Years of Clinique leads to quite a collection of Gift-With-Purchase makeup bags -- too many, and yet all too small to store the large quantities of lipstick bought to enable these GWPs in the first place. But we can't just trow away a nice floral-print PVC zippered pouch, so until now they've sat in a drawer in the closet. Le sigh.

Until now! Now I have discovered the wonder of swapping on Makeupalley. The site, which I used previously for user reviews, hosts a forum where ladies to trade lipgloss for lipgloss, shampoo for scrub, and four samples of MAC pigment for -- yes -- my useless little make-up bags. Useless to me, but an excellent find for Irony26 from Sublimity, OR, who apparently has a multitude of craft supplies to organize.

Over the last two weeks, I've received lipsticks, gloss, polish, and a bevy of "extras" -- it's standard, though not obligatory, to toss in a teeny sample or other free/cheapo bit of beauty with your swap.

I've also become a post office expert. Wednesday, I helped a woman with limited English and complete lack of USPS knowledge mail her Comcast bill, then explained the APC to a thoroughly mesmerized woman. (The APC, for you novices, is the Automatic Postal Center for weighing packages and printing lables. I highly recommend.)

Brian seemed skeptical -- and frankly, it's a little weird not knowing exactly where this gloss passed between Dior and my doorstep. But most people list (hopefully honestly) whether a product has been used, and every user receives reviews and positive or negative 'tokens' after a swap. So far, all my brand new friends have sent things in excellent condition. I can't imagine much greater rick here than sampling my way through Sephora on a busy Saturday.

And the benefits are excellent: swapping is like online shopping, except you only pay shipping. I get to tidy my stash, test brands I don't normally buy, and receive fun little packages of fun in mail. I also like to think we're helping the environment a bit by reusing and recycling. Al Gore would certainly be proud.

Wedding dress shopping

A second and longer round of wedding gown shopping last weekend with The Kennedys. (I must falsely allude that I know a great political family before she changes her name.)

A rare combination of emotion and business, romance and critical judgement, anticipation and leisure. I can see how the many very personal factors influencing this decision could make it a very trying shopping-spree. But Melissa shuffled through ruched and bedazzled dresses decisively, narrowing the piles down to four favorites over the course of three stores. No one sobbed, no one complained that they looked too fat or too thin, no one tried to sell us extra tulle or imported sequins.

Also fortunately, Melissa would look good in pretty much anything, and she picked fairly classic, flattering shapes. It wasn't hard to agree with her choices. There's a decent amount of variety in the gowns, but for the most part they're white, shimmery, and designed to flatter the female figure. The business of weighing pros and cons in this homogenous group sort of tempers the romance.

Not quite so with the bridesmaid dresses. We also visited a bridal party store, and while I wouldn't call the process romantic it was certainly more varied. The tone of the dressing room was almost frantic, outside neat rows of dresses ravaged by clusters of excited ladies. You could hear cameras zooming and clicking through the velvet dressing room drapes.

As the other bridesmaids are in Texas, Manhattan, Egypt, and California, respectively, I was the lucky first to lady try on and influence dress selection. Strapless is good.

When is Brian's turn in the dressing room? I asked Melissa about the groomsmen's clothing, and she waved a hand dismissively and said, "That's all Nate's job!" So possibly I will be in taffeta and he will be in flipflops ...

Though they were within walking distance of work, I first heard of Fran's salted caramels on NPR - where else? I wasn't sure if they sounded gimmicky or legitimately gourmet, but who really cares if they're delicious? I eventually bought a small package as a present for who-remembers-anymore, and ate them half-at-a-time over the course of a week or so. Supreme deliciousness confirmed.

And now, I think, vague gimmickiness has given way to full Seattle food trend. New ice cream shop Molly Moon's in Wallingford: salted caramel ice cream. New Belltown seafood restaurant Banzino: salted caramel semifreddo (which apparently means semi-frozen, as in half-frozen custard or ice-cream cake).

It could be wonderful to experience this combination as a river of sugary decadence running through the city -- salted caramel barbecue sauce, salted caramel frappuccino -- but my inkling is this flavor is best in moderation. Though the basic pairing of sugar and salt is no shock (hello Chex mix and honey-roasted nuts), this particular execution is almost overwhelming-- hence the rare experience of those four candies lasting a full week.

Both Net-A-Porter and Anthropologie have advertised a butterfly trend this spring.

Really? Butterflies? Good in nature, not across my body. But maybe I'm too close to elementary school to appreciate this very precious motif.

Nine West has a new sandal called Raven. Unfortuantely, it is neither interesting nor particularly attractive, and looks uncomfortable. I think I speak for most Ravens everywhere when I say I'm disappointed.

Wonderful weekend! Full of activities that made life feel like summer. It may go back to grey skies and drizzle, but I know with the certainty of spring-quarter finals week that summer is almost here.

Hike: After my walk with Buster (previous post), Melissa picked Brian and me up for a hike at Twin Falls. Not too far away, too long, or too strenuous. I could've been better prepared (no water bottle at home, no good food for packed lunch, and sunscreen was running out), but I think it was excellent practice for at least a couple hikes this summer.

Melissa had hoped for a bigger group of friends, but I think it was kind of nice just the three of us. None of us are super talkative, so while there was pretty consistant conversation, there was no compulsive chatter to detract from the experience of nature and exercise. The well-trodden trail follows some smallish but rushing river upstream, with a number of spots that gave interesting views of a pretty amazing waterfall -- larger than most of the falls I've seen in our region. Hiking doesn't entertain me like an excellent book or play, but it gives such a good, productive enjoyment.

Dinner: I was somehow still restless in the evening, so when we decided on burgers for dinner, I walked to PCC for supplies. Fremont's not far, but I haven't walked before and it's a good distance: I wouldn't do it every day, but definitely managable in nice weather.

We've been grilling regularly since spring weather arrived, but we've never done burgers. Although I underestimated the saltiness of Johnny's (the only seasoning I used, in my lazy mood), they were pretty fantastic. Also grilled corn on the cobb, one of my favorite vegetables -- it was perfect sweet white corn, totally unstarchy.

I also picked up a cheapo bottle of Gruener Veltliner, which was featured on The Splendid Table. Haven't opened it yet, but I'm excited to try it.

Reading Vogue in the sun: Woke up early and had a couple hours before our brunch reservation at Tilth, so I went to our teeny patio with some Talking Rain, big sunglassses, and the latest issue of Vogue. I just flipped through the photo spread and only really read the feature on Sex and The City: The Movie, but I must've been more enthralled than I realized, because I picked up a little sunburn from my short-sleeves down. As much as I fear skin cancer and excessive freckles, I'll have to go sleeveless soon to even it out.

Brunch: Dinner is almost certainly the most creative time for meals, but I don't think food can be more satisfying than at breakfast. And Tilth is probably the best-reviewed restaurant in the city, at least in expert opinions (see: NY Times top 10). Surprisingly empty, especially after they refused to add 2 to our reservation, and service was very nice but slow. But, we weren't there to count empty tables or chat with the server -- we were there to eat.

I expect explicitly local and organic food to showcase very natural (ie: sparingly-seasoned) and seasonal flavors. My Grand Mariner french toast was delicious, not excessively heavy, but as sugarly as dessery. Brian and Nate had biscuits and chicken + gravy that was even saltier than normal gravy, and an menu option for warm weather. And the curd with Melissa's scone: described as "like pie filling" by our waitress.

Overall: good, will definitly go back for breakfast (esp as the menu changes seasonally), but
it all seemed a bit less refined than I espected.

Finally, Seattle Cheese Festival: This is what Bite of Seattle should be. Except with more than cheese. 2/3 of the way through, I discovered that there is, in fact, a limit to how much cheese I can eat.

It's already one of the most beautiful days of the year!

I woke up a bit after 6, gave Buster a fresh haircut for springtime, and we went to Gasworks.

It was early enough to be mostly vacant; a single runner sitting on a bench, a young woman reading, two sets of boys engaged in some sort of fighting practice in a paved corner of the park. We ran through the wet grass and sniffed the flowers and ate a pocketful of dog treats. We stood on the edge of the bricked look-out space, traced the curve of the city with appreciative and authoritative gaze, and felt that this was out city, our landscape, out park. The waters ripple for us, the trees bloom and the gleaming towers erect themselves because we are here to watch.

At home, while I made checked my email, Buster stood on the coffee table for a minute, surveying the living room.