six years ago

    
 Under a canopy of pink and white.

Without fanfare or bended knee. A "baby, I love you" quick like a breath, with the linger of a question at the end.

A pause, a gathering of nerve.

The promise of a lifetime together. And then the question. Earnest and sweet, said with eyes wide open.

Our beginning started like this.

good read

In between my busy schedule of reading Pretty Little Liars and US Weekly, I managed to squeeze in a real piece of literature. Meant for adults. Has anyone else read The Paris Wife? It is the fictional (but based on facts) account of Ernest Hemingway's first wife, Hadley. I felt like my heart was clenched through most of the book. You know what's coming from the get-go, and it is heartbreaking reading about the unraveling of a relationship. Yet, Hadley's voice is so matter-of-fact even when twinged with sadness, the setting makes for a great novel, and I found myself wanting to know why  things ended up that way they did. I highly recommend.

want

fragments of thoughts right now

It's hell being a woman sometimes.

Can't wait for The Host movie.

Satisfaction by The Rolling Stones

At some point in my life, will this year seem like a cake walk?

When the time comes, what kind of mom will I be?

I really need some red jeans.

the weekend

I was feeling crummy this weekend (I'm crossing fingers that my body has not decided to develop allergies) and the rainy weather did not help. Husband and I laid pretty low, but we did manage to get out and make a visit to the East Wing of the National Gallery. Not sure why, but I had never made a trip there before. I am not well versed in modern art, but I think I kinda dig it. Well, some of it anyways. I definitely caught myself thinking "well I coulda painted that" a few times. And, let's be honest, husband of course voiced this out loud more than a few times. Hey, I'm just happy he agreed to go with me.

It absolutely pained me that I forgot my camera. Photo ops were everywhere. As it was, husband had to suffer through taking photos of me with his phone. C'mon, a giant three-panel Miro piece? Of course I am going to goof around in front of it.

on my walk today / camera play

well this blows my mind

Horsetail Falls is a small seasonal waterfall that only appears in late winter and early spring. It flows over the east side of El Capitan, so as a backdrop it has one of the most impressive walls of granite in the entire park. Then – only for part of February, and only when the sky is clear – the very last sunrays of the day selectively linger on the falls, lighting it up with a golden glow that makes the water look like lava.

via tulips and lattes

tell me a story

She was feeling quite low. Clutching the phone, taking deep breaths, trying to block all else out but the sound of her favorite person's voice on the other end. "I've run out of things to say," she said.

He responded, "Do you want to hear a story?"

"Yes, please."

He took a minute, getting his thoughts together. Then told her the story of the caterpillar and the ladybug. You see, the caterpillar and the ladybug were the best of friends. The caterpillar dug around in the ground and the dirt fetching things for the ladybug. And the ladybug flew around in the sky fetching things for the caterpillar.

One day the caterpillar turned into a butterfly so he could fly away with the ladybug, holding hands forever.

"I feel better already," she said.

pantone desserts

Prettiest desserts I've ever seen. See more here.

hello, lover

Image from Sundance Catalog

the whistle

So my dad makes me carry a whistle in my purse every day. Apparently a whistle is going to thwart any would-be attackers as I commute from Center City Philadelphia. This is one of the many "perks" I have encountered since moving back in with my parents.

It was amazing to me that the second I dropped my bags, I reverted to being a child again and filled my rightful place in the household dynamic. I am 29 + 3 years old and I'm pretty sure I've come dangerously close to throwing a temper tantrum in the past year. Eye rolls and heavy sighs have been prevalent. Somehow I  managed to live on my own for almost 8 years in a separate city and state, pay my bills, get myself to work every day (not to mention be a wife) and now I'm toting around my dad's old soccer coaching whistle. There was an incident recently where the whistle came flying out of my bag in front of some co-workers. Not embarrassing at all.

But you know what? I guess my dad doesn't really make me carry the whistle. I carry it because I know it makes him feel better. Dads worry about their daughters. That is what they do. So I am going to continue to nod and smile as he watches me drive down the driveway (hey maybe I have a headlight out), calls me three times when dinner is ready (hey maybe I didn't hear the first two times), and asks me what time I am going to church on the weekends (he just doesn't want me to be a heathen).

dreaming of the big easy

Husband and I visited Bayou Bakery in Arlington on Saturday. The second I stepped inside I was wishing I was in New Orleans. I love that city. I love the people, the music, the food, the architecture and, most of all, the living, breathing personality of New Orleans. The people there are so proud to call it their home. And, good gracious, did I mention the food?!

Visiting New Orleans was a turning point for me, I think. It was when I realized I wanted to move from D.C. More on that tomorrow, perhaps? But, for now, I am dreaming of my next trip to New Orleans. Until then, I will have to make visits to Bayou Bakery and have more disastrous love affairs with some beignets.


P.S. How awesome is the Save our Shores beer from Abita Brewery? Beer as big as my head and the proceeds go to a good cause? Sold!

i was sold the minute they cast him

Seriously, Lenny, I have loved you since I was twelve.

Who is going to see The Hunger Games with me?! Hello, my name is Julia and I have a weird  
love of young adult fiction. Don't judge.

spring on my fingers and toes

 Starting to get the itch for warmer weather. Aren't these colors fun?!

drive

I watched the movie, Drive, over the weekend.  While I found it slow at times and cringed at the intense violence, it intrigued me anyways. Mostly* because this movie is amazingly styled. It manages to look like the 1980's without seeming outdated. Everything -- from the clothes to the set choices to the soundtrack to the font used on the movie poster -- is a deliberate nod to the "me generation".

Has anyone else seen it? What did you think?





* and, yes of course, also due to Mr. Hey Girl himself, Ryan Gosling

hello, lover

on writing again

It wasn't that the words had been dried up for so long. They were there all along, waiting. Waiting to be written. They were trying to speak to her but she put a damper on them, stifling them, telling them that they didn't mean anything. Because the words were hers. And she didn't yet believe in her words.

Now there is a furious, furious scribbling. Ink on her finger and a cramp in her hand. The written words can't keep up. So precious, she's afraid they'll escape. You see, there's freedom in words and with each scratch of the pen she sets a little bit of herself free.