Vintage Hollywood Blvd…

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The Hollywood walk of fame was created in 1953, with the original idea for creating a  Walk as a means to “maintain the glory of a community whose name means glamour and excitement in the four corners of the world.” Today my girlfriends and I enjoyed the vintage billboards that are still there today,  to remind us of the classic movie greats such as Peter Lorre and Alfred Hitchcock.  I felt like Alfred and Peter were right there staring at us ! Old Hollywood fun and glamor.  A great day of shopping, talking and eating all along Hollywood  Blvd.  I wore my vintage 1960′s hat, my vintage 1980′s coat and my vintage 1980′s boots.

Rudy Rose…

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Our trip to San Luis Obispo was simply amazing. We walked around this wonderful town for five days and I did a lot of shopping. On one of my trips I was able to visit a store I had seen on a blog, Ruby Rose. This little shop is off the beaten path but so worth your time to find . What a wonderful eclectic shop full of vintage finds, clothes and decor .  This shop had a wonderful surprise around every corner. I loved here very eclectic clothes and her row of  cowboy boots were so cool. I was delighted to meet the owner of this shop and talk about her fun finds. She does a lot of her shopping the same places I do in west Hollywood, and our vintage styles were very similar. I picked up some vintage embellishments for my jean jackets. If you’re in this wonderful  little town make sure you stop by and visit her wonderful shop.

Have a great weekend shopping !

Open Wednesday -Saturday by appointment or by chance

1335 Walker Street

San Luis Obispo, Ca. 93401

Happy, Successful and Fit !

 

joe-sandbag-milwaukee

 

I love this book, and I was one of the 1st to read it and review it, Thanks to  Dan Krueger  who was nice enough to send me a copy. You can pre-order this great book too , from my blog page below. I hope everyone takes the time to order and read this inspirational book, and soon you will be Happy, Successful and Fit !

 ” THE SPARTAN AUTHORS
Joseph DeSena
I’m the driving force behind and the living embodiment of the Spartan Race, the
sports and fitness juggernaut described in this proposal. I built a number of
successful businesses, starting in fireworks at 13, moving onto pool cleaning, and
eventually landing on Wall Street. I also became a legend in endurance and
adventure racing circles based on accomplishments I’ve already outlined. Spartan
Race merges those two obsessions of my life. To learn more about me, my races and
the amazing people who have been transformed by them, check out
spartanrace.com and spartanrace.tv.

Jeff O’Connell
I am editor-in-chief at Bodybuilding.com, the Internet’s largest fitness site. I was
formerly editor-in-chief at Muscle & Fitness and executive writer at Men’s Health. My
feature writing has been cited in both the Best American Sports Writing and Best
American Science and Nature Writing anthologies. I have coauthored four books,
including LL Cool J’s Platinum Workout, which became a New York Times bestseller,
and Formula 50, with 50 Cent. Hyperion Books published my first solo work, Sugar
Nation, in July 2011. “

                          Book Synopsis: BookSpartanUpSynopsis.pdf

 Order the book here from the website : http://spartanupthebook.com

Have a wonderful  week

xoxo Cheryl

In Love with Siena Italy…

In Love with Siena Italy...

It was love at 1st sight when we took a trip to the beautiful hilltop town of Siena. I wore a causal pink sweater and a pink tee-shirt and a black skirt. I remember walking along the rocky streets in heels, but I didn’t care. One of the most romantic days that I can remember, and it seems just like yesterday. I wore my vintage 1980′s skirt and my vintage 1980′s boots.

Hope everyone has a simply romantic week ! xoxo

The Raven…

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -

Only this, and nothing more.’Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; – vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

oct 2113 034And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,’

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,’ said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you’ – here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

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Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!’
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!’
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,’ said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!’

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Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

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Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,’ I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

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Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,’ said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of “Never-nevermore.”‘

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.’

 

IMG_0436This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,’ I cried, `thy God hath lent thee – by these angels he has sent thee
Respite – respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

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Prophet!’ said I, `thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us – by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!’ I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! – quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!’
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

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And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!

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vertical space[First published in 1845]

by Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe; January 19, 1809 – October 7, 1849) was an American author, poet, editor and literary critic, considered part of the American Romantic Movement. Best known for his tales of mystery and the macabre, Poe was one of the earliest American practitioners of the short story and is considered the inventor of the detective fiction genre. He is further credited with contributing to the emerging genre of science fiction.

Thanks to all who came .

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