Category Archives: In Love With

In Love With: Symphony in the Key of AL

Sometimes, what a person needs to feel right with the world is a little class, even if you have to fake it. I get my class courtesy of my friend Amanda, who works in the offices of the Alabama Symphony Orchestra (ASO). She knows I’m a classical music lover who never actually gets around to seeing the symphony unless someone hands me tickets. She has volunteered me for service (with the promise of sneaking in the back of the theater later) a few times now, and it’s thanks to her that I’ve been to as many ASO events as I have this year. So this week’s list is my three favorite things about the ASO: people watching, Maestro Justin Brown, and the recent New Year’s concert at the Alabama Theatre.

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In Love With: Dive Bars

After last week’s overly frilly post, I feel the need to redeem what indie cred I have (which isn’t much, perhaps why I’m defensive about it). Thus, let me indulge the flip side of my girly-girl nature, don my combat boots, and hit my favorite dive bars.

There is an art to the dive bar. It must be dingy, but not depressing. It must have “denizens” rather than customers-and there must be a usual roster of suspects on any given night. It must come by its reputation organically, not manufactured to “feel” urban or crusty. It must be the sort of place you have to think twice about taking parents, visitors to the city, and first dates, lest they re-evaluate their opinions of you and your drinking habits. And lastly, it must have a bathroom that tries to achieve some standards of cleanliness, since that is the sign of honest pride in one’s establishment. If they’ve given up trying to tame the bathrooms, folks, they’ve given up the ghost on a lot of things. So the top three on my In Love With list are (in order of frequency of visits): Five Points’ Upside Down Plaza, Irondale’s Bourbon Street, and Avondale’s Brown Derby.

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In Love With: Unabashed Femininity

I go a little stir-crazy this time of year, when the holidays have been filed as blurry memories and spring seems like a distant dream. I’m tired of layering bulky sweaters until I look like the StayPuft Marshmallow man, sick of static electricity, and done with the dry skin and splitting hands. The only recourse I’ve discovered is to dose myself well with unabashed femininity and wait it out.The first step is visiting Three Sheets in Homewood. This bastion of domesticity is crammed with lovely bedroom and bathroom things to touch, smell and try out. More often as not, I end up treating myself to a bath oil or fizzy bathbomb, since the beddings are too far out of my price range to do anything but caress. In the early stages of winter-ick, just a short visit, and maybe a Deep Steep lotion, is enough to pry me out of it.

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