That Time I Auditioned For an HGTV Show

Sorry for the light (to no) posting, but things be crazy up in here. As you may have oh so cannily surmised from my title, I've been a little busy doing things I swore I would never do. Things like trying out for a reality show that involves competing for money on national freaking tv. I must have huffed too much lacquer remover because that's just nuts... right? So, here's the scoop -- I spent a week of my life shooting self portraits and portfolio pictures and filling out MASSIVE ridiculous mountains of paperwork so that I could attend a local HGTV casting call for a house flipping show. Hilarious/not hilarious side story: I was almost done laying out 15 pages of said paperwork drama on a program I don't normally use when I left for literally five seconds and turned around to find Luke standing at my computer, playing it like a piano... 15 pages totally jacked up. Hahahaha kids are so cute. Sort of.

Anyway, head shots happened:

hgtv headshots

What? I didn't tell you that it's a team challenge? The plot thickens. So if we get on the show we have to renovate an entire house with no subcontractors. By ourselves. All of it. This is Matt, he's Karly's husband and he's a contractor. So basically my plan for world domination involves me bossing Matt around while he lays acres of teeny tiny tile in a herringbone pattern all over the walls, floors, stove... anything that will move. I can't wait for him to read this news!

instagram hgtv

So Matt and I head to the casting at a hotel with terrible carpet. I'm not very good at selfies or apparently even at the ubiquitous instagram foot shot, because it looks like I have cankles and there's a big ugly scab with a flashing filtered arrow pointing towards it. But check out that fugly carpet! I have photo priorities.

In between nitpicking the delightful decor we're just sitting there, assessing our competitors. It seems like virtually everyone but me has spent more than five minutes on their (very large) hair and makeup, and I bet nobody else got puked on that morning after arm wrestling a 13 month old all night for four hours of sleep. Other businessy people are setting up installations for clients. We are playing (and winning) iphone physics quiz. Did I mention priorities?

To make a long story short, we waited three hours for a three minute interview. We did our silly dog and pony show, and then we went home.

And got called back.

Fast forward to a couple of days later, when I still have not slept or ironed the tired wrinkles off my face. We are then subjected to an hour long interview under lights and camera with a pair of adorably adorable ladies. I'm pretty sure I aced that shit -- just being honest (I hope). I mean I could always always always do better but I think I interview well thanks to years of teaching and many more years spent talk talk talking at my husband. Meanwhile I have no idea what Matt said because they split us up and interviewed separately for a while... like at a police station. Hopefully he didn't mention the dead bodies.

So that's what's been happening. We should know in October if we will be famous and stuff. Wish us luck!

On another tv front, Little Miss Amy Hadley and her fancy YNN crew (or maybe just Jesse the camera dude) came over Tuesday to film another House Proud segment on rugs. My favorite!!!

austin interior designer

I really wanted to take pictures of our house all blissfully clean and styled up, but I only had 2.2 spare seconds to shoot so this is what you get.

Can you say giant amazing lucite coffee table? Can you say it five times really fast?

Now say, Erin you're not too old to be on tv. Because apparently I have gone from shrinking violet to total fame whore. Soon I will assuredly become insufferable and direct all inquiries to my publicist, so please leave a comment now while you can.

You dudes rule.

 

Scenes From Yesterday

Last night I was so happy to be vomit free that I started writing a jaunty little post in my sleep... something to let you into the window of my delirious experience riding the pale horse. It goes a little something like this.

I woke up Wednesday still feeling pretty out of sorts... kind of exactly like an extra head had sprouted from my Bob Ross mustache.

Facing my fears mustache on, I ate a banana and a party proceeded to throw down in my tummy. But it wasn't really a good party -- it was one of those parties you hit after way too many drinks, only to find all the dudes have herpes and they're serving Mad Dog 20/20 with a splash of coke.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/299606/late-night-with-jimmy-fallon-the-doors-sing-reading-rainbow-theme

Then, inexplicably I began to feel better... way better. Kind of sparkly and full of magic and light. At this point I considered watching Legend on the telly but turned to the trusty net instead. Oh internet, you never fail to amuse me. (worth waiting through the commercial, trust me)

Then I hooked up with Minty, brought to you by the lovely ladies of Atlanta, Susie, Nelya and Jenny. I spent over an hour ogling the wares and plotting another move closer to:

This rug. And Susie's adorable boots.

That INCROYABLE Maitland Smith tesselated console table, those lamps, Jenny's art, the rug... all of it.

And there might be a chair pair that I'm mentally hoarding for myself.

Don't wait until you're weak and sickly to shop like I did. Go to there.

So, that's how my day went yesterday. You can see how very productive I've been (as in not at all), but since I'm actually going to live I think I may need to start planning for the future, which means laundry and Christmas shopping and working.

I'm pretty excited to do those things.

Thankful, even.

I Met Hell and Punched it in the Face

Between moving, suffering through the most hellatious flu EVER, a flooded laundry room, a broken dishwasher, and Better Half Ben's broken back, last week blew chunks. Our little family teetered on the precipice of a sulfurous abyss for days on end, but I'm happy to report that we avoided the gaping maws of hell (except for the dishwasher) and have moved straight into purgatory, an otherwordly waiting room filled with boxes and paper and dirty dishes. It's all good though, because it's QUIET here. And I don't HAVE to do anything. I could stare at these boxes forever... and ever... and ever. Maybe I will. Honestly, it's looking ok at the new house. Tons of projects to complete, and lots of pictures to share as soon as I can clear away the dirty laundry lurking in every corner. We've even mangaged to catch up on some tv, and I'm very glad that we didn't move into this house:

If you're watching American Horror Story, you know what can happen when good real estate goes very bad.

Apparently the Alfred Rosenheim house was for sale in January and it's a stone cold fox, no doubt. Too bad about all the dead people in there.

Yeah, I know It's just a tv show but now I'm going to have to get out my ghostometer (or whatever equipment they use in those dumb movies) and check all the closets and attics in our new house... Cross your fingers and toes and eyeballs that it's dead body free.

Happy Halloween!

[Alfred Rosenheim mansion]