10AM and ready for a nap (oh my god, getting them out of the house, oh my god).

I spent the last three days in a house populated by four children, all of whom are equal parts lovely and awful, depending on the hour of the day and whether everyone can agree on the rules for playing "Hungry, Hungry Hippos" (spoiler: nobody can agree on the rules for playing "Hungry, Hungry Hippos," despite the fact that you'd think the game would be rather self-explanatory).

My friend Erin came down to visit from San Jose with her kids - who are my kids' best friends, and also, from time to time, their mortal enemies, as is par for the course for these kinds of almost sibling-like relationships - and it was...

via

...So that I don't kill my father before we've even begun our 4,000 hour transcontinental flight. ...Please?

Because he is currently doing the Dad Thing where he sends me article after article after article on Ten Things To Do In X Location!, and for whatever reason this is making me react like a bratty 16-year-old (UGH DAAAAAAAD), and I literally cannot make myself read the articles, but he will not stop sending them to me. (I'm also super conflicted about the trip full-stop, which doesn't help.)

Current favorite food: Sugarfish. Current favorite place to eat it: In bed. Current favorite thing to wear while eating it: these legging-pants and this sweater.

Shockingly, all I could think when I read this article was, "Oooooooh." Apparently I'm a displaced Park Slope mom. (The New Mom Uniform of Park Slope, via NYTimes.)

Current obsession: Laura Ashley pillows (and sheets, and throws). Allllll the pretty, feminine florals.

When I was a teenager, I more or less lived at the Salvation Army on West 46th Street. (As an aside, if you've never been, you MUST go if you ever find yourself in the city; it's four entire floors of some of the best thrifting anywhere on the planet - furniture included). In more recent years, I've pretty much put my love of thrift stores on ice, largely because one thing thrifting does require is time...and that just so happens to be a thing that small children aren't hugely interested in letting you have when you are doing something like shopping for things that aren't toys.

But here's a fun little factoid about thrift stores: If you find one in a fancy area, you GO. Because fancy people do things like give their old Gucci purses to Goodwill, because they can't be bothered to list them on TheRealReal (even though they should). So when a friend told me how spectacular the thrifting is over in Thousand Oaks - about twenty minutes away from me in the direction of the water, a.k.a. in the direction of much, much more expensive housing prices per square foot - I suddenly found myself Marie Kondo-ing my kids' rooms.

You know, because once I had all my bags filled with stuff to donate, I'd have to make my way over to the Thousand Oaks Goodwill. It's really the only responsible thing to do. And once I was there, I had to just pop in, just for a minute. (And just saying: Goodwill is a great organization that does tons and tons to support local communities; they're worth both your donations and your shopping dollars.)

Me at yesterday's Noritake shoot (I ate my props after taking this pic). 

I learned about three things over the past twenty-four hours, and you should know about all of them. (Two of them I learned about from Francesca; #creditwhereitsdue.)

OK, so yesterday at about 4PM I had just wrapped the shoot above, and was happily ensconced in my office (my bed), wearing a chic little outfit (ancient pajamas) and eating a heart-healthy snack (leftover Buttercrunch Christmas Popcorn), when Francesca called and told me that I needed to come over. I protested that I was busy (watching Netflix). And besides, it was RAINING. People who live in Los Angeles do not drive to friends' places when it rains; they barricade themselves in their houses and panic.