fragments of thoughts right now

Is tomorrow really August? Really?

I shouldn't love Starbucks, but sometimes I do.

It is a little concerning that my mother said our new apartment reminds her of where I lived in college.

Ice cream is now within walking distance. Dangerous situation.

I don't think I can express how much I despise Delilah (as in Deliiiiilahhhhh on light rock radio stations). That woman's voice makes me want to jump out a window.

my life and the masses

I read something great the other day. "Your life doesn't have to look like the masses, it just has to look like yours." (shout out to Kendi Everyday) I thought I'd share because this is something that really resonates with me.

I struggle with comparison. A lot, in fact. To the point where it is a bit hard for me to even write about. Because it's that thing. You know, that thing. The thing about yourself that you wish you could change and is a constant source of frustration and you know it doesn't make sense and you hate it and sweet baby Jesus your husband just doesn't understand why you are beating yourself up.


If you don't have one of these things then I envy you. But I also think you are weird. Or maybe it is just that you have a penis. Because I think this is a girl thing? 

Chances are if I've met you and liked you (or, hell, sometimes even if I didn't like you or haven't even met you) then I've compared myself to some facet of your life. This is my thing. The phrases, "why can't I just?" and "why am I not?" play quite frequently in my head. You can guess how the difficulty of this past year and starting a new job with new people has had an effect.

So I find that I often have to remind myself that my life is not going to be like anyone else's. It is my own. There are good days and bad days, but the measurement of a good day and a bad day should be my own.  This post came slowly. I hit the delete button a lot. Not shocking stuff, but I'm sharing because it helps me clear my head. And maybe somewhere in the land of the internet someone else feels the same way. And, yes, I used the word penis in a blog post and I am going to hit 'publish' anyways. 

i would like to live here

found via here

hudson river valley / camera play

Husband and I had a quick getaway to the Hudson River Valley for our anniversary. It was a pretty perfect trip. We got lost a lot (GPS does not like to work in the country) which resulted in me using Mother Nature as my restroom more than once (ok, maybe more than two times actually). We drank a lot of wine (and beer) and ate a lot of food (a real, real lot of food). The towns are quaint, the fields are green, and the swimming holes are freezing. It was a restful few days and we loved being able to spend time together just the two of us with no distractions.

As a side note, we had one of the best meals we've ever had at a restaurant called Miss Lucy's Kitchen. Definitely check it out if you are ever in the area.

easily amused

five

Baby, today we turn five. I have been your wife for five whole years. We joke that I hate being referred to as Mrs. (it sounds old), but the truth is I could never really hate it because it means that I am yours. Connected to you.

How could I have ever known the happiness that would come from being yours? Nothing has brought more joy to my life. I love being a wife because I am your wife. I love being married because I am married to you.

Happy 5th anniversary, husband. I am forever yours.

feeling nostalgic

story time

i have come to the conclusion...

That I plan vacations around food.

That there is something so surreal and special about oldest pals sharing the joyous news of pregnancy.

That To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar is one of my favorite movies.

That my dad cannot sit through a movie without talking. It is either that or fall asleep.

That my love for teen fiction is growing. Please help me. Is there a support group for this?

table for two

Part of the move into a smaller (much, much smaller) place means husband and I are thinking about get a rid of our kitchen table. I think a tiny table for two is in our future.

Do you think he'll let me get pink chairs?

image found via here

on books

It was not a terrible day. Just a day where stress was waiting to creep in and some open time and a loss on how to fill it. She drove to a familiar building. One from her childhood. Her feet took her down that same sidewalk she walked so many times with her mother and her brother. There were changes to note once inside. Fresh paint, a new desk, the absence of an old hallway. The smell, though. The smell was the same. The smell of books. Do you know it?

She reads to escape. To make herself feel better. To learn. For wishing and dreaming. For blocking everything else out.

She has laughed out loud on the train before. Sobbed, blinking tears out of the way so she could see the words. Clutched a book close to her heart after the turn of the last page. A good book means a too-late night, a crick in the neck, the yellow light from a bedside lamp. A voracious appetite for the next page. Only true readers know these things. Do you know them?

When she left the library she was smiling. A stack of worn, plastic-covered, hardback books heavy in her arms.