And just like that

So many things are happening lately. We're planning our trip to Georgia in July, and a friends camping trip sometime soon. Mike was offered and accepted a teaching position in Eastern Mass, and all of the anxiety I didn't realize I'd been feeling about that transition has faded away. We spent last weekend in Charlestown, RI, at Burlingame State Park pitching tents, building fires, roasting s'mores, and swimming in lakes (well, just one, but I was on a roll). We saw fireflies, one of the main things I miss about the south. Boston has penciled in Summer for tomorrow and Thursday with 90 degree temperatures, just in time for our very first kickball game.

I've started rereading East of Eden and am noticing so much more than the first time round. Something about reading in the summertime makes me feel whole, like something's come full circle. It's like waking up after an afternoon nap (the good kind) and realizing you still have a whole half day ahead of you. Or coming back from a weekend away and it's still light out and not yet dinnertime.

I loved camping with Mike. It brought back so many memories of camping with my family when I was a kid, swimming in the lake (they're much warmer in Georgia) and falling dead asleep at the end of the day. It was nice to share that with Mike. I'm getting excited to have him home full time come Friday, excited to see how our relationship will change and grow, how our time together will not be so regimented, but fluid and natural. I'm excited for the amount of time I've spent with friends that past few weeks, the ease with which the change has come about. We're all crawling out of our winter selves, stretching in the light of the sun and the company of one another.

In Inman again.

What a good weekend. I made the drive down to Philly Friday night with Katharine and Nate in tow. Driving through New York is lowest on my list of things I want to do again. It was hot in Philly, but we survived with frozen mango and frozen yogurt and lots of stops into air conditioned record stores. We finally made it to Barcade after an incredible dinner (and soft serve!) at Frankford Hall, a beautiful bar with ping pong and foosball tables, a s'mores pit, and plenty of outdoor seating. It was in a reclaimed mill or something with lots of brick.

We lounged in our sweat in Rittenhouse, saw some fireworks on the sidewalk, and had those kinds of conversations that last all day. I got to see my friend Kate who lives much too far away and was reminded of the way it feels for nothing to feel different after so much time. There was karaoke, and even though we were too late to sign up, we made up for it with picklebacks and singing Garth Brooks and Fun. loud from the crowd. KMo and I danced like we were in college again, which reminded me you don't have to be in college to dance like that.

Oh, yeah, and there was a Twin Peaks brunch, which explains some of the photos above. I crocheted my own mustache and was proud to call the Log Lady my main man.

Before I leave you.

I have about an hour and a half left of this work day, then it's the open road to Philly (as open as it can be around quittin' time on a Friday before a three-day weekend). I read somewhere that for introverts, social excursions can be draining, whereas extroverts feel recharged after socializing. Sometimes, for me, this is very true. When I look ahead to a month whose weekends are packed full of events and trips away from home, I feel a little overwhelmed. I look ahead even further to the next weekend I have with no plans, with time I can spend at home doing whatever I want. But these past couple weeks I've been needing to get away, not necessarily out of Boston, but I've been feeling the urge to interact, to be present in the outside world. I went into the office yesterday for the first Thursday in a long time (Thursday's the token work from home day), and it felt good. I've had so much motivation to be up and awake and out there. 

I think one of the changes in my attitude has been my reconnection with old friends lately. From seeing Cyndi in DC to a new email chain where each of us contributes weekly-ish a list of things we're grateful for. It's simple, but it's so refreshing to see these people's names in my inbox on a regular basis, to know the little details about their lives, like what their plans are this weekend, what books they're listening to or reading (whether they're listening to books or reading them!), and what songs their spin class is playing. It's great on days like today when I have to limit my grateful list to eight or ten things, but it's especially helpful on the rotten days. It's those days when I need a grateful list email chain to remind me that, even then, blessings abound. 

Today I'm particularly thankful for a three-day weekend ahead of me, a full belly, and friends in so many nooks of this world that I get to visit.  

Trip to DC: Friday

Never too old for toys!

You will be arrested immediately if you sit on Abe's lap, so Cyndi and I climbed up there and just hovered. 

Cyndi's a pretty amazing photographer. 

Cyndi's favorite kitchen utensil: Her fingers. 

It seems the things we anticipate the most go by the fastest. Mike and I scored some cheap toy cameras on Wednesday, and I packed the single lens Holga and headed on late Thursday night. After a strange night of back pain, an overzealous bus driver who referred to everyone on the bus as her family (i.e., "How's my family doing?" over the intercom at 2 am, 3 am, 4 am when she stopped at a Dunkin Donuts in the Bronx), and watching the sun rise from the top of a double-decker, it was a sweet reunion with hungover Cyndi at Union Station. She was dressed to the nines in some basketball shorts, t-shirt, and a cardigan. And thus began our classy weekend. 

I liked arriving in the morning; being able to shower, eat some breakfast, and head out for a full day of wandering on the National Mall, napping, swirled frozen margaritas (which I drank too fast) & delicious chips and salsa, a drunken stop at the Asian grocer, then a night in of leftover Rose, homemade cake batter ice cream, and the best homemade pizza I have ever had. (I broke Mike's heart when I told him that.) Cyndi's secret ingredient? Cutting the pizza with scissors. 

I started falling asleep on the couch pretty soon after we finished the ice cream and I could let my guard down. We curled up in Cyndi's bed like old times, sans the Doritos, of course.

T-12 hours.

I'm a planner. I enjoy saying things like, "We should go camping!" or "Let's have a dinner party!" or "We should get a big group together and go climb a mountain somewhere." Then I look into the future and think, How nice that we have all of this time in the world! Then a year and a half goes by and I still haven't seen Cyndi. You know what I mean?

The thing is, Cyndi's been gallivanting all over the world since I visited her in Lincoln, NE (when the above picture was taken). She's been to Japan, South Africa, LA, Hawaii, and various other places I'm not responsible for memorizing, but she's finally settled for the time being (read: student loans kicked in) and I've known for a while that I needed to jump on her being a bus ride away (albeit a very long bus ride). But she made the trip up to Boston last year, during winter no less, so it's my turn to return the favor during one of the most beautiful weekends ever (aside from cherry blossom weekends, of course).

I've been a little stagnant lately. I'm a creature of habit and of comfort zones. Of taking too much alone time until I wake up one day and think, When was the last time I interacted with someone who doesn't live with me? This weekend I'm about to spend in DC is no different; Cyndi's a comfort zone of mine all on her own (woolly mammoth club!), but I get to disguise this recharge of a trip as a trip to a new city! Tourist time! But, really, I'm just excited to sit on a bathroom floor with cheap wine and homemade ice cream on my breath crying my eyes out.

You have your hobbies, we have ours. See you on the flip side! (Read: Monday.)

Buttercream frosting.

This weekend I discovered the beauty of buttercream frosting. You can guess from the name at least two of the ingredients, but if we're all being honest with ourselves, it should be called buttersugar(splashofcream) frosting. Either way it was glorious and a lifesaver at the last minute and made me feel like a real baker as I decorated box mix white cake with it. 

This weekend was full of birthday celebrations for Mike and Jenna, long periods of time spent outside on the porch, stuffed in our kitchen and our living room with so many of the people we love, playing driveway tennis with the jukebox playing loud in the background, and saying phrases that all started with "Happy!" It's back to the rainy weather, but this weekend was a welcome reprieve from the wind and the rain and the gray. But who can complain when your lovey takes a sick day the day after his official birthday and it's raining outside while you work from home to the scent of fresh banana bread, strawberries, pineapple, and coffee. I'm already brainstorming what to bring to DC with me tomorrow, and I can't believe it came so soon! It's already Wednesday? Where did the week go? (Wherever it is, good riddance!)

Things I have learned since last Friday:

1. Mike and I are very similar in ways I did not expect. Last Friday he pouted after the pizza we made would not release from the wax paper on which we had baked it. On Saturday, he mmm'd and yum'd at my overcooked croissants while I rested my bottom lip on the kitchen floor. (Trust me, that is not a place you want your bottom lip to be.)
2. Wax paper, while cheaper, is not the same as parchment paper.
3. Wax paper peels off cold pizza much more nicely than it does from hot pizza (and you have less chance of losing your toppings!).
4. I will eat anything.
5. Saying things like, "How do I expect to ever be a real baker?!" doesn't unoverbake croissants.
6. Planning other people's birthdays is a major source of self-induced stress for me. It is also a major source of great joy and anticipation.
7. Part of my love for other people's birthdays stems from my uncontrollable addiction to baked goods. I currently have cookie dough in my fridge, cupcakes on my kitchen table, and still plans for Twinkie ice cream (Mike's favorite) and red velvet cake for Mike's mom (her birthday's right after Mother's Day).
8. It is impossible to find Twinkies within a one mile radius of my apartment. Tomorrow I will venture out of that one mile radius and get the prize!
9. I know almost every word to every song in Dirty Dancing.
10. While I don't plan to get a dog anytime soon, I am shocked that I have lasted this long without friends with dogs.

Wednesday was Jenna's birthday, so Mike and I dogsat while she and Ron went to dinner. We lounged on their couch, ate their pickles, and cuddled with Piper. I've finished the last details of Mike's scavenger hunt for today, and the majority of the prep for tonight is done. Last night I took a much needed reprieve and got drinks with Meg and Tom at The Thirsty Scholar. There were wings and basketball and summer beers! There was also Ray Allen and that smooshed up adorable mean face he makes when he's doing free throws.

It's almost the weekend (the weekend!). Insert big sigh.

Cinco de mayonnaise.

This weekend was the last that Mike and I will be home all weekend for the rest of May, so we made the most of it by finishing our chair project; making homemade fish tacos, rumaritas (for when you don't have tequila), and croissants; and enjoying May Fair with our hipster dog friend Piper and the rest of Cambridge. The food was delicious; we had gyoza, grilled chicken and steak, rice and fries, fried dough, pad thai, ice cream, and fresh squeezed lemonade. After our fish tacos on Saturday, we went to the park to play glow-in-the-dark frisbee until we got too cold, and we watched the moon looking all super as we walked home. We relaxed after wandering all day at May Fair, watching the latest Grimm and eating cereal (chips and salsa for me) for dinner at 9 o'clock. I didn't want the weekend to ever end, so I kept Mike up talking way past our bedtime until, finally, he dozed off without telling me. I miss him, and this weekend, already.

Reminders on a Friday.

It is beautiful out, but don't be fooled, it's still cold. I feel on the brink of a funk, and I'm actively fighting against it with Lauryn Hill and reheated coffee. I'm planning a lunch break on the porch with my book, too, in case those things don't work.

I broke down and went to get my hair cut at Great Clips yesterday. It was so nice paying only $13 for a hair cut, but I can't help but feel like I look like a little Asian boy today with my bangs all short and rounded at the sides. But I can't blame it on the nice lady at Great Clips, I usually feel like this after a bang trim.

I'm itching to get working on my new writing project again, but I slept in until 8 like a bum today, so that'll have to wait until after work. I'm most excited to tell my writing group and hear what they have to say about what I have written so far. They've been witness to my lack of inspiration lately, and it'll feel so nice to jump back into the groove with them.

While waiting for some down and uploads for work this morning, I stumbled across two links from Meg's blog, and though I think I've shared one of them already, I want to remind myself of the lessons in the perfect paragraphs of it.

Even just the title of Relevant Mag's "11 Things You Should Know at 25(ish)"  article spoke to me. My friend sent it to me months ago, and the lessons still ring true, especially the main point about giving your best to your friends and family: "Loyalty is no small thing, especially in a season during which so many other things are shifting."

This is the thing: When you hit 28 or 30, everything begins to divide. You can see very clearly two kinds of people. On one side, people who have used their 20s to learn and grow...people who know what works and what doesn’t, who have pushed through to become real live adults. Then there’s the other kind, who are hanging onto college, or high school even, with all their might. They’ve stayed in jobs they hate, because they’re too scared to get another one. They’ve stayed with men or women who are good but not great, because they don’t want to be lonely. They mean to find a church, they mean to develop intimate friendships, they mean to stop drinking like life is one big frat party. But they don’t do those things, so they live in an extended adolescence, no closer to adulthood than when they graduated. 

Don’t be like that. Don’t get stuck. Move, travel, take a class, take a risk. There is a season for wildness and a season for settledness, and this is neither. This season is about becoming. Don’t lose yourself at happy hour, but don’t lose yourself on the corporate ladder either. Stop every once in a while and go out to coffee or climb in bed with your journal. 

Now is your time.... Don’t get stuck in the past, and don’t try to fast-forward yourself into a future you haven’t yet earned. Give today all the love and intensity and courage you can, and keep traveling honestly along life’s path.

And I love the part about feeding yourself and others. It's one of my favorite ways to gather everyone I love together in one room until we're all laughing or cuddled together in the next room or right there on the floor:

Learn to cook. Invite new and old friends to dinner. Practice hospitality and generosity. No one cares if they have to sit on lawn furniture, bring their own forks or drink out of a Mayor McCheese glass from 1982. What people want is to be heard and fed and nourished, physically and otherwise—to stop for just a little bit and have someone look them in the eye and listen to their stories and dreams. Make time for the table, and you’ll find it to be more than worth it every time.

And then there's this, from Pluck magazine, about divorce at 23. I'm not married, but I'm closer than I've ever been, and reading things like this is a good reminder that I should never mistake complacency for comfort. I am sometimes the queen of hiding my hurt feelings, of letting my own insecurities compound and grow unknown to others, so knowing that this growing apart can happen before you know it is scary to me, but also valuable.

On another note, happy Friday!

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

This weekend we had a good mix of weather. Friday night Mike and I went out for drinks and shawarma with his old high school English teacher who almost feels like our age. We hung out on the patio at The Field, ate our roll ups on the benches in Central. Saturday we primed the dining room chairs that we're redoing then headed to the park for a picnic, some naps, and speedminton. My cheeks were pink by the time we came home and enjoyed a feast of fried rice, shumai, and lumpia. We fell asleep pretty early on the couch, intertwined and tired from the sun. Sunday was a nice rainy day. We went to Frank's steakhouse on Mass Ave for a celebratory dinner with Mike's family, then wandered Davis Square until the rain drove us back home for tea, mini banana bread muffins, and more Awake. I love shows that make you wonder, How can this possibly keep going? 


Next weekend, Mike and I are in Ludlow. I just spent ten minutes looking up pick-your-own strawberry farms in Western Mass, but alas the season hasn't officially started yet so it may have to wait. The rain has abated for now, but my toes and fingers are still chilled from the return of seasonable weather. It's only Tuesday and I'm ready for the weekend again. I'm sensing a pattern.

This weekend.

This weekend I plan to make English muffins, read until my eyes see double, and buy myself a purse for Spring. I want to write letters and sew, paint the chairs on the porch, and drink sweet tea. I want to dip the scones I made this morning into hot coffee, and schmooze someone (anyone!) into giving me a massage.

Welcome, weekend. I've missed you.

Changing the stats.

It's been another one of those Fridays that's making me earn the weekend. The prospect of City Girl and some reading time is getting me through. An iced coffee from 1369 (thanks, Peg!) and leftover whoopie pies are also helping.

Mike is at opening day at Yankee Stadium. I try not to be the jealous type, but we can't help our genes, can we now?

I'm taking a much-need mental break and supplying some links that are brightening my day:

Busy Bee Lauren keeps complaining about losing her memory because of pregnancy brain (it's a real thing, I'll give that to her), but I'm convinced she's gotten funnier. Case in point: she's discovered her calling as matchmaker to the stars.

Apparently you can't embed Vimeo videos in Blogger, so instead I'll supply a good old-fashioned link. A little reminder to serve as an encouragement and role model for all the little ladies in your life.

The Friday is not what it seems.

Today has been one of those Fridays that makes you work for the weekend. I got started on a new dress last night, blasting music, and enjoying the breeze coming through my windows. This morning, I woke up early and went on a reintroductory run, picking up where I left off (so long ago) on Couch to 5k. The air was cool and the sidewalks empty. It was an ideal beginning to my day.

Then work happened. It's almost midnight, so there isn't much point in rehashing my dirty, rotten, no-good day, but I can tell you it didn't involve a lunch break. Mike was home when I got home--Trader Joe's pineapple and tuscan pane in hand--busily making us pastina with egg and frying up some lumpia. We ate on the porch, guarding our napkins from the insistent breeze.

At nine we walked over to the library hoping the lights at the tennis courts would be on, but it looks like they don't come on during months that should still technically be winter. We tossed the frisbee around until my fingers hurt then walked home. Mike's birthday's coming up in May. I'm thinking of buying him a big house with a wraparound porch and tennis courts. Or maybe just a trip to a rock climbing wall and a homemade peanut butter cake. It's a toss up.

The world is full of love today.

There are so many reasons to be happy today. My nephew, Kai Joseph, was born this morning at 11:16. My sister and bro-in-law are over the moon, and I'm itching to get back down to Georgia for some serious kisses and face smooshing. This weekend started out chilly and overcast then opened up into the most beautiful Sunday. We helped friends move, ate amazing food, and spent time with Mike's cousin, showing them the ropes of Cambridge. It went too fast, but luckily the weather stayed put. I rode my bike to work for the first time this season, and stopped off at the library on my way home. Getting ready for work and winding down from the day with sunlight streaming in the windows has me all smiles.

I also finished sewing my very first dress this weekend! It has little ice cream cones all over it, and after I do a little more work to the back (first time with a zipper foot!), I'll be wearing that puppy to get ice cream every weekend. Or you know, every other weekend, or maybe frozen yogurt. Either way, I'm stoked and ready for the next one.

26 before 26: Slowing my roll & sewing a skirt.

It's Tuesday, and I'm still mourning the end of this weekend. I was in Ludlow since Thursday morning, fighting off a cold and anxiously awaiting Saturday night. Thursday night we went candlepin bowling with Mike's parents and Friday we got some of the best pizza in Springfield. Then Saturday came: we slept in, watched some Walking Dead, went thrift store shopping, then headed off to the Hu Ke Lau, starving and excited. Can I just say, if you ever have the opportunity, GO SEE SINBAD. After his two hour show, I left with sore cheeks and a bursting bladder (I couldn't bear to miss any of it!). The food was pretty phenomenal as well, and the Shocktop was only $3! All in all, the best $32 I've spent in a long, long time.

This week's weather took its cue from this weekend; except for some rain this morning, it's been sunny and in the SIXTIES for the past two days. This winter has been the most forgiving in my five years in New England, and though I'm not quite clawing at the walls begging for spring, I'll never turn down a beautiful day and the absence of a coat.

I also decided to slow my horses and turn my dress into a skirt since it wasn't really working out. I have two new fabrics that are destined for dresses, so I want to go to Sew Low Discount Fabrics to see if I can find a great pattern. I'm so scared of using patterns, but I'll never learn unless I dive in. And even though I feel like I took a step backward--and wasted a lot of thread and time being stubborn--sewing my own skirt was still on my 26 before 26 list. Real winners know when to quit. And start over. And, you know, from the beginning rather than closer to the end where I'd much rather be.

A spoonful of sugar.

It's been a long couple of weeks, and I couldn't confidently pinpoint what it was about them that made them long, draining, exhausting. I've come to each weekend gasping for breath and ready, so ready. The past couple days of working from home have proven restorative. I just made a costume change. This morning when I woke up, this cold starting to really settle in, I just wanted simple: t-shirt and jeans. And just now, I wanted to something looser, something that made feel pretty without feeling over the top, so I changed into a dress, pulled my hair up. Sometimes it's the littlest change that can impact your mood in a big way.

I'm drinking my 2:30 pm coffee, and forgiving myself for eating chips and salsa at 10:30 am and a Luigi's Italian Ice at 1 pm. We went candlepin bowling with Mike's parents last night, and I bowled my best (candlepin) score: 94! It was this basement bowling alley in Palmer that I really want to buy and move some place I actually want to live. (Sorry, Palmer.)

On the docket for this weekend:

• My first trip to Saver's!
• Ocean State Job Lot in Palmer (apparently it's the best)
• SINBAD.
• Dinner with my friend Rachael on Sunday!
• Making headway in The Beautiful and Damned by Fitzgerald
• Getting more fabric to keep going at my dressmaking

Everybody's working for the weekend.

I spent last night failing at sewing over and over. I think I'm too impatient. Luckily, I was simultaneously catching up on Parenthood episodes. Maybe that's why I wasn't doing so hot on the sewing front? I mean, who can expect to sew properly when tears are streaming down your face? No one. That's who.

Today is another busy one. My work plate is full at the moment, and these mini-blogging breaks are helping me keep my sanity. I go from thinking I can wrap my head around everything I have to do, to on the brink of breaking down and throwing my hands up. But that's what I love about this job. InDesign is no joke, and I'm still very much a beginner. I love feeling like I'm learning something new every day, adding to my repertoire of skillz. (Z intended.)

Tonight is dinner with friends then an early morning to Ludlow with Mike. We're going to see Sinbad on Saturday and I can't wait! Plus the obligatory trip to Joanne's and my first ever trip to Saver's. This weekend's going to be a pretty big deal. Yes, I am already thinking about the weekend and it's only Wednesday. What of it?

What do you call it?

I recently did the real stupid thing of adding my work email to my phone. It's nice when I'm on the bus on my way home and I can quickly reply to an email that doesn't need to be dragged out until the next day. But this past weekend there were five work emails hanging over my head, reminding me that Monday approacheth. I'm contemplating removing it from my phone, or just getting better at ignoring it.

Today has been the prototype Monday. I'm so glad I packed cookies.

I'm still wrestling with writer's block. Writer's fatigue? Writer's slow and painful death? All of the above. All of the below, on the other hand, is keeping me going.

I made quite the comeback in last night's game of Intuition. Mike was very supportive.

 This manmade manhole in the MFA's Contemporary Wing was mind-bending. 

 I always seem to come back to this one. The Common's changed a bit since then...

Loved the neon signage all around the MFA. I'm always drawn to words, and these were especially sweet.

Have any good museums around you? 

Sunday, Sunday.

I can't believe the weekend is almost over. I'm sitting on the couch, pouting over my writer's block and lamenting the beginning of another work week. We had a fun, albeit too short, weekend. I took Mike to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston for his first time ever. The new contemporary art wing is really fun, and I actually saw the first bit of performance art that I actually enjoyed. The artist watched New York lawyers during litigation and from that, choreographed a dance for them, which she filmed in the lobby of a law firm in New York. Usually with performance art, I feel like it's so out of my reach as far as understanding and relating, but this one made sense and felt universal, like a reminder of how even the stressful or mundane aspects of my life can become a sort of ritual, routine.

We've also got Hulu+ on Mike's Xbox, which has proven to be very, very dangerous. I have to allot times of the day that I'm allowed to watch TV or I'll just keep watching episode after episode of New Girl, Smash, and Grimm. Also, the pilot of Awake blew my mind.

We're taking tonight slow with dinner at home and, let's be honest, more episodes of Grimm. (I'm not allowed to watch TV until after dinner, though.)

When you love somebody it's hard to think about anything but to breathe.

Another lazy weekend day. Scratch that. Another productive weekend day. I'm listening to this song while chicken soup simmers on the stove, oatmeal raisin cookies bake, and this bread rises on my kitchen table. I've started making a dress out of fabric I bought last weekend. I feel like it's been the perfect combination of time out with friends and time at home getting refreshed for the week ahead.