Ceiling Fans from Premier Lighting—Yea or Nay?

by Camille Posted on May 30, 2010

Having lived in both Arizona and Alberta, Canada, I consider myself an expert on international idiosyncrasies.

For example, in Arizona, drivers are (largely) rude and aggressive, while in Alberta, drivers are (overall) courteous—sometimes dangerously so. In Arizona, the percentage of restaurants dominated by the Mexican food market is high, whereas in Alberta, Chinese food reigns supreme. I’m pretty much a cultural anthropologist, see?

Well, today I would like to discuss another difference between Arizona and Alberta: ceiling fans.

I’ve never been to a house in Arizona that doesn’t have at least one ceiling fan; most houses have them in every room. In Alberta, however, a great many homes don’t have any ceiling fans at all—I guess people think they’re unnecessary in the cold, right along with deodorant and flip flops. And most homes that do have ceiling fans only have one or two throughout the entire house. In fact, when Poor Kyle bought our house (before we were engaged), everybody commented how truly unusual it was that there was a ceiling fan in all of the bedrooms and the living room.

In Arizona, ceiling fans are the rule; in Alberta, the exception.

I, however, am an Arizona girl at heart, and therefore will always cling to my passion for ceiling fans. And the thing is, in my house back in Alberta, while I really appreciate that we have all those fans to cool our air condition-less house down on hot summer days, I cannot get over the fact that the fans are really ugly. I mean UGLY. Chosen by the previous homeowners in the height of the ’80s, our black faux-marble (yes, faux MARBLE) fans look like they belong on the set of Screech’s mom’s house on Saved By the Bell.

It’s bad.

Since I am back home in Arizona for the summer, I have been spending my days hanging out with my sister, brainstorming ideas for sprucing up our respective homes (hers in Arizona, mine in Alberta). She already has cute ceiling fans from when they completely overhauled their house a few years back, so she’s golden. But I am in need of some ceiling fan help.

I turned to Premier Lighting’s website, an Arizona-based lighting company which claims to “stock more than anyone in the southwest,” to see what I could see.

Here’s what I found [all images from Shop Premier]:

I thought this beehive-looking fan was nifty, but I figured Poor Kyle would not approve.

This one reminded me of something I would see on the Star Ship Enterprise (is that what it’s called? I have never been a Trekkie, believe it or not). Which, you know, is cool and all, if you plan to live long and prosper. I, myself, anticipate a short life of welfare, so this really doesn’t suit my needs. But it’s still neat.

This fan, called “Cirque,” could not be more appropriately named. Unless it was named “Tomorrowland.” Because that’s what it reminds me of: that big gyrating statue at the entrance to Disneyland’s Tomorrowland. And that’s making me hungry for a giant corndog. Anyway, it’s not my style, but it’s still cool.

Finally I stopped goofing around and narrowed my choices down to two ceiling fans I would actually hang in my house:

Apparently I have kind of a traditional barn-light taste in ceiling fan fixtures. Anyway, I like them.

However, if ceiling fans weren’t my thing—I know many fancy-pants designers turn up their hoity-toity noses at them—or if I was afraid of committing to wiring one to my ceiling, I could always try one of these standing floor fans:


I myself prefer the vintage feel of the above fan, but I cannot deny that the one pictured below is very, very cool:

It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

If you are a fan fan (get it? a fan of fans?), you can head over to Shoppremier.com to see their great options. Or, if you’re not a fan fan, you can leave a comment and try to talk me out of getting new ones for my house. Give it your best shot.

But I’ll warn you: it’ll be a hard sell.

**I was compensated for this post, but that doesn’t change the fact that I had a wonderful time checking out the company and the great many items it had to offer.**

Posted in design, like-it-link-it, the great state of AZ | 12 Comments

Saturday Steals: Dior™ Sunglasses for Free to Me.

by Camille Posted on May 29, 2010

Welcome to Saturday Steals! If you choose to participate this week, write your post and add the link to the list at the end of this post.

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Once upon a time, Poor Kyle and I were not married.

That seems like a lifetime ago. (I’m sure my husband would say the same.) (We are like a couple of old farts and we aren’t even thirty yet.) (But we’re happy.) (For realz.)

Anyway, before we got married, Poor Kyle was rich and frivolous. (Now he’s just poor and frivolous.) (He would argue that he is not poor, but only because he’s in denial. We’re poor.) (I need a job.) (Know anyone who’s hiring?)

So. Pre-marriage. Poor Kyle went with a buddy of his to Las Vegas for a weekend, and while he was there he spent an exorbitant amount of money on a pair of FANCY PANTS Dior™ sunglasses which he really really liked.

Now, one caveat to note is that, for Pre-marriage Poor Kyle, spending $100 on a pair of sunglasses was a steal in itself. His normal, everyday pair of sunglasses cost five times that. As for me, the most I have ever spent on sunglasses (pre-marriage or post or until the day I die for that matter) has been $20. And that was a lot.

Twenty minutes after his big purchase, though, he had his fancy sunglasses resting on the top of his head when he stooped into one of those double-decker tourist buses and bumped his head on a hand bar, inflicting a tiny little ding on the right lens of the sunglasses.

And with that, Poor Kyle deemed them no longer worthy for his patronage. (Snob.)

Five years later, I had married this funny man and bunked up with him. Real classy-like.

In cleaning out the garage last month to make room for George Jettson, I stumbled upon a very fancy-looking pair of sunglasses in an equally-fancy sunglasses case. They were dusty and musty, but really no worse for the wear. Thinking they belonged to one of his ex-girlfriends, I almost smashed them with a monkey wrench from the nearby toolbox, but then I had a thought: WHAT IF THEY LOOKED CUTE ON ME?

I took them inside, dusted off the case, gave the lenses a nice, deep cleaning, and slipped them onto my face.

And I liked them. I mean, was there ever any doubt? They cost one hundred times more than any pair of sunglasses I have ever worn before. I could get used to that.

I liked them a lot. And my fondness for them only increased when I realised they had only ever been worn by Poor Kyle, not by any old hussy he used to date.

Oh, sure, there was still a tiny ding on the right lens of the glasses, but it’s small enough and low enough that if I don’t concentrate too closely on it, I don’t notice it at all. (Anyway, my vision is poor enough that random smudges are really nothing new to my daily line of sight.)

(The next day I took a road trip all by myself and the sunglasses made me feel all sexy-like. Only when I start feeling sexy, the results…well…they aren’t pretty. You can see the outcome here. If you dare. [Watch out, is all I’m sayin’.])

Thanks, Babe. You’re a gem. I married you long before I knew what great sunglasses I would inherit out of the deal, but no doubt it was a great perk for our almost-three-year anniversary.

Even if they are your rejects. They were free (to me).

And I call that a steal.

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So now it’s your turn! Give it your best shot.

Ready?

Go!

Posted in Married Life, Saturday Steals | Tagged | 4 Comments

Tonight, tonight

by Camille Posted on May 28, 2010

Come back tonight for another earth-shattering round of Saturday Steals.

And for the announcement of last week’s winners.

If you don’t have your steal ready, BE THINKING. I want this weekend to be the best ever!

For ideas of what you might Steal and write about, see the breakdown of past Saturday Steals events here.

This has been a public service announcement.

Carry on.

Posted in quickies, Saturday Steals | 1 Comment

When a Man Loves [but Doesn’t Trust] a Woman

by Camille Posted on May 27, 2010

The number one cause of strife within my marriage (besides that irksome Taylor Swift) is when Poor Kyle doesn’t believe me.

I married a very doubtful man. He doubts everything: manufacturers’ promises, the power of exercise, hybrid cars, everything. But especially me.

Case in point:

Back when Poor Kyle and I were discussing whether or not to purchase a new Jetta, it came to our knowledge that a friend of Poor Kyle’s had the kind of car we were looking for and had been considering selling it. I suggested maybe we should ask him first if he wanted to sell it to us before we started looking online or at dealerships, because my beloved Grandpappy always used to say the best deals are closest to home, but NO. PK shut me down instantly:

PK: No, that would be weird.

Me: Why? He might give us a deal.

PK: You can’t get deals from friends. It’s a bad idea.

Me: Okay.

Later, though, we went to see our favourite salesman at our favourite dealership (we like to dream about buying new cars, and incidentally have our very own car salesman who probably hates us because we never buy cars from him, but whatever. Brad rocks.), incidentally the same man who had sold Poor Kyle’s friend the car he is thinking about selling, and watch what happened…

Brad our Volkswagen BFF: Hey, did you think about asking so-and-so about his car? I heard he was looking to sell it.

PK: Really? Hmmm…that’s a good idea. Maybe we will.

Me: (Sputtering) But…but…me…my idea…humph.

Another time, we were looking into buying some acreage here in Mayberry so we could build our dream house before the age of 30 (don’t worry, that idea fell through), and I suggested to Poor Kyle that we make our offer REALLY low, because it never hurts to ask, and once again, I was shot down.

PK: No, we don’t want to offend them.

Me: What do we care if they’re offended? It’s business. At worst, they’ll say “no,” which, you’re right, they probably will. But they COULD say yes, and we never know unless we try…

PK: No.

Me: Okay.

(I tend to give up in the face of confrontation. I’m a quitter. Plus I hate marital dischord. So I just let it fester in my soul until one day Poor Kyle and I can’t decide where to eat for dinner and it all explodes: WHY DO YOU CARE WHERE I WANT TO EAT TONIGHT? YOU NEVER VALUE MY OPINIONS ANYWAY! IT’S A MIRACLE YOU EVEN BELIEVED ME WHEN I SAID I WOULD MARRY YOU! WHICH, COME TO THINK OF IT… No, just kidding.)

Later, though, we were talking to Poor Kyle’s dad about our idea to buy some acreage, and watch what happened…

PK: …so yeah, we’re really excited about it.

PK’s Dad: Okay, well…why don’t you offer X amount (even LOWER than what I had suggested as a low price) and see what happens.

PK: Really? You think? I don’t want to offend anyone.

PK’S Dad: Offend them? What do you care about their feelings? You don’t know them! It’s business!

PK: Yeah, you’re right. Okay, we will give them that insanely low offer. Thanks, Dad, for all your GOOD ADVICE.

Me: (Sputtering) But…but…me…my idea…humph.

I’m not sure if it’s because I’m a woman, or because I’m so much younger than my husband, or because he flat-out thinks of me as a total and utter dodo bird, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t ever trust my ideas, even when they are awesome, which is always.

Someday he’ll see the light.

Maybe not today, and maybe not before it’s too late, but the light will be seen.

Mark my well-chosen words.

Posted in Married Life, oh brother what next, Poor Kyle | Tagged | 13 Comments

Project: Proxy—Shake Weight

by Camille Posted on May 24, 2010

Remember Project: Proxy? That brilliant idea I had, the one where I decided to take on any challenge offered to me, like an internet version of Truth or Dare that’s only ever Dare and I can only ever accept?

Yeah, probably not the high point of my mental acuity.

First I gave up sugar for Lent when I wasn’t even Catholic and I ended up quitting well before Easter.

Failure.

Then I promised to try the gallon challenge and immediate reneged on my oath.

Failure again…sensing a theme? (The theme is a plot and the plot is my life.)

Finally I realised that the entire idea was bad from the start and I just acted like it never happened. Before long, I’d forgotten it ever had. I’m very very good at living in denial—it’s the number one skill on my resumé. (And I wonder why I’m unemployed.)

Unfortunately, forgetting is a fickle friend, and before long I actually forgot to keep forgetting. Which is a really crummy way of saying I’m back in the Project: Proxy saddle.

Back when I announced the Project: Proxy feature here at Archives of Our Lives, the very first suggestion I got from my friend Jacque was to try the Shake Weight.

And I have.

Well, just once. This morning.

But I will be trying it every day for the next two weeks (six minutes a day, as the box promises) to see if it delivers all the muscular tonage it claims.

I’ll start with before photos and measurements, and change nothing in my diet or daily exercise regimen—except for the addition of the Shake Weight workout, of course.

And at the end of two weeks…

…we shall see.

I’m taking bets: anyone think it will work? Anyone have experience with the contraption?

Let the games commence.

Posted in health and vitality, oh brother what next, Project: Proxy | Tagged | 9 Comments

Extra

by Camille Posted on May 23, 2010

Being back in Arizona has not been good for me.

I have been snippy and irritable and altogether unpleasant pretty much since the day I got here.

What’s the matter with me? All semester I wanted nothing more than for school to be done so I could be free to visit family down south, and now that I’m here, I feel so…

…well, how is it that I feel, exactly?

Let’s assess:

-I am not doing much good here.

-I am spending money and earning none.

-I am staying up too late and waking up too early, which is making me tired and grouchy and, like I said, altogether unpleasant.

-I’m eating too much.

-My face is greasy more often than not because showering and washing one’s face is tedious on a normal day, but much more so on vacation.

-I’m getting uglier.

-I have fallen out of motivation to get any good posts written.

-I feel like I should be doing more.

-I feel like a third (or fourth, or fifth) wheel.

-I feel extra. Expendable.

And I’m not sure what to do about it. I thought about packing back up and going back home, but quite frankly, I’m confused about where home is for me right now. I mean, I am home. But I’m not. Plus, I think my leaving three weeks early would make a couple people pretty cranky. Not many, but a few.

In other news, I might get to see my husband again this week. So that’s always good. Kyle puts the “fun” in my “funny;” he is the “awe” to my “some.” Maybe he can help me know what to do with my life.

Until then, any suggestions?

(p.s. Stay tuned for an exciting rebound of Project: Proxy tomorrow. It’s gonna be good.)

Posted in failures, mediocrity, mondays suck | 13 Comments

Saturday Steals: Free Advice

by Camille Posted on May 21, 2010

Welcome to another titillating round of Saturday Steals!

Before we fully begin, I would like to take a moment for a little bit of housekeeping. It has come to my attention that some readers who are interested in participating in Saturday Steals feel hindered by the fact that they don’t know how to participate in Saturday Steals. For more in-depth information, you can read this post. But for a brief overview, continue reading:

Step 1: Find a steal. A steal is defined (by me) as any object worth more to a person (either monetarily or emotionally) than they actually had to pay for it. This could be a beloved quilt or an awesome vintage thrift store dress, or anything else imaginable. It doesn’t have to be recent, it just has to be a steal. (For a complete list of former Saturday Steals, click here.)

Step 2: Write a post on your own blog about your steal.

Step 3: Within said post, it is an unspoken (except now I’m speaking it, so awkward) courtesy to link back to my blog, not only because it helps all your readers find my blog, but it also helps them see what other steals are out there. Hopefully, the more your readers follow Saturday Steals, the more participants we will have every week.

Step 3.5: You are also welcome to copy the above Saturday Steals image and add it to your own post as a badge of honour for participating.

Step 4: When your post is written, come back to MY Saturday Steals post for the week and add your link at the bottom of the post.

Step 5: Sit back and enjoy clicking on all the other steals of the week.

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All right. With that out of the way, we can get on to the real juice of the post: the steal.

A few weeks ago, I drove from Southern Alberta, Canada, to Mesa, Arizona all by my lonesome. It was a great experience; I enjoy making that trip by myself every summer (when possible).

It took me 23 hours of driving time—split into two days—to make it here. At times my eyes got blurry. At times my bum got numb. At times my head felt so heavy on my twerpy little neck that I thought surely it was squishing my spine and that I was becoming more of a hunchback with every passing mile.

But at other times, George Jettson and I passed long convoys of semi trucks on twisty mountain roads with nothing but a prayer and a gas (diesel) pedal. And I came within inches of hitting more than one daring bird. And I actually did run over a few lizards in Nevada. My heart stopped and promptly lurched ahead, making up for lost beats. I was frightened half to death and exhilarated all at the same time.

When at last I made it to my home of 21 years, I walked in to a roomful of family delighted to see me, including but not limited to a grandmother whose voice rises an entire octave when she sees me because now that I’ve moved to Canada I am exciting to have around when I’m back home. (Incidentally, nothing has made me feel more loved and appreciated than family who misses me so dreadfully when I’m gone that they drop everything just to hang out with me when I’m back. I guess there’s more than one way to feel validated in life. I chose moving to the barren nether regions of Canada.)

The first night of my arrival, I was lounging on my parent’s love seat when I noticed a stash of fortune cookies in a basket just within my reach. I don’t really like fortune cookies to eat (though I always do eat mine because I also don’t like wasting perfectly good food), but something about the prolific basket beckoned to me. Without much thought, I reached out and swiped a cookie, snipping open the plastic wrapper with my canine incisor and slipping out the wafer-like cookie in one smooth motion. (For someone who claims not to like fortune cookies, I’m certainly a pro at eating them.)

I cracked open the cookie, pulled out my fortune, and—no lie—gasped when I saw what it read:

“Travelling to the south will bring you unexpected happiness.”

Now, I am not superstitious, except for the times when I am, and friends? I BELIEVE.

I mean, seriously? Seriously. I was meant to read that cookie.

My only beef with this fortune is that the word “unexpected” is not altogether appropriate. I mean, I fully expect to have the grandest of times while here in the south, to fulfill every bit of happiness I set out to find. So I don’t know how unexpected it will be when indeed those expectations are met. I mean, unless destiny has secretly worked out an amazing plan for me to be discovered by an agent (film or publishing, I could be happy either way [wink]) while I’m down south for the summer, I don’t think any joy that comes my way will be unexpected.

Especially now that my fortune cookie tipped me off.  I’m totally on the lookout for secret, hidden happiness. Bad on ya, Fate.

But whatever.

It was free. And it meant a lot to me.

And thus it was a steal.

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So now it’s your turn! What did you steal this week? How much did it cost you? Where did you find it? Write a post and add the hyperlink to the link list below. The list is open starting now all the way to Sunday at 11:59 Arizona time (whatever that is, DIE, YOU LOATHESOME INTERNATIONAL DATELINE).

p.s. There will be a prize for a randomly-selected Saturday Stealer this week.

Posted in It's All Good, on the road again, Saturday Steals, self-actualisation, the great state of AZ, Travel | Tagged | 2 Comments