-EfAk_s44M14cbu3G295Y/s400/swinging+babies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354424308764699106" border="0" /></a><br />This growing fascination quickly turned into an antique baby doll obsession. I'd scan second-hand stores for quirky additions to my ever-increasing collection. Here's how I have my favorites displayed at the moment.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikBXC0uK0fe8QGdNXvHb6UkFg9Yxu1z2FaALCEW90G6CTardXbVUaNY_9R3j6HfDb2qMLhUPoJrEW4T2T5lx_uz4169x4Iqn1vq5XNTQ6xMtMsm50bMue-semQpMNwCItBPn8hoNKRcpg/s1600-h/baby-closeup.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikBXC0uK0fe8QGdNXvHb6UkFg9Yxu1z2FaALCEW90G6CTardXbVUaNY_9R3j6HfDb2qMLhUPoJrEW4T2T5lx_uz4169x4Iqn1vq5XNTQ6xMtMsm50bMue-semQpMNwCItBPn8hoNKRcpg/s400/baby-closeup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353244065022499794" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjez9ED3iO0uUDpkA_g6u_lL3llzhHmXl191Mt208BtW1EaBGpM2JCHOO_Cvg9LI_yiQtkDY_adFgR419FQSESmIp5e5O3guDDwi_hMu6677fFbbkcZvkmAZplLXXGwc33GFstB2MgiDvQ/s1600-h/baby.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjez9ED3iO0uUDpkA_g6u_lL3llzhHmXl191Mt208BtW1EaBGpM2JCHOO_Cvg9LI_yiQtkDY_adFgR419FQSESmIp5e5O3guDDwi_hMu6677fFbbkcZvkmAZplLXXGwc33GFstB2MgiDvQ/s400/baby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353244512178420690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7sKVaXREIZlK3sfMi64pzf0RHN_grnn7u1nMGIJ5U-YdUNYZ6nP4PXK7M546y3KbZpS4DXe1ENm9FfZoE7bodmb5DaaRAZmmlEM5WdPBbDVDHMX0mZ7B35FnVeAxYcLVnPBkiovlfoU/s1600-h/IMG_1029.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7sKVaXREIZlK3sfMi64pzf0RHN_grnn7u1nMGIJ5U-YdUNYZ6nP4PXK7M546y3KbZpS4DXe1ENm9FfZoE7bodmb5DaaRAZmmlEM5WdPBbDVDHMX0mZ7B35FnVeAxYcLVnPBkiovlfoU/s400/IMG_1029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353230952875630162" border="0" /> </a>Sure, they may at times be slightly disturbing, but I simply cannot resist their charm!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFAGoawrBXEJZ10bnJGb9grwQhXqggO5t3jJpGja3iiYgBMLsjGMmTafQRGKG5lMLsBAs7eH6C-lqxCO6XHTyzPIt2l82SNv1NAFVxL7rRZktNxPerJPjirr70Uol9GEc_ebo4ePlD3o4/s1600-h/babymilk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFAGoawrBXEJZ10bnJGb9grwQhXqggO5t3jJpGja3iiYgBMLsjGMmTafQRGKG5lMLsBAs7eH6C-lqxCO6XHTyzPIt2l82SNv1NAFVxL7rRZktNxPerJPjirr70Uol9GEc_ebo4ePlD3o4/s400/babymilk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353239886322379618" border="0" /></a><br />P.S. Does anyone know where I can get my hands on a jacket like this?!?!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivztL12EI36lnBil1eXrWIsAisO4BIjBrPSslS8SvqcqsncuR22G1tQwr9vT_kdA3QoIc8n3pEjX-HAseIEts31_bgmhUT-y4xk7uvO_pY7XkRDSneyIfYDoKBZixExT3Mre_pj0TGnNE/s1600-h/babyshirt"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivztL12EI36lnBil1eXrWIsAisO4BIjBrPSslS8SvqcqsncuR22G1tQwr9vT_kdA3QoIc8n3pEjX-HAseIEts31_bgmhUT-y4xk7uvO_pY7XkRDSneyIfYDoKBZixExT3Mre_pj0TGnNE/s400/babyshirt" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353311858440940130" border="0" /></a>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-64698978861222116582009-06-09T20:17:00.003-04:002009-06-10T10:01:03.079-04:00I am Lauren, swimming pool enthusiast<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9kGp-nLSE1RRL0Ks7Z0LmiGPh919QG6abUFWqRb45-ga9pt3-qKJOArCRoaSLDuKCGKBks799ltNi-gtFvuGFUnP2NE1QWehfoPMwA6Z6hfgPFa1PJuk6V8d83xJg5fsEIyiJ6B1ESY/s1600-h/pool"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 169px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9kGp-nLSE1RRL0Ks7Z0LmiGPh919QG6abUFWqRb45-ga9pt3-qKJOArCRoaSLDuKCGKBks799ltNi-gtFvuGFUnP2NE1QWehfoPMwA6Z6hfgPFa1PJuk6V8d83xJg5fsEIyiJ6B1ESY/s320/pool" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345679892117840594" border="0" /></a>Riding around town yesterday afternoon, my friend Michelle and I came across what appeared to be a public swimming pool. Our intense enthusiasm and curiosity fueled us to confirm with the guy behind the window (apparently a former classmate of Michelle's) that the body of water is indeed intended for public use. Just one dollar to swim. Can't beat that.<br /><br />I was more than thrilled. Minutes prior to our discovery, I had just admitted to Michelle that I much prefer the pool to the beach. Charleston is surrounded by beaches, and fairly good ones at that, but going to any of these beaches is something I seldom ever do. I think my main issue with the beach is the sand... the stuff just really wigs me out. I love the way the air feels at the beach. I like what it does to my skin, my hair. But the sand entirely ruins it for me.<br /><br />I like pools because I like to swim. When I swim, my eyes stay open, so swimming in the ocean, for me, tends to be a terribly painful experience. In the ocean, I do all that I can to keep my head above water, but in the pool I know those chemicals will keep my eyes from burning quite so terribly. And, I love to dive... nothing fancy, just jumping into the pool head-first, and unless you have a fancy boat or immense rocky cliffs, you can't do such things into the ocean.<br /><br />So, after enthusiastically announcing to my roommate, Kristen, that such a thing as a public swimming pool actually exists in downtown Charleston (and just blocks from our new house!) we promptly decided to go for an afternoon swim. I reminisced about my most recent public pool experience. Two summers ago, in Brno, Czech Republic... lots of topless sunbathers, speedos, and thongs... and, no, I don't mean flip flops.<br /><br />I dove in, head first, losing my swimsuit as I always do, groping to get it back into place before my head surfaced the water. The pool was simply perfect for the sweaty summer day. But then a kid pooped... in the pool. Everyone scattered, yet seemed to stare at what must have been the turd. Kristen and I were playing in the deep-end, so we were slightly oblivious. We were amused by the lifeguard's poor turd fishing abilities... you'd think, working at a public pool, he'd have this down by now. Within twenty minutes or so the water was supposedly no longer contaminated. We dove right back in and swam until closing time (probably only 15 minutes later.)<br /><br />I'll be back, no doubt. I've found a new (revived) summer past-time. Pool party, anyone?Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-64249462909507491122009-06-08T09:05:00.013-04:002009-06-08T13:28:47.719-04:00I am Lauren, Christopher Kane enthusiastMy two very favorite blogs to follow are those belonging to mother-daughter duo, <a href="http://www.atlantishome.typepad.com/">Judy</a> and <a href="http://seaofshoes.typepad.com/">Jane </a>Aldridge. I won't go into detail as to how incredibly fabulous these girls are, for I'd like to do an entire post on them in the near future, but I just can't resist gushing on mom, Judy's latest look. This Christopher Kane dress is too good to be true. I wish I had $2612.23 to satisfy the intense clothing craving that I'm having right now.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMTXpfU637VjrJCpUZ7me1nkXMr21fSYHTF0oV-Fa0F3SyVpISdnWcbjnkJkX3MNHlgZJ7rkkf8FyEl2yj4bAZRDSDZFD5Od7QH8p9BAM7pTFtg7SLXAh6dRBilx9nrejGehDVFgi6tnE/s1600-h/kanejudy"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMTXpfU637VjrJCpUZ7me1nkXMr21fSYHTF0oV-Fa0F3SyVpISdnWcbjnkJkX3MNHlgZJ7rkkf8FyEl2yj4bAZRDSDZFD5Od7QH8p9BAM7pTFtg7SLXAh6dRBilx9nrejGehDVFgi6tnE/s400/kanejudy" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344943918989357282" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSL5aPWPYKyZOEwD5PALkid8stKSXkdTkDmJrR7LpIZj79z9cfPWKcCu9dlU-TRL7O7uI1jF7zH0yZuJfNBchTe590hQvDRs_D52MG5aiwDN6mJAwGuGGNkG1a3uY3cBO8eAX6gHjAb8/s1600-h/kanejudyclose"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSL5aPWPYKyZOEwD5PALkid8stKSXkdTkDmJrR7LpIZj79z9cfPWKcCu9dlU-TRL7O7uI1jF7zH0yZuJfNBchTe590hQvDRs_D52MG5aiwDN6mJAwGuGGNkG1a3uY3cBO8eAX6gHjAb8/s400/kanejudyclose" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344945470372834226" border="0" /></a>Judy's daughter Jane says,<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"The genius of this dress is that such a compellingly bizarre and barbarous statement has been put on such a conservative canvas....such dichotomy allows for some pretty reckless styling! This dress could seriously go with everything."<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">It's such a perfect piece. The shape and tones of the dress are so simple and quiet that they allow the image to really pop, in more ways than one. Balance is key.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXW0T8FmbGp4Gz3CLavaIk8q85wEstsQbtT6QbSGpDeUdvR05mRops4N_tuxtlO4ZXAmqRv22XmxoHA7gXdzubHM52jDhsFizwgixOP02Pi7mfbAvIZ7OOmINoZJP5WB_Co6y-UPZ1qc/s1600-h/christohper+kane"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXW0T8FmbGp4Gz3CLavaIk8q85wEstsQbtT6QbSGpDeUdvR05mRops4N_tuxtlO4ZXAmqRv22XmxoHA7gXdzubHM52jDhsFizwgixOP02Pi7mfbAvIZ7OOmINoZJP5WB_Co6y-UPZ1qc/s400/christohper+kane" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344976196542466354" border="0" /></a>London-based designer, Christopher Kane (pictured above, handsome huh?), has been putting out some pretty neat stuff over the past few years, but his Spring 09 collection definitely has to be my favorite. The gorillas add something really special to the line. I hope he does more work with these graphics. Here are a few others that peak my interest.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvtpdsSeTFWq-xuC0MiLXR1vKZqprh-X3A86vUJIhzWPl8xtu52482gopPob25cNiKLg1p3GqtWlcSper7N2-vHR4gcC3-M8kwrvx3Jp4wBNBXi7RUFZjC_6hO6qUvFJlZiUQsjHCbupk/s1600-h/kaneorange"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvtpdsSeTFWq-xuC0MiLXR1vKZqprh-X3A86vUJIhzWPl8xtu52482gopPob25cNiKLg1p3GqtWlcSper7N2-vHR4gcC3-M8kwrvx3Jp4wBNBXi7RUFZjC_6hO6qUvFJlZiUQsjHCbupk/s400/kaneorange" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344975168792038898" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsCf1o-miOXLJciSnlxlBrxdKSCc2FuLO4QIJoL-M2P7bgg5tqPi0Pd9c_MwaBYeyrP-_05UfyqSadk26fNuy5XBYNPjqNoUV1jBkK9SEE8xqwhGZ6Z8MR9ZSXLXYPQ8v9gR40J46Cn_4/s1600-h/kanepink"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsCf1o-miOXLJciSnlxlBrxdKSCc2FuLO4QIJoL-M2P7bgg5tqPi0Pd9c_MwaBYeyrP-_05UfyqSadk26fNuy5XBYNPjqNoUV1jBkK9SEE8xqwhGZ6Z8MR9ZSXLXYPQ8v9gR40J46Cn_4/s400/kanepink" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344975836932902034" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1X9pZ-b_xQbeBb2eQAU9llNrK4YM2HkNajT9Cypm6kvSIABlqbojGyyd5Q3zLx2FjMkaEB0ss7wy0iaxZQl1c8wBqeX5_oKBtlRvk81atXFUbagBw129wP5VzWQoPV8GSAdxyzljjcg/s1600-h/kaneyellow"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1X9pZ-b_xQbeBb2eQAU9llNrK4YM2HkNajT9Cypm6kvSIABlqbojGyyd5Q3zLx2FjMkaEB0ss7wy0iaxZQl1c8wBqeX5_oKBtlRvk81atXFUbagBw129wP5VzWQoPV8GSAdxyzljjcg/s400/kaneyellow" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344975965818232146" border="0" /></a>SO when I have my own gorilla dress (perhaps Forever 21 will do a knock-off...?) this is likely how I'll style it...<br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/gorilla/set?.mid=embed&id=9324125"><img alt="gorilla" src="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-set/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFkdISFptRU5VM2hHR2ZqTkRReGp0RmcAAAACaWQKAWUAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg" title="gorilla" border="0" height="400" width="400" /></a><br /></div><small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/gorilla/set?.mid=embed&id=9324125"><br /></a></small></div></div></div>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-41155791965341723752009-05-31T15:07:00.014-04:002009-05-31T17:18:44.446-04:00I am Lauren, boiled peanut enthusiastGrowing up, road trips meant boiled peanuts... guaranteed. Perhaps this had something to do with the destinations of such trips. Having 2 parents from central/south Georgia most likely had everything to do with it. Like okra and collards, boiled peanuts are a symbol of southern culture and cuisine.<br /><br />One can find boiled peanut stands scattered along the sides of curvy country back roads. This past weekend on my way to and from the Blue Ridge mountains I passed countless "p-nut" stands, each equally as tempting as the one before it. I was in a bit of a hurry, so I resisted the urge to pull over, yet craved them all the while.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYbWnoea_HsTy4miSLQOgGREOoIMK7pgqbfoSdwzrgeGc_imZOf3nNTG_fs7BOlJR3O6B40hPVD8XGWp2pZQVsLOpER5-6x6H7gcMzf4q2FS5IhtBJOn-ssoH4d4REcIhxaG603DGgnI/s1600-h/boiledpeanutss"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 354px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYbWnoea_HsTy4miSLQOgGREOoIMK7pgqbfoSdwzrgeGc_imZOf3nNTG_fs7BOlJR3O6B40hPVD8XGWp2pZQVsLOpER5-6x6H7gcMzf4q2FS5IhtBJOn-ssoH4d4REcIhxaG603DGgnI/s400/boiledpeanutss" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342093312882226130" border="0" /></a><br />Boiled peanuts just might be the ultimate snack. Their soft, boiled down texture and significantly salty flavor provide for quite a sensory experience. And not to mention, they're full of antioxidants! On May 1, 2006, Gov. Mark Sanford signed a bill making boiled peanuts the official snack food of South Carolina. Imagine that!<br /><br />In grade school I was known for the eccentric contents of my lunch bag. These canned boiled peanuts were a must-have. Not nearly as incredible as those found road-side, but delicious nonetheless.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoKXnkxSHvryYuQj5AmhW89KxYxQg_Q6ZKjJD5id8x3YwJO3zds7CLkFJSbCFQfTqI9PmdECASR32iMXYO07Yon19pAzvGNnY95TUA7uLIl3UV9GutT01ieVQAJo46ZXfUvyAkQMdpv9s/s1600-h/boiled-green-peanuts.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoKXnkxSHvryYuQj5AmhW89KxYxQg_Q6ZKjJD5id8x3YwJO3zds7CLkFJSbCFQfTqI9PmdECASR32iMXYO07Yon19pAzvGNnY95TUA7uLIl3UV9GutT01ieVQAJo46ZXfUvyAkQMdpv9s/s400/boiled-green-peanuts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342087807978987330" border="0" /></a>Since I seldom journey through country back roads these days, I've found another way to satisfy my boiled peanut cravings, besides the canned variety. Believe it or not, the Piggly Wiggly down the street from my house has its own boiled peanut stand! In fact, I'm munching on some as we speak... mmmm.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmewtcROztqX6KedcBknPF2vAGrgipw1BnnP35Cz6XS9hPmrhzU051uPsH6is00e8AlsX9aGv5cDWjEqZQwQMlpOw1r3WDcehNVA03CDYsPTKeyA2PH_2hWrWC2einREkc5g_Pr5ZAdbA/s1600-h/boiledpeanutspiggly"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmewtcROztqX6KedcBknPF2vAGrgipw1BnnP35Cz6XS9hPmrhzU051uPsH6is00e8AlsX9aGv5cDWjEqZQwQMlpOw1r3WDcehNVA03CDYsPTKeyA2PH_2hWrWC2einREkc5g_Pr5ZAdbA/s400/boiledpeanutspiggly" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342098507577187426" border="0" /></a>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-26518423710018841702009-05-21T21:53:00.011-04:002009-05-21T23:06:58.141-04:00I am Lauren, oxford enthusiastEver since last fall I've been on a hunt for the most perfect oxford flats. I wanted a pair that weren't <span style="font-style: italic;">too </span>menswear, and was having a heard time finding anything that I thought I'd actually wear... until I found these at Urban Outfitters. When I saw them in the store, I knew immediately they were the ones. I told myself, "If they fit, I'll buy them," even though they were still full price (I never pay full price for things, so that says a lot)! They fit perfectly. I promptly took them to the lady at the register.<br /><br />I've not regretted this purchase, not once! These shoes are proving to be my staple summer accessory. They're incredibly comfortable and they're simply perfect for bike rides around town.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">This look reflects how I've been wearing them most lately...<br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><div><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/untitled/set?.mid=embed&id=8876838"><img alt="Untitled" src="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-set/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFlFGREFyWFpHM2hHQWFQTWktRXRxb1EAAAACaWQKAWUAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg" title="Untitled" border="0" height="400" width="400" /></a><small><a rel="nofollow" href="http://www.polyvore.com/untitled/set?.mid=embed&id=8876838"><br /></a><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/by_malene_birger_skirts/shop?brand=By+Malene+Birger&category_id=8"></a></small></div><small><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">or for a grungier look, I'd likely go for something like this</span><br /></span></small></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><a rel="nofollow"></a></span><div style="text-align: center;"><div><small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/untitled/set?.mid=embed&id=8877398"><img alt="Untitled" src="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-set/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFjVyaWFLbnBHM2hHT05zWUtmaUFDZUEAAAACaWQKAWUAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg" title="Untitled" border="0" height="400" width="400" /></a><br /><small><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;">What is your summer staple?</span><br /></small></small></div></div></div>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-49855249389606221832009-05-15T20:23:00.005-04:002009-05-19T18:17:52.324-04:00I am Lauren, home sweet home enthusiastThe past few years I've spent dreaming of the day when I would have a home of my own to infiltrate and outfit. And the past few weeks I've spent doing just that. It's literally a dream come true. My time has finally come... to satisfy my irresistible urge to settle. And it just so happens that I get to fulfill my dreams in the most adorable house ever!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXnLfwhnxa6UWRJ9_miGk0rvUua3TXO9OHh1D41smN3z5R4ZQ1jOqiTaCwzjzmJWvcoldtBxVTlOb_v4f2D1W45BpU-Ztw-VVFdHItJsfI2gEe8DKh7rNMlyIel0k7Yu3bwxtSRl-10I/s1600-h/IMG_1013.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXnLfwhnxa6UWRJ9_miGk0rvUua3TXO9OHh1D41smN3z5R4ZQ1jOqiTaCwzjzmJWvcoldtBxVTlOb_v4f2D1W45BpU-Ztw-VVFdHItJsfI2gEe8DKh7rNMlyIel0k7Yu3bwxtSRl-10I/s400/IMG_1013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336211330022579682" border="0" /></a>I know this urge is unusual, especially for someone just shy of 20 yrs, but it's something I can't shake; it is my nature to nest. I like to make things my own, in all arenas, so when it comes to something as personal as creating a home environment, I can't help but assume tremendous responsibility to make it mine. This isn't one of those nagging responsibilities, but an enthusing, consuming compulsion to cultivate space... personal space.<br /><br />I have always had a rather keen awareness of my surroundings and I feel strongly that the arrangement of space is crucial to well-being. It's all about balance. Perhaps I should look into becoming a feng shui master...?<br /><br />The home is something that I value and cherish as the ultimate personal/shared space. I spent roughly 17 years in the same house, so perhaps that has something to do with why I feel so strongly about the importance of a sense of permanence in the home environment. I hope/plan to spend the next 2 years in this little green house. And after that...? To be honest, when it comes to the future, my nesting nature frightens me a bit. It conflicts with my sense of adventure and my desires to see the world, to get to know other places. How can I settle if I'm jet setting? Will I find a balance? Can I find a balance?<br /><br />One of these days I'll give you a peek of what's happening inside (and outside!) of the house... looking lovely, but still a work in progress!Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-43119651931537850952009-04-14T08:24:00.014-04:002009-04-16T19:54:07.317-04:00I am Lauren, cheese enthusiast<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWufTorc6HshRfq3iOa811yIKdADfndv95vQl38p1SSjUlcRfJt_9u7UrfkzTb0g36dc_WwhjAo1o6N5yG0URCrNWLHgc5xcRLcffHEXsjBHbjqlywsnnh8e0DUHBd7Mkc85bu4UIlRQ/s1600-h/cheeeeeeeese.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324598964280309282" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 258px; height: 191px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWufTorc6HshRfq3iOa811yIKdADfndv95vQl38p1SSjUlcRfJt_9u7UrfkzTb0g36dc_WwhjAo1o6N5yG0URCrNWLHgc5xcRLcffHEXsjBHbjqlywsnnh8e0DUHBd7Mkc85bu4UIlRQ/s320/cheeeeeeeese.gif" border="0" /></a> I've always been a little different... never quite the norm. I've been aware of this for quite some time, but for some reason it took a $15 hunk of Manchego cheese for it to really sink in... I am so not normal.<br /><br />College students are supposed to eat Velveeta and Kraft, not fine exotic cheeses. What's wrong with me? I get such a thrill from just browsing the gourmet cheese stand in the grocery store... and about once a month I let myself splurge on a new type of cheese. I used to go through these cheeses like they were blocks of cheddar from the dairy isle, until I realized why I could never leave the grocery store without spending less than $60... it's the darn (but delicious) cheese! So now I stick to my trusty (yet tasty) $3 Kraft Extra Sharp Cheddar for everyday use and save the Havarti, Emmentaler, and Edam for special occasions.<br /><br />Unfortunately, this is often how I feel when I share my delicacies with others...<br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTZFPCYyIFIL8xREoxXKeg8agbnyK5-8bq-eZw7OF1E_AIQ1mj79FQyNUd24BBw59a1eEkGD_aRRX6ZEDz9AcjfTob4UL3Mz_0qJgc2j3zVKDALh2si68S-fggpfpYDsVUHlEbiNIZns/s1600-h/little-hot-dogs-1.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324536774897463394" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 304px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTZFPCYyIFIL8xREoxXKeg8agbnyK5-8bq-eZw7OF1E_AIQ1mj79FQyNUd24BBw59a1eEkGD_aRRX6ZEDz9AcjfTob4UL3Mz_0qJgc2j3zVKDALh2si68S-fggpfpYDsVUHlEbiNIZns/s400/little-hot-dogs-1.gif" border="0" /></a> Those who have attended any of my dinner parties might possibly relate.<br /><br /><div>Now, I'm not a total cheese snob! Just this morning I had cheese toast topped with a slice of American. I'll note, though, that it was most certainly NOT the individually wrapped kind. I like to keep a pack of American slices for grilled cheese and cheese toast. mmm. Everything else I've tried just gets too greasy... especially cheddar.</div><br /><div>I'm not afraid to try new types of cheese... stinky cheese, slimy cheese, creamy cheese, chunky cheese, you name it. So far, I've only encountered one cheese that I never care to taste again... the Czech Republic's famous <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2006/11/05/TRGVHM4Q9R1.DTL">olomoucké tvarůžky</a>, known for its pungent smell and deep yellow color.</div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324594923341310946" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 278px; height: 205px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoqosX0D480hTlRTvZ9K-QAsa0jhPRyq-lO8ShFBCrzsE_S5xFWjQc7x4ofb-e8l-tmpDYcIAPKwQgpGTMEt3W1cEwKCyE-X9lHbf0vz64prz9AOe-EDWZYxol5ho1pTTKYB9OcoSM6x0/s400/cheese.jpg" border="0" /></div></div>yuck! I can't even begin to describe it... if you're ever in the Czech Republic, you simply must try it for yourself.<br /><br />One of these days, I hope to be some kind of wacky cheese connoisseur. Perhaps I'll take a class at a culinary institute or even go on a European cheese tour (seriously?!). But for now, why don't we share a lovely cheese plate at <a href="http://caviarandbananas.com/">Caviar and Bananas</a>...<br /><br />p.s. does anyone remember the stinky cheese man?!?!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfNJNeaOSq9MYTvxjV310MSDahy3o4KKZa_pugNiFGSjETair9pnWEOaFgziAYA-_-ab01NkTO1IWTotGr21mrT82MrRCootRcAonK9TrSvmfljpQF3-QLtzwqFyU3j_0OGZlRk_r0z8/s1600-h/cheeseman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfNJNeaOSq9MYTvxjV310MSDahy3o4KKZa_pugNiFGSjETair9pnWEOaFgziAYA-_-ab01NkTO1IWTotGr21mrT82MrRCootRcAonK9TrSvmfljpQF3-QLtzwqFyU3j_0OGZlRk_r0z8/s200/cheeseman.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325441687235592690" /></a>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-71388891320204625172009-03-08T15:40:00.005-04:002009-03-08T17:00:31.808-04:00I am Lauren, red nail polish enthusiast<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmaJ7Gp7utYoEMe7DlZRkQLZepyXvG-rlMa4e7QpZEVPOJTg8xMpnlD5XgGmBoflj2IewslnOhbr5hlEi2a09pmm5_7jtPXCM4WFxxWKYL8FmRV2sjlORR2sImxKCIxd9QzNFIwZhurlU/s1600-h/NLA16_opi_nail_polish.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmaJ7Gp7utYoEMe7DlZRkQLZepyXvG-rlMa4e7QpZEVPOJTg8xMpnlD5XgGmBoflj2IewslnOhbr5hlEi2a09pmm5_7jtPXCM4WFxxWKYL8FmRV2sjlORR2sImxKCIxd9QzNFIwZhurlU/s400/NLA16_opi_nail_polish.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310905731031044994" border="0" /></a><br />Nothing beats a good red. Sure, I'll go for various shades of pink and purple, but a solid red just can't be beat... It's classic and it NEVER goes out of style!<br /><br />My red polish of choice, these days, is O.P.I.'s "The Thrill of Brazil." It works wonders with my creamy (pasty?) white skin, which is slightly ironic, for I highly doubt that anyone remotely as pale as myself could be found in a place like Brazil! Perhaps the polish is so powerful (it does work wonders, after all) that it could make a person like me stand out among those stereotypical Brazilian babes... Gisele Bündchen better watch out!! Or, maybe it gives me the thrill of Brazil without the trauma of being seen in a Brazilian bikini!?!<br /><br />Regardless... it looks good... and it's the right red for me!<br /><br />Finding the right red isn't easy! It can be truly overwhelming, considering how outrageously many shades of red are out there! It can take time, but, trust me, finding the right red is truly worth the hunt!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Just look what it does to this look! Imagine your juicy red toenails peeping out of the insane Givenchy wedges!! The right red polish is the perfect accent to this already fabulous outfit!<br />(and some red lips couldn't hurt either!!)<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/untitled/set?.mid=embed&id=6335673"><img alt="Untitled" src="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-set/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFnNDeS1VYkx6M1JHdmowRUhvLTVIUFEAAAACaWQKAWUAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg" title="Untitled" border="0" height="400" width="400" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">So be it "The Thrill of Brazil," "Big Apple Red," "Cajun Shrimp," or "I'm Not Really a Waitress," your remarkably right red polish is out there waiting for you to find it!! And once you find it, you'll be ready to tackle an even more foreboding task... finding the right red lipstick!!<br /></div></div></div><small><br /></small>Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-91675249564821317692009-02-15T12:43:00.010-05:002009-02-16T08:09:49.617-05:00I am Lauren, Fun Dip enthusiast<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKq8i4B3cGfbRTQ0AkhNKFWJr41zX4EhHRfKfEZdhyvEvX3EDrYkZGOJsbyhYaOFItniVCLUL45MLg75gtovpTDL8tvOCoVBpFlbdgKkQYLUtoJA0G3-VQSeD64-Rp9J8Y7Le4yalQRc0/s1600-h/fundip.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 202px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKq8i4B3cGfbRTQ0AkhNKFWJr41zX4EhHRfKfEZdhyvEvX3EDrYkZGOJsbyhYaOFItniVCLUL45MLg75gtovpTDL8tvOCoVBpFlbdgKkQYLUtoJA0G3-VQSeD64-Rp9J8Y7Le4yalQRc0/s320/fundip.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303097316591737218" border="0" /></a>A few weeks ago, my friend Kristen, in an arbitrary yet curiously genuine manner, asked me, "Lauren, what's your favorite candy?" Her sincere, childlike question rendered what some might read as an equally child-like response. Normally, favoritism inquisitions are unnaturally difficult for a person like me, but I was surprised at how quickly I came up with an answer. "Fun Dip," I replied with an odd look on my face, for it had been years since I had even thought of this wildly under-appreciated treat. Her response surprised me even more than my answer... "FUN DIP?!?!?" She was flabbergasted!<br /><br />What's wrong with Fun Dip, I ask? Apparently, cultured, well-traveled people with a taste for the finer things in life are not supposed to like the mass-produced sugary mess. Kristen expected my favorite candy to be some kind of exotic foreign delicacy, but no, it's Fun Dip, the stuff that turns your teeth blue.<br /><br />Weeks later, I come home to find a mound of my very favorite candy neatly wrapped with a pink bow- the perfect Valentine's treat! What a pleasant surprise! (thanks K!) As I devour the Fun Dip, I am reminded of why I love it so much. The the mild, milky stick dunked in the colorful, tart powder results in one of the most interesting sensations that stimulates all the senses. The combination of colors, the juxtaposition of textures, the interaction of flavors, and the kinetic experience all contribute to the enjoyment of the fabulous (and especially fun) Fun Dip! Though I may not be your typical Fun Dip enthusiast, I do believe that my favorite candy reflects me as one who delights in often overlooked details and explosions of sensory experience.<br /><br />I'd sincerely like to know, what is your favorite candy and how does it reflect your personality?Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7474559445131884911.post-72992146629579786362009-01-29T19:53:00.006-05:002009-02-15T14:49:25.863-05:00I am Lauren, Lady Gaga enthusiastThis morning, while enjoying my coffee, and scanning Yahoo's OMG! page (a daily exercise), I came across these pictures of Lady Gaga...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBX1Dn4OCG8HnNxdJsn7fWgjmDOj0wI9icBESYh8Z-_7lQyK41NjTPU4aAqNGKL-NFlpk8Dg5ICjdOTXjSYBE1aaLJdf4vlIRXZdkA0t6HI9w2UQ0td6KatyWnqQc90550qkmCnzvUR8/s1600-h/ladygagaaa"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 339px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBX1Dn4OCG8HnNxdJsn7fWgjmDOj0wI9icBESYh8Z-_7lQyK41NjTPU4aAqNGKL-NFlpk8Dg5ICjdOTXjSYBE1aaLJdf4vlIRXZdkA0t6HI9w2UQ0td6KatyWnqQc90550qkmCnzvUR8/s400/ladygagaaa" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296755594565345314" border="0" /></a><br />Who in the world is Lady Gaga and why am I just now finding out about her? Where have I been??? Well, nonetheless, anyone who can rock this hairstyle, automatically earns my respect and devotion. The "do" is reminiscent of my very favorite Project Runway Season 3 contestant, Allison Kelly's design...no? She got kicked off for this one, ugh!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_AfKHc6UgTWpp8eMmQMEDwywO875nmDQSqX7vhWmBa3aj6r09EidEVNeYRQhyxmcrT91RHPFqsaqmWCqFQFds_75TLBCdHTvvBMataRIl6IFgzn5IGhKXZzaMky6Q58aiU6SsVz0ZRA/s1600-h/allisonkellybow"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_AfKHc6UgTWpp8eMmQMEDwywO875nmDQSqX7vhWmBa3aj6r09EidEVNeYRQhyxmcrT91RHPFqsaqmWCqFQFds_75TLBCdHTvvBMataRIl6IFgzn5IGhKXZzaMky6Q58aiU6SsVz0ZRA/s400/allisonkellybow" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296870444944182130" border="0" /></a><br />While I absolutely adore Allison, and her designs, I have to give it to Lady Gaga for truly pulling off this hairstyle. The bangs soften the look, and make all the difference. She says that the style is inspired by a 2008 Jean Paul Gaultier runway show, but while I've scoured the web for images of all his recent shows, I've been unable to find anything likened to this. Here are some more images I found of Lady Gaga and her signature do!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68PGt-hOmhUwUJaEiut4EVIVKicYxnmni9NjQEudjp56j4UZbwPgD6KG-fUtH2Mt7pG-NdIX6sP7PzvTPY3XPLnSaXdLulZ-W5JsmNWJwOxesPayAF1QsY5N_GXPi4gu5qSpYKD4FYCQ/s1600-h/ladygagaa"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68PGt-hOmhUwUJaEiut4EVIVKicYxnmni9NjQEudjp56j4UZbwPgD6KG-fUtH2Mt7pG-NdIX6sP7PzvTPY3XPLnSaXdLulZ-W5JsmNWJwOxesPayAF1QsY5N_GXPi4gu5qSpYKD4FYCQ/s400/ladygagaa" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296872076657499458" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">tights are not paaaaaaants!!!<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2B3JM9rzNSvkfhygBCnC4NMXw48rD9nzoTRU3hw1Jg0ooc5j0v2Z0JnX_9G5aKGcnO0PyfA26Ep3mZmyyMS0WGKIk-hINi55IFQfS1kY1S1VQjhnu3YxcrkUmGtjK38uLV9n03Dar6E/s1600-h/ladygaga"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 167px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2B3JM9rzNSvkfhygBCnC4NMXw48rD9nzoTRU3hw1Jg0ooc5j0v2Z0JnX_9G5aKGcnO0PyfA26Ep3mZmyyMS0WGKIk-hINi55IFQfS1kY1S1VQjhnu3YxcrkUmGtjK38uLV9n03Dar6E/s400/ladygaga" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296872990843128962" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">LOVING the white jumpsuit!!!<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">I could tell, just from those 2 initial images, that this girl has got it going on! The more I read about her, the more I'm impressed. So who exactly is this Lady Gaga who's got me so worked up? After doing some research, I found that she is an American singer-songwriter and musician, known for her work in the pop/electronica genre. I have to admit, I was rather impressed with <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/ladygagaofficial?blend=1">the 3 music videos I saw</a>. While her songs tend to be about seemingly trivial and superficial subjects like parties, money, and dancing, I found myself truly appreciating the aesthetic quality of the set, costuming, styling, choreography, etc. She says of her 2008 debut album, The Fame...<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">"[It] is about how anyone can feel famous. Pop culture is art. It doesn’t make you cool to hate pop culture, so I embraced it and you hear it all over The Fame. But, it’s a sharable fame. I want to invite you all to the party. I want people to feel a part of this lifestyle."<br /></div></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqDQ3rIoix_fhOc9y9qR0MSuPTm3uCNNaZlRigjI3SDBJvEJ9n6hRV8_CVcMdNBIVc0_hfSKD-9IRk73yFbRrp78oRLpJ3_yXSEW43dkZC3u15YZPXmlDBHaLbonxF4zjwfRx6Up32mQ/s1600-h/ladygaga2"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 237px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqDQ3rIoix_fhOc9y9qR0MSuPTm3uCNNaZlRigjI3SDBJvEJ9n6hRV8_CVcMdNBIVc0_hfSKD-9IRk73yFbRrp78oRLpJ3_yXSEW43dkZC3u15YZPXmlDBHaLbonxF4zjwfRx6Up32mQ/s400/ladygaga2" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296876465521130098" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyEIeMrFJoXP5yKd4ADwzrG7SnV_lv3gxSbSPZ5nGbQ2Ht5Y3FcKaLeG-OmnDmtIPUzSzVwkik3gDY0mNkpQ3Mb95xbvA6l-MktLQ-niZZHZCkdnXs7RpbqSEmAhG27O2MdX5lSb0n0os/s1600-h/ladygagaspike"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyEIeMrFJoXP5yKd4ADwzrG7SnV_lv3gxSbSPZ5nGbQ2Ht5Y3FcKaLeG-OmnDmtIPUzSzVwkik3gDY0mNkpQ3Mb95xbvA6l-MktLQ-niZZHZCkdnXs7RpbqSEmAhG27O2MdX5lSb0n0os/s400/ladygagaspike" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296876605381560450" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br />What great dresses!! I wish I knew who made these!<br />(I prefer the pale Gaga)<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG8IHdswxR8ppj6s0OGaNuOGVzyQ1UDQufGv0Uj5kwFQ6mv5huzS6h_STYDTqexX0UTyI7o_D6HnEkvcSQlRFj9C_gC12PY76GjfYYZXxrq_sNfc8bfBp4x-WrllTcs_CjEl2bQsZNjdk/s1600-h/ladygagastage"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG8IHdswxR8ppj6s0OGaNuOGVzyQ1UDQufGv0Uj5kwFQ6mv5huzS6h_STYDTqexX0UTyI7o_D6HnEkvcSQlRFj9C_gC12PY76GjfYYZXxrq_sNfc8bfBp4x-WrllTcs_CjEl2bQsZNjdk/s400/ladygagastage" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296877908348248194" border="0" /></a><br />Maybe one day I'll get to see her perform live!!! Apparently she's on tour right now in Europe with the Pussy Cat Dolls(another obsession)... if they do a U.S. tour together, I am SO totally there! Hopefully her back-up dancers will wear these sandals... a nice touch, don't you think?Lauren Frances Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15650991975579356596noreply@blogger.com4