For two years I’ve sighed with great envy (yes, great envy) reading other bloggers accounts of the National Stationary Show. There it was, right here in New York City, and I was shut out, a mere wishful blogger, and not an “industry insider”.

NO MORE, my friends. No more. This year Amber was going to the NSS.

Ok, I know. It’s not that exciting. But it totally was for me. I walked into the Javitz center the angels went “Ahhh!”

There are three pages of notes, stacks of cards and a handful of press kits to go through. My desk has literally become infested with pretty paper. I’m not going to do any major, in-depth coverage of it because there are so many others who are doing that way better than I could, but I will be highlighting the handful of beautiful, wonderful things I’m really excited about, both here and over at the Sideshow

The experience was new and I might not have done it “right”, for instance, I felt pretty awkward asking to take photos. I had my camera, but I just couldn’t bring myself to ask. I figured websites would have better photos anyway, but in retrospect, I think I’d rather have my own shots. Lesson learned for next year.

Winning the award for the nicest person in a booth (because in the end, it’s all about the humanity for me) is La Familia Green. This husband/wife duo makes cards, some out of cut paper and some that are printed.

“Who would buy an ‘I love Michele Obama’ card?” I asked.

He shrugged. “You’d be surprised. Who would buy a ‘James Franco, you’re so dreamy’ card? But people do.”

I started to laugh. “I know exactly who I’d buy that one for!”

“See,” he said. “There you go.”

They also had a card that featured their beloved Stickers. It read, “Hooray for rescue dogs!”, which I imagine you would send to someone who has acquired a new dog via adoption. Clearly, these are my kind of people.

*update: here are Rob’s photos, too.*

What? You thought I was kidding? Our friend Wesley came up to New York for the weekend, and he took his pants off on the subway, too. (Fun aside: He owns withoutpants.com.) This year, they had somewhere from 1200 to 1500 other people show up to shock innocent subway riders with visions of seemingly normal commuters who had forgotten their pants. One woman nudged her husband to tell him that someone was dropping trou a few feet away, and then she caught my eye like, “Do you see this guy?! He just took his pants off and is standing there in his underwear! On the subway!”

“Oh. My. GOD!” I mouthed back at her, and we shook our heads at him for a second… and then I took my own pants off and winked at her. On many subway platforms, pantsless riders vastly outnumbered riders with pants. We all pretended that nothing unusual was going on. On opposite platforms people pointed, laughed and took photos. I think we made New York City a little happier on Saturday. Underwear is fun.

There were three official photographers, and these are their flickr sets. If you look closely, you can find me, Rob and Wesley in our underpants, dancing in the snow.

Brian Fountain
Ari Scott
Katie Sokoler

Tomorrow I am riding the subway in my underpants. I encourage you to join me. It’ll be cold, but fun. There will be pictures. Email me if you’re keen on joining. It won’t be the same with out you.

Happy Weekend!

I am so sick.

New Years eve, in the morning, I slipped on my bathing suit for the last time in a long time, threw on a gauzy skirt and tank top over it, and padded down to breakfast with the family in my flip-flops. Afterward I slathered myself with sunscreen and collapsed into a chair poolside in the hot sun, trying to soak as much of it in before I went back to New York, and the cold, and the snow. I went swimming with Rob’s super adorable nine year old nephew and his mom, and floated around on a blow up raft with my feet dangling in the water.

It took forever for our plane to pull up to the gate, and forever to get our bags and forever to get to our car. By the time midnight came around, we were almost home, and we listened to the countdown on the radio. Rob pulled over on the deserted side street, and we kissed quickly, said “Happy New Year!”, and continued on.

The dogs jumped all over us and we kissed and patted them all hello. It was a few minutes before either of us realized something was off: the furnace. The thermostat read 49 degrees, although the heat was set to 70. We called the landlord, the super and 311, but no help came until the morning. It was, literally, a “three dog night”, with the five of us huddled together as the temperature in our bedroom dropped even further.

We waited for hours the next day while they tried to fix it before we gave up and packed everyone up to go to Rob’s parent’s house. We eventually got a phone call saying it was all done and the heat was working again. We waited until after dinner to give it a chance to warm up and then drove home again. We we arrived, it was as cold as ever and the furnace still wouldn’t kick on.

“We’ll be back in the morning” we were told. “Something must have gone wrong.”

Yeah, no kidding.

“I can’t spend another night in this cold!” Rob declared, and I agreed. We packed up again and drove the hour back to Rob’s parent’s house, and the next morning, it was finally warm in our apartment.

Now we are so, so sick. Rob spent most of Friday laying in bed, full-on miserable, while I slumped on the couch feeling “not so great”, but ok. Carissa had come over to collect her stuff from house sitting, and we watched movies. Saturday I couldn’t get up until well after the sun had gone down again. I spent the day mostly awake, reading, and, at one point, getting attacked by a giant house fly that had survived January by living in my bedroom. He was HUGE, and he wasn’t going down without a fight. It was horrible. He kept flying into my face, and tried to steal my sandwich.

We have mice, too. I saw them, and not a “glimpse” of a mouse either; I stood by my stove and watched them boldly play on top of the burners and dirty plates and cups: their own mousey jungle gym. They didn’t notice me if I didn’t move, so I stood quite close to the stove, and watched them for a while. If they weren’t infesting my house with their mouseness, I would think that they are pretty cute.

I tried to set traps for them involving complicated series of wooden spoons, boxes, trap doors, cardboard tubes and soda bottle caps, but nothing worked and I kept being outsmarted. The score currently stands Mice: 2, Amber and Rob: 0 (call me a granola hippie douche bag if you want, but I’m not breaking their necks with normal traps). We’ll keep trying. When I catch them, I have plans to insert them exactly where they belong in the Circle of Life: I’m giving them to Bra the cat. Bra is pretty cool. He has gone from running away at the mere sight of me to scurrying out of the way cautiously and watching me from a distance, to not moving at all as I brush by, to letting me stand near and look at him from a few feet, to cautiously sniffing my outstretched hand, to letting me pet him with one finger behind an ear, gently, and just for a second before he gets too scared. We’re growing fond of one another.

100 DAYS LEFT!

Last year I wanted to buy one of these for Jen, but they kept selling out.  They would add more to their Etsy shop and they would instantly get all sold out again.  I finally got my hands on one after four rounds of trying.  They are THAT beautiful, and every year the demand for these things keeps growing.

No wonder.

They are printed using a combination of silkscreening and letterpress, and the results are so, so beautiful.

They are also donating part of the sale to SODAmoon, an organization that enhances the lives of disabled adults.  There is also mention on the website of donating some of the profits to orphans in Thailand.

Click here to buy them, if and when more become available.