Hope, Change, and Rachel Zoe

We have four large, lovely windows in our main living area looking out to the street. We live on the second floor of an old restored building located on a small street in the heart of Grand Rapids. Below us are retail stores, West Coast Coffee is directly under us (which means we can move furniture around a little loudly if they burn our lattes).

I'm pretty sure we can be seen by everyone living on the other side of the street, including the ominous Select Bank offices. And I'm pretty sure there's a bank security camera trained on us too. At least, as far as I can tell it's monitoring the entire street around the bank. And every time I pour myself an orange juice.

It's this view, however, that helps me stay up on my Michigan fashion. Smoking is definitely in. Long down-comforter coats are in. The jeans with white tennis shoes look is definitely everywhere. I can't really say anything too condescending though without noting I practically plan what I'm wearing around what wool socks I have clean. And not much looks exciting with the same darn coat every day either. I hate my coat now. I once adored it. It's even in my new drivers license photo, peaking up around my living-in-an-Austrian-cellar white face. Ug.

But every now and then a beautiful splash of color walks down the sidewalk and I know deep down there's hope. Not everyone here loves a man with a ponytail, or dies* over hunting camouflage jackets (no pun intended). And I'm sure once it's a little warmer, the clothing choices can only get better. Hopefully.


*copyright Rachel Zoe

Tape

I just want you to know, I’m no longer the person I was when writing my first post. At that time, I was totally unaware of how painfully annoying the wrong tape dispenser can be, how hard bubble-wrap is to find in bulk, and how wonderful something called GorillaTape could be.

 
So next time you’re about to pack your entire post-college life into a box, and you’re looking at the TapeGun2000 and thinking hmm, that's just a bit much, don’t ya think, and perhaps snicker under your breath as you imagine the dumb butt who will be drawn in by the steel-tipped tape blade and snazzy comfort grip handle. Well, don't be fooled. You will need this. And I don't mean junior-high-whiny-voice need, I mean more-than-want definite need. Or borrow my tape gun I eventually went back to purchase three minor tape dispenser cuts later.

Namesake

Well, pack up the toys, kids, we’re moving to Michigan.

It’s really way more exciting than it sounds. Michigan. Can’t you just picture an old Indian chief pronouncing it with four very guttural syllables: ME-SHEE-GUY-AN. It’s totally the new thing, moving to Michigan, what with the Big Three thriving as they are and northern accents being so in since Sarah Palin winked at America.

It’s the new frontier—not only for blood-thirsty democrats and terrorist sleeper cells—but for young, hard-working, maybe between 5’8” or 5’11” brunette type people, formally living in Irvine. Oh crap, it’s probably just going to be us then, isn’t it.

No matter, we’ve got summer to look forward to. There’s really nothing more beautiful than Lake Michigan in August, joined to the smaller inland Mona Lake by a man-made channel. As a kid, I always thought it more of a river than a channel, considering it was teaming with thousands of minnows at any given time of the summer. We were known to do some sport fishing on occasion, my sister and I, scooping up unsuspecting minnows by the ton with butterfly nets. And I always did get a kick out of the old strip mall on the shore of Mona Lake, proudly named Mona Kea Mall. That’s a play on Mauna Kea, the tallest volcano on the island of Hawaii for those of you a bit rusty on your Hawaiian geography. See, we’re practically moving to Hawaii. Michigan, Hawaii, Michigan. Totally the same.

But you, you lucky reader you, shall explore this eighth natural wonder that is Michigan all from the comfort of your IKEA desk chair. Stay tuned, it’s about to get a whole lot crazier.