3,000 Miles

2012-02-10T13:58:00.001-08:00

“From my experience, you can’t wait around to find what you love. You gotta work your ass off. And then you find what you love by doing piles and piles of work.”
- Kate Bingaman Burt

2012-02-03T13:55:00.000-08:00

Today, grateful for mountains, sunshine, natural light, toast with lots of butter, my cat's furriness, solitude.

2012-01-28T12:04:00.000-08:00

The soul is like a wild animal - tough, resilient, savvy, self-sufficient, and yet exceedingly shy. If we want to see a wild animal, the last thing we should do is to go crashing through the woods, shouting for the creature to come out. But if we are willing to walk quietly into the woods and sit silently for an hour or two at the base of a tree, the creature we are waiting for may well emerge, and out of the corner of an eye we will catch a glimpse of the precious wildness we seek.

- Parker Palmer, Let your Life Speak

2012-01-24T20:08:00.001-08:00

2012-01-24T09:58:00.000-08:00

I'll speak for myself and say that I am OBSESSED with this design/furniture/decor duo, Nightwood. T showed me their site and I absolutely fell in love. We both said, though, that we've decided we want to do what they do forever: giving dead materials new life by making beautiful, functional creations.

(All images from their site).

2012-01-20T15:43:00.000-08:00

"Snow never fails to please."

I agree.

Sludge and ice, however, fail every time.

2012-01-20T15:41:00.001-08:00

Snowpocalypse 2k12

2012-01-18T19:33:00.000-08:00

It snowed again. In Seattle. The local news station is calling it "Winter Extreme." You may remember the snow fiasco that we had a little over a year ago when Car-mageddon hit the city: SUVs and sedans alike were strewn all over sidewalks and tossed to the bottom of icy streets. This year, we seem to be doing a bit better. We have yet to see much sliding, but there has been much sledding. We got about four or five inches of snow, which is a lot for Seattle proper; the surrounding towns, however, up in the mountains got upwards of 15 inches of snow! 15! That's crazy I tell you.

When it snows in Seattle, people go a little nuts. It's kind of the same, freakishly happy smile as when the first warm day of summer hits Seattle. Everyone waves and smiles at one another, conjures up small talk on the street, and comes up with the most creative ways of spending their time outside. Seattle is known for its passive-aggressive, no-eye-contact folk, so it's a little odd. What's even more odd is what we saw sledding down Queen Anne Hill.

Queen Anne is the neighborhood that we live in an is known for having one of the notoriously steep hills in the city. It didn't take long for it to close to vehicles this morning. It's also known to be one of the best sledding spots because people know that it will inevitably close to cars, it's incredibly steep, and incredibly long (any of you who have visited T and I can attest to all of that). With no sledding devices in hand, T and I hiked up to the hill because Queen Anne sledding is definitely a worthwhile spectator sport. Boy, it didn't let us down this year.

Inches.

Outfit.

Love.

Mattress.

Unexpected.

Also unexpected.

2012-01-15T19:13:00.001-08:00

Found here.

2012-01-09T08:36:00.001-08:00

Obsessed.

2012-01-09T07:56:00.000-08:00

How do you mark important days? Milestones? Anniversaries? I'm sure it depends on the occasion. It does for me. This morning, I'm thinking of how I want to mark the first day of my last term of classes at The Seattle School. Today marks the beginning of the end. But it also marks just...a beginning. The beginning of a completely knew, and what is sure to be surprising, chapter in my life. I've been a student for almost twenty solid years; I'm not quite sure what to expect out of life without papers to write, stacks of books to read, maxing out my mental and emotional capacities, and hours in front of a computer screen. The life I know ends in three and a half months. More than that, however, more than just my identity as a student changing in April, this marks a great shift in this big journey that I'm on. A journey that started in Chapel Hill, NC and brought me all the way across the country to this tiny little school. A part of my journey that has shaped me in inexplicable ways and will continue to do so for the rest of my life.

Important days deserve a little extra attention. So today, as I walk through the doors for class, I will be mindful of all that these last two and a half years have held, as well as all that is and may be before me.

2012-01-02T13:06:00.000-08:00

My last read of the break. I'm in the middle of it. It's different [writing style, subject matter], but I think I really, really like it. A good friend gave it to me for Christmas and, if nothing else, I love sharing in my friend's worlds.

“Sometimes you’re loved because of your weaknesses.

What you can’t do is sometimes more compelling than what you can.”

Another 365 days

2012-01-01T17:07:00.000-08:00

It's hard to believe we've arrived at 2012. I hope you have some major plans on your calendars for this year because, according to the Mayans, this is it. T and I decided on a whim to make a little trip out of our New Years weekend since we didn't have any big plans. We booked a room at the Downtown Hotel in Port Angeles and drove the two and a half hours up to the Olympic Peninsula to ring in the new year. It was a short trip, but a nice one with (way) too much good food. We hopped in and out of antique shops, spent some time in a candy store, and ate two, yes two dinners. Since we couldn't get a reservation at our restaurant of choice, Michael's, until 8:45, we had a little pre-dinner dinner at Downrigger's around 4, which overlooked the water. Dinner number one at Downrigger's was odd - our waitress obviously had some personal d.r.a.m.a. getting in the way of her job performance, so we had a sufficiently awkward experience. Dinner number two was amazing.

This photo of Port Angeles Downtown Hotel is courtesy of TripAdvisor

Appetizer: Baked oysters with bacon, spinach, and basil

aioli

Entree: Traditional paella for two (local seafood, shellfish,

chicken, and Linguica sausage on a bed of crisped rice)

Dessert: NYE specialty chocolate tower cake with

layers of strawberry filling, atop a vanilla custard

with a scoop of homemade raspberry ice-cream

We don't do it often, but we do it right. Since our reservation was so late, we sort of hoped to last at Michael's until midnight. After we downed all that food, however, the only thing that sounded good was heading back to our hotel room to change into "stretchy pants." So we watched fireworks at the Space Needle from our hotel TV, and hoped that Jazzy wasn't freaking out at home. (When we arrived home today, we found out that instead of freaking out about fireworks, Jazzy freaked out about being locked in our linen closet the entire time we were gone. Oops. We gave her lots of love and hugs to make up for it).

As I glanced back at my New Years post 365 days ago, I reflect on 2011 and the surprises that it held for me as I imagined what it would look like on that first day of January. So many hopes realized and so many hopes lost last year. There were wonderful, beautiful, and joyous surprises last year, and there were also painful, dark, and heavy surprises too. I can tell as I sit here, anticipating yet another year to come, that the last 365 days have really shaped me. They have rocked me. In some ways, they have made me hard and cynical. I can tell that I don't have the same kind of boundless hope, nor do I care to even think about resolutions in the same way that I did on January 1st, 2011. Some ideas, some relationships, some dreams don't have the same shimmer as they once may have. While it may sound unpleasant, and it is, I am also grateful for how 2011 stretched me and will continue to. The conversations that I have with my supervisor at my internship often circle around the "growing up" that I'm in the middle of doing. Part of growing up is losing the innocence that we all know and desire: the starry eyed hope in the goodness of people and the world, the belief in Santa and the tooth fairy, unbridled trust and loyalty even in the midst of betrayal. It's sad to me that often times growing up means losing some of these things. I can also tell, however, that my growing this year has made me particularly strong and feel particularly empowered, despite my many moments of feeling the complete absence of these things.

It's love and loss. It's hope and cynicism.

It's trust and doubt. It's joy and grief.

This year is big: graduation and new jobs are in my future. There is much to anticipate, much to hope for, much to dream of. There is much growing to do. Here's to 2012 being a good one whether it's the last one or not.

2011-12-28T14:29:00.000-08:00

Knocked this one out a couple days ago. It was absolutely remarkable.

Is this what life is like when you're not a student? You get to read national bestsellers and enjoy them?

I told T what an epically huge mistake it was to start reading novels over Christmas break. Now even the "good" textbooks I have for school this last term make me want to vomit. Kick me in the face, non-fiction.

Christmastime in Seattle

2011-12-27T09:57:00.000-08:00

Our first year spending Christmas away from our families has been such a mix over the thrill of forming new traditions and the sadness of missing old ones. While our decision to stay in Seattle this Christmas was definitely made in part for financial reasons, T and I also wanted to try at least one Christmas out here for several reasons. We wanted to see what kind of family traditions we would hold onto as part of our newly-formed little family, we wanted to see if Christmas might be a little more restful without hopping around all over the great state of North Carolina (and Virginia!), and we wanted to share at least one Christmas with our Sabbath community since we may not be in Seattle for any more Christmases. There have been many unexpected surprises along the way: realizing that Christmastime is likely to be a little chaotic no matter where you are or who you're with, the sadness of not being with our families, the ambivalence of being "those people" that show up to church twice a year: for Easter and for Christmas, delighting in how much our community here in Seattle often feels like family. Who knows what we'll do this upcoming year with all of the experiments we tried this Christmas season and the (often) unexpected results we received.

For now, some photos of our holidays...

The week before Christmas we began shopping and making gifts. We made homemade apple butter for some of our friends and family (and for ourselves) and listened to none other than the Charlie Brown Christmas album - because it's the best. We also had an ugly sweater/White elephant Christmas party with our Sabbath community, which turned out more to be just tacky outfit night.

You may or may not have heard about our little Christmas tree disaster. Apparently, our tree stand comes with an oh-so-subtle "FILL LINE" marking that lets us know how much water to dump in. Even if we had noticed the tiny warning sign, it's marked on the outside of a completely opaque plastic stand, one in which we cannot see how much water is in there. So, naturally, out of concern for our already-dead tree, I overfilled the stand. How did we realize this? One afternoon I noticed that some of the wrapping paper on our gifts was wet, but thought nothing of it because I'm not a particularly graceful waterer. Later that evening, I noticed LOTS of the gifts were wet, as was our lovely tree skirt. And not only were they wet, they were drenched. So we took out all the gifts, undid the tree skirt, and realized the entire tree stand was soaked - and so was the carpet underneath. So we had every towel that we own working to soak up all of the water, praying to sweet baby Jesus that we hadn't done serious water damage to the floor. To our knowledge, everything turned out ok - it must have been due to T taking a blow dryer to the carpet for half an hour.

Christmas Eve was unlike any other we'd had. We did a whole lot of nothing during the day, except nap and take a nice stroll in the 50-degree weather by the water. Then we stopped by our Sabbath community's Christmas Eve sleepover party before going to a 10:30pm church service (that lasted TWO HOURS!). You better believe that was a struggle.

Christmas morning was so fun! And still a little crazy. We opened gifts from our families on videotape so that we could share the gift-experience with them since we weren't there in person. (Still gotta send those videos out). We talked on the phone to our families and got to Skype with my Dad, Pat, and Thomas! Then as we were mixing up the best pancake recipe EVER to make for our epic Christmas-morning breakfast, our power went out! Oh yes - too hilarious. I was on the phone with Mom when it happened, and she couldn't stop laughing (I secretly think she was laughing because she believed it was God's way of getting revenge on T and I for spending Christmas in Seattle - no offense, Mom, but seriously). So we took showers (QUICKLY) by candlelight, packed up all of the ingredients to make our food for Christmas dinner, and went to our friends' apartment to cook and watch Christmas movies. Thankfully, some of my Christmas traditions stayed intact: Christmas Vacation and Mimi's famous sweet potato casserole.

We spent Christmas night at another friend's apartment with the members of our Sabbath group that stayed in town. We shared a Christmas FEAST together and all managed to fit around one table! We had a Secret Santa gift exchange that was so fun because we all seemed to give such thoughtful gifts to each other.

The day after Christmas, T and I finally got to make our much-anticipated breakfast WITH electricity: sour cream, blueberry pancakes with maple-pecan syrup, bacon, scrambled eggs, and mimosas.

I think that T and I both realized how grateful we were for both our family and our friends this year. It was difficult not to see our loved ones in North Carolina, but we also feel so, so lucky to have a Seattle "family" that loves and cares for us.

2011-12-17T17:45:00.000-08:00

Can't put it down.

Gonna see it as soon as it comes out.

East Coast Surprise

2011-12-17T17:11:00.000-08:00

This past weekend with the help of my lovely stepmother, I was able to fly home to surprise some of my family for Christmas AND see my AMAZING sister receive her Masters. It was a whirlwind of a trip: Seattle, to Charlotte, to Auburn, back to Charlotte, back to Seattle. I'm so glad I was able to go and spend a little bit of time with my family during Christmastime, but especially to be part of Blaire's special day.

Surprise, Dad!

I love, love, love my nieces and nephew.

I also LOVE making silly faces with little bro and big sis.

Alum!

So regal

Merry Christmas to the Johnson's

2011-12-17T17:00:00.000-08:00

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson IV celebrated our Christmas early this year with tickets to Seattle's Deck the Hall Ball: a concert featuring six bands and seven hours of music. Whoa mama. It was madness, but lots and lots of fun. Definitely the biggest concert I've been to in a while since we mostly see smaller (read: cheaper) shows. But, hey, it's Christmas, and let's be honest: Mumford & Sons is totally worth (almost) any ticket price. Mumford was the big draw for us, and they were also the last band to play - starting at 10pm! You better believe it was a struggle for me to make it till then. It was amazing, though, to feel the energy of the room shift as soon as they started - they brought the crowd back to life!

2011-12-06T07:47:00.001-08:00

My gosh, that was one of the longest terms of my graduate school career thus far.

AND. IT'S. DONE.

And, good heavens, I only have one more.

What's happening?

2011-12-01T23:50:00.001-08:00

It's almost midnight. I just finished making a children's book to turn in for a class that I took on domestic violence. And by "I" I mean "we." T literally sewed the thick, thick, thick pages of my book together.

Sewed.

This has gone too far.

Thanksgiving in The Keys

2011-11-28T14:32:00.001-08:00

For Thanksgiving, T and I had the pleasure of going to the Florida Keys to spend the holiday with T's family! T's sister, Marie, and her husband, Tyler, moved to the Keys this past year for Marie to work as a dolphin trainer at the Dolphin Research Center - lucky for us! The weather was, yes, beautiful and a much desired break from wet and cold Seattle. It was also great to spend the holiday with family. Here are some photos from the trip:

A trip to No-Name Pub - known for its walls covered in

$1.00 bills. It's estimated that there are between 65 and

70,000 bills on those walls!

T and I pointing to the dollar that we stapled onto the wall:

"Seattle....The Keys"

Tyler took us fishing

The expert at work

T's catch (which was really caught by Tyler

who then handed the rod to T to reel in)

Thanksgiving morning: swimming with dolphins!!!

We were a little excited

The Dolphin Research Center was closed to the public on Thanksgiving, so we got special access to the dolphins when Marie took us that day. I felt so lucky to get to spend lots of time getting to know some of the dolphins and learning about what Marie does. The dolphins were truly fascinating and amazing creatures; I could tell that everyone that works at DRC loves these animals, too.

Being pulled by Gypsy and Luna - loving every second!

Joy

Shaking fins

Happy holidays!

One of Tyler and Marie's friends, Pete, took us on a

sunset boat ride through some of the Key Colony canals

Thanks to our wonderful hosts, The Blantons!

What a great few days to get to see where Tyler and Marie lived, meet some of their friends and coworkers, and spend time with our family. They seem to have a really loving community who have taken them in, and certainly were extra-hospitable to all of us. I'm so grateful to their friends for welcoming us to their home for Thanksgiving, to Tyler and Marie for showing us around their town, and to the Johnson's for allowing T and I to spend such a wonderful time with our family. This Thanksgiving was definitely one to remember!

2011-11-18T13:23:00.001-08:00

I love my school. Sometimes I forget that I do - mainly when I have a thousand and one things due in a very short amount of time. But it really is a little slice of amazing.

Last night I drove there straight from my internship for what we call Thanksgiving Vespers, "a time of rest and relaxation." This was my first time going in three years at The Seattle School. I was guided through a series of interactive stations (called a Labyrinth) on one of the floors of our building - candlelit, pulsing instrumental music, cinnamon-scented, contemplative. The Labyrinth guided us to the large classroom (those of you that have visited know what I'm talking about - the one with the giant garage doors). All of the tables and chairs had been moved out of the room and replaced with two or three big clusters of candles - that flickering light and a couple of subdued lamps were the only light in the room. We're told ahead of time to bring blankets and pillows. So as I walk in to this dimly-lit room filled with with the sounds of meditative music, my peers are scattered all over the floor, curled up in their blankets - some asleep, some swaying to music, some staring at candles. No one speaking.

And that, my friends, was an hour and a half.

Talk about rest. Talk about thankful.

2011-11-15T15:27:00.001-08:00

Have this in my head and on my heart...

I was wrong, everybody needs someone, to hold on
Take my hand, I’ve been a lonesome man, took a while to understand

There's some things we can’t live without,
A man’s so prone to doubt,
Faithful are the wounds from friends.
So give it just a little time,
Share some bread and wine
Weave your heart into mine,
My friend

Walls fall down, where there’s a peaceful sound, lonely souls hang around
Don’t be shy, there’s nothing left to hide, come on let’s talk a while

Of the places we left behind,
No longer yours and mine
But we could build a good thing here too
So give it just a little time,
Share bread and wine
Weave your heart into mine

If I fall, I fall alone, but two can help to bear the load
A threefold chord is hard to break
All I have I give to you if you will share your sorrows too,
Then joy will be the crown upon our heads
My friend

2011-11-12T14:12:00.001-08:00

Inhale
[Hold]
Exhale
[Repeat]

Fall Happenings

2011-11-08T09:43:00.000-08:00

Life's been happening pretty fast. Here are some photos of our quaint little life. T and I visited The Farm again this year to pick out our pumpkins. (You may remember us making our first trip to The Farm last year and taking some very familiar photos). It's so peaceful there, away from the city. All you hear is children laughing, feet scuffling, and animals chatting.

We had a pretty full Halloween weekend as well: three parties. Wowzas. One of them was a masquerade party and we made our own masks - craft time is good for the soul.

And a little photo shoot with ourselves after the party:

The following night we really did it up right. Our Sabbath group had a lovely Halloween party and since they have really come to enjoy our Southern heritage, we decided to give it to them straight up. Straight up. Our alternate identities for the night were Buck and Tammy. We arrived at Sabbath with a bucket of KFC chicken and a six-pack of Coors Lite. Real classy-like.

I bobbed for apples that night, and I will never do that again. A horrifying experience, but I was kind of awesome at it.

2011-11-08T09:10:00.000-08:00

This is so beautiful!

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

2011-10-30T16:34:00.000-07:00

I wonder why cats love to perch way up high. Ever since T and I added a lovely blue armoire to our living room, Ms. Jazz has found herself atop it almost daily. She finds company in our driftwood and autumnal pumpkins whose homes are on top of the armoire as she sleeps, sits, hunts birds (vicariously), and bathes herself (spreading her little kitty legs for all the world to see through our window). It's definitely her most preferred spot.

I notice the glimmer of pity in her eyes, but mostly a known omnipotence, at she peers down at her human minions from above.

2011-10-28T18:49:00.000-07:00

T and I at a friend's wedding this summer - photos just posted. I wanted to share because I love this photo of the two of us - silly and lighthearted and free.

Photo credit: http://iamkristenmarie.com/

2011-10-28T18:41:00.000-07:00

Cold and rainy in Seattle tonight. At home with cat and husband. Making an Italian dinner - husband making dinner, I am reading and blogging - and looking forward to warm cider, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!" and making Halloween costumes.

Almost-empty tea mugs sit on the coffee table (ironic) from reading together earlier this afternoon. Feathers strewn on the floor from cat destroying cat toy earlier this afternoon.

Sound of knife on a cutting board, water boiling, timer beeping. Smell of garlic.

Snuggle.

2011-10-28T14:31:00.000-07:00

"I must learn to love the fool in me--the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool."

-- Theodore I. Rubin, MD

So pertinent these days.

2011-10-25T16:06:00.000-07:00

Just thinkin' about my mom today and the fact that she was born on this day a couple of years ago. A few years ago. Maybe. I'm just really glad that she was born and that she is who she is - with all the great parts, and even all of the not so great parts. She's such a wonderful mom, woman, sister, friend, wife, person. I'm lucky to know her and call her Mom.

Love you, beautiful mama.

(And you can get over the fact that

I put your picture on the internet.

I won't even apologize for it.)

2011-10-24T13:47:00.000-07:00

Come on, jump out the door

You can't hold it down no more

I'll show you how the birds learned how to fly

Don't mind leaving your nest

Don't mind making a mess

This might be the best day of your life

- Katie Herzig, "Best Day of Your Life"

2011-10-23T22:29:00.000-07:00

The woods became a roofless cathedral about us.

- Harry Middleton, The Earth is Enough

2011-10-23T17:03:00.000-07:00

It's fall...here's what I'm thinking about, and lookin' at, and lovin'...

2011-10-23T14:39:00.001-07:00

Here's when I'm overwhelmed.

2011-10-18T19:42:00.000-07:00

This is amazing! You can't help but laugh not only at how scared people get, but also what a kick Ellen gets out of scaring people. I love it.

2011-10-16T18:49:00.000-07:00

Family:

In human context, a family (from Latin: familia) is a group of people affiliated by consanguinity, affinity, or co-residence. In most societies it is the principal institution for the socialization of children. Extended from the human "family unit" by biological-cultural affinity, marriage, economy, culture, tradition, honour, and friendship are concepts of family that are physical and metaphorical, or that grow increasingly inclusive extending to community, village, city, region, nationhood,global village and humanism.

Family on the mind today. The little one that I've started with a husband and a cat. The big one I have in North Carolina that fills up three households and then overflows into a couple of others, and is growing; those people that have raised me, or been raised alongside me. The family that is sprinkled all over this country - some of whom I know well, others whom I don't. This family I will see sporadically throughout the year, and am looking forward to seeing parts of very soon. I'm also thinking about the family that I won't be seeing for the first time during Christmas, and how grateful I am for Christmas traditions to begin with my husband, yet how sad I am to miss out on traditions I've known all my life.

The family that is not biologically related to me but is, instead, considered, "family by choice." Often those are the people that I think aren't related to me, but that relate the best to me. They know me, they get me. We're in each others lives in unique and special ways. Some of these family members are in my life for the day-to-day, mundaneness of life, for which I'm grateful. Others are thousands of miles and phone calls away, but feel like we haven't missed a second in each others lives. For this, I'm also grateful.

Family is so screwed up, but we wouldn't be anywhere without it.

I love this movie so much.

2011-10-15T14:38:00.000-07:00

[Testing the waters for trying to post something on a more regular basis. I know it won't last for long, but I thought it might be fun.]

Random thought of the day: I'm in a tomboy phase, despite the fact that I was in a very feminine phase two weeks ago when I bought a new pair of high heels. So, I wear bright red lipstick with my Chuck Taylor's, and I wear ripped jeans with my heels. I believe this is the quintessential definition of "hipster." Well, crap, now I've done it. I've officially succumbed to all that is Seattle. A reference for you from Urban Dictionary:

Although "hipsterism" is really a state of mind, it is also often intertwined with distinct fashion sensibilities. Hipsters reject the culturally-ignorant attitudes of mainstream consumers, and are often be seen wearing vintage and thrift store inspired fashions, tight-fitting jeans, old-school sneakers, and sometimes thick rimmed glasses. Both hipster men and women sport similar androgynous hair styles that include combinations of messy shag cuts and asymmetric side-swept bangs. Such styles are often associated with the work of creative stylists at urban salons, and are usually too "edgy" for the culturally-sheltered mainstream consumer. The "effortless cool" urban bohemian look of a hipster is exemplified in Urban Outfitters and American Apparel ads which cater towards the hipster demographic. (Read more here).

There we have it. Maybe that's why I'm so confused - because that's the "hipsterism" state of mind.

2011-10-14T15:29:00.000-07:00

Quiet day at home. Hearing the sounds of the city outside my apartment, grateful for where I live and who I live with. Grateful for people who live near me, and grateful for some who live far. Noticing the monochrome color scheme of the sky, the apartment buildings across the street, our apartment walls and carpet; grateful for colorful pillows. For color (like the bright red lipstick I'm wearing on this quiet day at home). For my cat who gets up from her nap across the room to come and nap next to me. Grateful for sentimental trinkets and hot tea. Grateful for this little blog and the people who have followed my life through it.

Shalom.

Miss Representation

2011-10-13T22:17:00.000-07:00

Do it, ladies.

[I recommend viewing this in full screen.]

Miss Representation 8 min. Trailer 8/23/11 from Miss Representation on Vimeo.

NewVillager

2011-10-11T12:38:00.000-07:00

I am so grateful for friends that recommend amazing music. Especially when it comes with a video like this.

2011-10-10T18:57:00.000-07:00

My professor, on the presence of evil in the therapeutic work:

You are not simply changing the way someone speaks. You are not simply changing the waysomeone thinks or feels. In thatmoment, you are fighting for someone’s soul.

Through tears.

Is the work that we're doing making a difference?

2011-10-08T13:19:00.000-07:00

Just another reason why Amy Poehler is amazing. (Click the link on her name!)

More kitchen humor

2011-10-04T09:38:00.000-07:00

There really is never a dull moment in the Johnson kitchen. If you haven't been to our place, I don't think I can really create a picture small enough to describe the size of our kitchen. It's tiny. As the owner of a bed-and-breakfast once phrased it, we have a "one-butt kitchen" for sure. Only one butt can fit in it. This makes all of our cooking projects pretty interesting.

This weekend we hosted our Sabbath community on Sunday night - the group that meets once a week for a shared meal and time together - about 15 or so. We decided to make chili because the weather has turned cold and soggy for the season ("crisp" Falls do not exist in this city). Conscious of our community, we also decided to make two different chili's: one meaty, and one veggie. Unfortunately, however, we only have one large stock pot big enough to hold an entire batch of chili.

What to do? What to do?

Get creative.

And, boy, did we ever.

And, boy, did we pay.

T (yes, I will blame this on him - it was his boyish curiosity) really wanted to see if the ceramic insert of our crockpot could cook a pot of chili on the stovetop. I mean, it's meant to get hot, right? Oh, how you must be chuckling at this point.

I argued - but not hard enough. "I don't think it's a good idea." "But it's meant to get hot!" "Fine, T. Do whatever you want."

Aye - never good words to utter.

So, as you may have guessed, T put the ceramic crockpot insert onto the large eye of our stove. In our bedroom, I heard him say, "It smells kind of weird." But, after a few minutes it seemed to be working ok.

We had about 45 minutes before our Sabbath group was supposed to arrive, and, as any amateur chef knows, soups need to boil to actually cook all the flavors together. So, T turns up the heat: medium-high. I was nervous, standing over the sink, washing a few dishes, my third eye on the stove.

Then, we hear POP!

I cursed...loudly, quickly. One syllable. Just enough to allow T to utter, "Uh-oh."

"It cracked!"

I frantically began scouring the counters for our oven-mits. I shoved them in his face. "It's not hot, Kelsey, it's cracked!" T yelled. He grabbed both sides of the pot, pushed the halves together, and lifted. He did not know that a perfect circle had cracked in the bottom of the pot - when he lifted, the bottom of the pot stuck to the eye, and chili came flowing out like molten lava. (It seems like our kitchen disasters always involve a molten-lava-like substance). Yes - a steaming river of chili.

As you can imagine with the burner still on medium-high, the chili instantly started cooking right to the stove. Not to mention that it also flowed right underneath the burner, covering the innards of stovetop. Then onto the floor and dripped all over the counter where T carried it to the sink. Chunks of tomatoes, beans, and zucchini everywhere. Not to be disgusting, but chili already looks unpleasant as is - when it has been thrown all over kitchen floors, cabinets, and counters it's really appetizing. You would have thought someone vomited over our entire kitchen.

30 minutes till guests arrive. What do we do? We don't have enough for everyone!

"Here, this is big enough to hold all of it," T says, as he pulls our roaster out of the cabinet. I shrugged, grabbed hold of the roaster, T with his spatula, and began scraping all of the stovetop chili into the pan. Yes. Scraping chili into a roasting pan. Salvaging our crockpot-vomited chili.

I had lost most verbal capabilities at this point. I chose, very intentionally, to mute myself because I knew that anything that rolled off of my tongue would have been regretted later. T chuckled as we were scraping glops of chili into a turkey roasting pan and I gave him a look. "T, I'm sorry, but this just isn't funny to me yet."

At least I knew it would be funny eventually, right?

And yes, we got it cleaned up, heated up, and served on time. Don't worry, we didn't do any intense scraping so as to get the burned chunks into our friends' dinner. Gross. Just the top layer of goodness that we could still salvage. We told them the story and of course they laughed and were shocked because they had no idea when they came in that anything like that had happened.

I'm so glad we'll have such a substantial repertoire of stories to share with our kids - keeps us humble. Real, real humble.

T, honey? You did a real good job.

Ironically, my lovely friend and House of Love roomie, Dana, brought T and I a gift that night as a part of an inside-joke from living together. While I can't fully describe the extent of the joke, it felt too appropriate for our cooking experience. Little did she know what this little gift meant!

Little lights

2011-10-03T11:00:00.000-07:00

It's no question that I've been swimming in several weeks, or months, of deep, dark waters. Oceans thick with confusion, haze, frustration, grief, sadness, loneliness have been my playground. I blend the metaphors intentionally: I'm swimming, I'm playing, I'm falling, I'm drowning, I'm getting back up, I'm climbing, I'm laughing, I'm scared, I'm trying, I'm failing, I'm succeeding.

Yes.

Again, I am.

Yes.

I'm a child. I'm the parent. I'm an Olympian. I'm on the bench.

Our journeys are never linear, right? We're all over the place - I'm all over the place. Yes.

Yes, and amen.

Over the weekend, T and I went over to another couple's new place to watch a movie together. It was lovely to be invited into their new home - a big step for them - and to be invited to just be silly and to simply be.

Ok, so we watched Bridesmaids. Those of you that read this, I'm sure, have mixed feelings about this movie whether you've seen it or not. I know for a fact that I have some family members that saw the movie and totally hated it. Regardless of what you do or don't think about it, however, I have been dying to see it since it was released in the theaters. I even went with a group of girlfriends to see it, and the theater sold out of tickets by the time half of my group got in! I...was not one of the ones in. Very sad day. Since then, I had been anticipating it's DVD release like crazy.

Let me just tell you - I haven't laughed so hard in such a long time. I mean, tears-rolling-down-cheeks, stomach-hurting, cheeks-burning laughing. It's so inappropriate, so crude, and at times so uncomfortable that I wasn't sure I should still be watching. (But no nudity - which I realized the next day and thought was interesting). But it was friggin' hysterical. And, my God, what a relief to laugh and laugh and laugh uncontrollably. My body had to remember how to do it. Thank goodness laughing is like riding a bike - but way better.

Also, on the subject of movies, I have to see this. And so do you.

It looks beautiful! So sweet, heartfelt, and moving.

Movies may be trite, or a waste of time, but there's something really significant about finding little light points when I'm weighed down so heavily.

Grief is close at hand.

2011-09-27T12:12:00.000-07:00

Grieving death on behalf of a very dear friend. Yesterday, The Seattle School felt like it was under the weight of the world. Dark and rainy, the clouds pushed our building, with all their weight, a little further into the bowels of the earth. Death seeped into our community, and death forced itself into our community. A steady trickle, and a mighty wave.

We sat in one class for over an hour in silence. Some quietly wept. Runny noses. Wiping tears. Staring at the wall, at the floor, at the ceiling, at nothing.

"Death stops us in our tracks," my professor said.

"I don't know these people personally," my friend said, "but the amount that I'm feeling right now tells me how deeply we're all connected."

Connected, yes.

Stopped, yes.

Angry, confused, lost, helpless, small, fearful, anxious, devastated, yes.

I am.

2011-09-25T15:16:00.000-07:00

I don't intend on only updating you on the weather here in Seattle. But, seriously, Seattle is confused. Yesterday, we were in shorts, tanks, and sandals at the Puyallup Fair - tan lines accomplished by the end of the day. Today we have seen clouds, rain, hurricane-force wind, and sun - all at the same time. We left the apartment at 10am to run a bunch of errands (really, to go Fall shopping...and grocery shopping), and every time we came out of a store it was as if the seasons had changed all over again! It was different every single time.

Poor old Seattle....she doesn't know what to think.

It's coming

2011-09-13T16:21:00.000-07:00

Well, today will be the hottest day of the week with a record-breaking high of 72 degrees. After that, it gets almost a degree colder every single day of the week as it progresses. When our alarm goes off at 6:15am, it's still dark. The sun will set around 7:25pm - a markedly noticeable difference than sunset times in July when there were little remnants of daylight still leftover at 10pm.

I love this place, but, man, you sure know when the good gets goin'. It's goin' alright - right on outta here.

2011-09-08T23:09:00.001-07:00

Read it.
Period.

My iPhone life

2011-09-06T11:37:00.000-07:00

Oh, the glories of the iPhone. A portable phone, computer, camera, and a thousand other devices that I probably don't even realize the iPhone is capable of mimicking. I love having a decent little camera with me at all times - I get to capture good stuff that normally I wouldn't have a way to record.

First official "swag" from The Seattle School. I was lucky

enough to still be working at school on the official day of the name change

so I scored of these beautiful items. I use my mug literally every morning.

Woohoo! It's official!

Best view of the city - the Columbia Tower. 76 stories

up and only cost $3. Definitely more bang for your buck than

the Space Needle - in fact, we are towering over it in this picture.

Not only was this year a huge one for our school because of the name change, but it was also an incredible year for my team - Admissions. This year, we helped to enroll the largest incoming class that our school has ever seen! First class at The Seattle School is a gigantic one! So, after I worked my last shift for The Seattle School of Theology and Psychology Admissions Team, we all went out for a surprise celebration. Last week, I got this text message from my boss:

"Hey Team. Here's the scoop for tomorrow. We will meet at The Seattle School at 2:30 and caravan to an undisclosed location. The dress code is end of summer South Beach. Think lots of skin, lots of bling, and lots of champagne. But bring something to layer with because, well, this isn't South Beach."

Little did I know that I would be boating on the waters of Lake Union, Salmon Bay, and Portage Bay. All places that I drive to on a regular basis, but never experiencing them from the water! It was a GORGEOUS day and we had so much fun celebrating our year together. I love this team and will miss working with them dearly.

Our captain for the day.

First mate - he won a bet so he won a hat.

Our spread.

Best team leader - loved working for and with this lady.

Under bridges.

On the water.

Cheeks hurting from laughing.

Love this team!

Over the course of two weekends, T and I went hiking just an hour Northeast of Seattle at Mt. Index. We wanted to discover both a beautiful waterfall, Bridal Veil Falls, and a beautiful lake, Lake Serene. The first weekend we went, we only made it the 1.5 miles up to the waterfall and back - it was much more brutal than expected! Since we really wanted to see the lake at some point, we decided to make a trip back for Labor Day.

August 28, 2011:

View from the falls.

September 5, 2011:

Crossing the bridge at the bottom of the falls

that we had been to the top of last weekend

Giant sheets of rock

More giant rocks

Stump!

Snow-capped mountains - we were finally reaching the top!

The water is so clear!

We sat on a rock in our bathing suits and ate lunch.

Happy hikers.

Silly hikers.

I've been avoiding you

2011-08-30T22:03:00.000-07:00

I've been subconsciously, but purposefully, avoiding this blog. That's kind of sad. Sometimes, you go through seasons of life where you don't want to think about your life, much less write about it and look at the words on a screen, much much less know that other people are reading it. Sometimes, it's just a little too much to make life concrete - to type it into existence. Sometimes life's just hard. It's hard. For me, right now, it's hard.

Thinking about a lot of beginnings and a lot of endings. A lot of changes. A lot of evaluating. A lot of questions like, "What kind of person do I want to be? What kind of life do I want to lead? Do I want to be a risk-taker? What kind of regrets do I want to have?" A lot of growing-up - in the not-fun, really uncomfortable, here's-a-hard-look-at-life's-realities kind of way. A lot of putting on big-girl pants when I just really want to stay in diapers.

Part of it is having started my internship. I'm over a month in, saw clients on my first day and have been seeing four clients regularly for this whole time. That's crazy. But I don't know how to talk about it here because of so much confidentiality, so I've avoided it. It's a huge part of my life now, and I don't know how to share my life without sharing parts of my internship. Blop. It's heavy. I am learning so much. I feel like an aged woman and a five-year-old all at the same time. This work is so full.

I've started my third year. The beginning of the end of my graduate education. I can't begin to explain how loaded that is - I'm not ready to leave this place yet. A year doesn't feel like enough time, and yet I'm so tired and ready to be something other than a student. This year holds so, so much for me. I feel so invested in my classes - both because I feel like I'm choosing them and excited about them and also because I know they will be my last ones. This is my last Fall term at The Seattle School of Theology and Psychology (Yes, it's official. No, no one is getting it right yet in conversation - we all still say "Mars Hill Graduate School." That's ok.) This morning was my last beginning-of-the-year breakfast. I have been so emotional this week because I keep thinking in "lasts"! "My last this, my last that." I love this place so much.

Yet there is so much, as I said, that is beginning. I am a part of Student Council this year - involved with serving the student body as a whole and what we, as students, want and need from our institution. T is a member of a different realm of student leadership at my school - group called "Mosaic" that serves the spouses, partners, and families of students at The Seattle School. We're leading/serving separately and together! It's a beautiful thing. I don't have a paying job. That's weird and scary. Although I'm sometimes selling pizzas at markets with T and I's friend who has his own wood-fired, brick oven pizza business. I'm doing an independent study with my favorite professor and one of my dearest friends about food and hospitality and the sacredness of their interplay that already has me buzzing despite the fact that it doesn't start until the spring. The three of us are going to eat a lot of good food together. T and I have also developed relationships with several of our neighbors which is thrilling for us. Both couples are older than us and not connected with our work or school lives whatsoever. They are refreshing, beautiful, budding relationships.

There is so much goodness in the midst of much difficulty. Isn't that how it goes? That's what I'm experiencing in these recent weeks. That's where the diapers come off and the big-girl pants go on. I don't like them - my metaphorical pants. They're tight, uncomfortable, constricting, and too responsible-looking. I liked the freedom of the diaper - to have a metaphorical accident and to have someone else clean it up for me. Or at least help me clean it up. Big-girl pants means it's time to do it on my own. To clean it up myself, or to never make a mess in the first place. Yuck. I don't like it.

Anniversary

2011-08-23T23:25:00.000-07:00

Bainbridge Island
August 6, 2011

move

2011-08-23T16:22:00.001-07:00

MOVE from Rick Mereki on Vimeo.

Can't help but laugh

2011-08-18T08:17:00.000-07:00

Just keep watching...

Letting Go

2011-08-15T20:59:00.000-07:00

All growing is changing

From one state to another.

Leaving a world behind,

Entering the fear of the unaccustomed:

Of colors that don’t blend,

Of holy words that jar,

Of fractures that give rise to visions

We have left one realm

But have not arrived at the other

We have given up on safety

But not gained another.

Above the gazing crowd

The trapeze artist lets go of his swing,

And then, if his timing is right,

Seizes the other swing,

Without asking time to stop for him.

That is the flight into growth.

That is the changeover

In which we experience our nakedness

To the point of hurting.

But there is not real growth

Without leaping

Without burning bridges,

And standing wide-eyed and shivering

On a new shore.

And yet

Without growth

There is nothing.

"Try"

2011-08-04T09:06:00.000-07:00

I took this video at the concert on Tuesday night. One of my favorite songs by Ben Sollee, "Try." I apologize for the wobbly camera at times - it took everything I had to keep that stupid thing still.

Try, try, try

Try to move a mountain without a shovel in your hand

Choose, choose, choose
How to choose
When there ain't no right or wrong
That must be why we've invented fate

Sky, sky, sky
Can't see it all at once

Tell, tell, tell
Theres no telling what history will bring
That must be why we've learned to pray

I can't wait to hold your little hand
Hold your hand, child
Hold your hand

Why, why, why?
Why did Socrates apologize?

Run, run, run
You can't run from your shadow in the light
That must be why some people crave the dark

I can't wait to hold your little hand
Hold your hand, child
Hold your little hand

Give, give, give
How to give it all to someone not yet born
That must be how
We've learned to love

Heart strings: mended.

2011-08-01T22:47:00.000-07:00

I'M GOING TO BEN SOLLEE TOMORROW! My leader is amazing - he knows the value of good music and rescheduled our meeting. He couldn't bear for me to miss one of my favorite artists.

Community

2011-08-01T17:41:00.000-07:00

This is one of my favorite songs. It's by Alexi Murdoch, called "Orange Sky" - it's gorgeous. I was listening to it while I walked home from school today.

I think about community a lot. T and I are building a relationship with a neighbor couple; they own and run the consignment shop around the corner from our apartment and live on the second floor. They have a rooftop garden and patio and are having us over for dinner this week. We sat in the shop for 45 minutes this weekend dreaming with Klaudia, the shop owner, about a community garden for our neighborhood. She was so energized by the idea! I was with my Sabbath community last night for the first time in three weeks. So rich and good is their warmth, conversation, journeying. I missed them. After Sabbath, T and I helped some friends move. We have had at least 5 good friends move within walking distance of our apartment. I stopped by one of our friends' new places this morning on the walk to work - they were in their pj's, I had my coffee mug. We just sat and chatted. My people are such good people.

Today, I picked up a graded paper when I went into school for work. It was the Personal Ethic paper that gave me so much trouble back in June; I had to write down basically what I believe about therapy (i.e. what I believe about humanity). Sort of.

Anyway, my TA (who is a precious gem - her feedback is always kind, gentle, and encouraging) had a lot to say on my paper. I loved seeing her scribblings all over the pages. (Note: a huge difference in receiving papers back at Mars Hill vs. UNC is that I actually get excited to see lots of words written. I know, here, the words are inquisitive, gracious, and always calling me to more). One of her last comments really struck me, and feels like it will take root in my soul for many, many years:

Sometimes our questions make us pioneers, adventuring into new places, and sometimes they keep us as nomads, wandering, alone, "Where is home?" Sometimes, it may not be a place, but home may be found in good fellow journeyers who can help set up a cozy camp inside the question.

I am grateful to my wise teacher. I love people. I need people. Even when they dizzy me with heartache, bitterness, and rage. Even when they spin me into a storm of fury. That's when, actually, I hope I learn to run faster into their arms. That's when I hope I can hold my arms open, ready to embrace.

That's when I miss you

That's when I miss you, you who are my home

Heart strings: ripped.

2011-08-01T17:18:00.000-07:00

Today I was thinking about this cellist that I love, Ben Sollee. I was thinking about his voice and the grace with which he plays the cello and how his sound sweeps over me and washes over me, clean. I wasn't listening to him today, just thinking about him.

Then, I remembered that I looked up his tour dates several weeks ago and was saddened that he wasn't coming near Seattle. It seems that, with the influx of musicians there are in this city, I never seem to know any of them, so I never go hear music. Or...rarely. That's a sad thing for me. But, I got home from work today, longing for his sweet sounds, and decided to check just one more time. When the page of his tour dates loaded, my heart jumped because I saw the word, "Seattle." Then, my heart lept, because I saw the words "August" and "02." The rolodex in my mind ferociously spun - what day is it? What week is it? What time zone am I in? Where do I live? What country is this?

It's August 01. The day before Ben's show. Ben's show is in the

future. That means I haven't missed it.

So quickly my rolodex shifted gears, into reality, and I began running through my actual schedule for tomorrow. I knew I had to work, and I knew I had a meeting after work - I had just checked the calendar on my phone. My meeting ended at 6:30. The concert is at 7:30 - PRAISE BE TO THE MUSIC LORD ABOVE! My heart sang!

So, I frantically fumbled for my phone and called my meeting leader, leaving him a frenzied and chaotic message about wanting to double check that I had our meeting time correct because this guy was coming in town and maybe I could just make it to the show and that I peed my pants a little. That was probably a little too much information, but word vomit had completely taken over. I hung up the phone with a slight grin and crazed look in my eye.

Then, I opened my e-mail. I found the last e-mail from my meeting leader to double, double check. And...there it was. "7:30 - 9:30." My heart turned into a black, volcanic rock and sank to the bottom of my ocean.

I sent him a message telling him to disregard my voicemail.

I will not be going to the concert tomorrow.

I will be in a meeting, humming Ben Sollee tunes, and very bitter.

Home away from home away from home

2011-07-27T15:31:00.000-07:00

Sunset Beach is like a second (or third, or fourth...) home to me. My family began going to Sunset before I was born and I grew up spending summers and spring breaks on that glorious little island. The thing about it is that there isn't much to show or tell about. It's about a mile long, complete with houses, pier, about five little shops, and beach. That's it. It's not especially romantic but, to me, it's childhood. It's a place where we never locked our doors, our parents never worried where we were, and everything was just a bike ride or walk away ("everything" meaning ice cream, the beach, junk shops, and canals to play in). It was my heaven. While I know that there were countless times of complaining, feeling bored, hated the heat, and cried of sunburn, my memories of Sunset Beach are mostly heavenly. What I remember most is feeling free.

While I was in North Carolina for the last two weeks, I lucked out and got to go down to the beach with just my mom and my sister to stay with my grand-dad. There isn't much to tell about the trip because it was fairly uneventful, but that's exactly what I wanted. I wished I had gotten a few more photos, but, hey, I didn't feel like it at the time.

The box of Kleenex and I were attached at the hip.

Mom - if you say one word about not liking this picture then

I'll blow it up and put it on Facebook.

Coast to coast

2011-07-27T15:13:00.000-07:00

After a two-week stay in the state of North Carolina, I have finally returned to the beautiful city of Seattle. A wedding, family visits, friend visits, pet visits, a beach trip, a week-long migraine followed by a week-long head cold, I am here. I am tired and relaxed, nostalgic and anticipatory. So much left at home, and so much to look forward to here. I have missed my T, my cat, my home, my community, my city, and my rhythms. I'm excited to have the rest of the this week to rest and soak in my friends.

Next week, my internship begins. I am starting on Wednesday with four clients on the docket and a consultation meeting with the entire therapy staff. Maybe you can imagine some of the things that I am feeling. It's not just been the two years that I have lived in Seattle and started school, though that has certainly intensified the process, but it is has been my life's work. After all this time, all this preparation, all of the lectures and the reading, all of the happy and sad tears shed, after all of the mental, emotional, and spiritual work that has brought me to this moment - it has arrived. This work becomes tangible. Next week, my fingers go into the dirt.

Anticipation + Dread.

Passion + Work.

Fear + Excitement.

Confidence + Worthlessness.

Adulthood + Childhood.

Humanity + Legality.

Doubt + Hope.

Back

2011-07-20T08:27:00.000-07:00

Haitus. I didn't mean to take a haitus. I love my blog. I love reflecting into the anonymity of cyber-space. It's just been nuts. The strangest thing has been that my trusty laptop, which I never leave home without, was left in Seattle - on purpose. I got this new phone and it allows me to do most, if not more, of the same things on a miniture little screen that I would normally do with the 5-pound silver brick. While I love the convenience of my new little gadget, it doesn't allow me to have the same relationship with my blog that I do with a full-sized keyboard and screen. As you can imagine, a screen of only a few inches really does a number on my eyes.

It's been an interesting trip so far. A lot has happened: just a wedding, being a matron of honor, my husband has come and gone, I've spent multiple nights with each family, seen friends, and read so many gloriously mind-numbing magazines. I realized last night, however, when I could barely hold a conversation at dinner with my family, that I have had little to no alone time. That is a serious problem for me. I need time not only when I don't have to talk to anyone else, but also when I literally do not see anyone else. I feel too much pressure, no matter how many times I may be reassurred, that I am responsible for entertaining and being polite. Especially when I am at home and haven't seen any of my friends or family for months, I feel rude not to be engaging someone at all hours of the day. Can't I just tough it out? I'm only here for a couple of weeks and then I won't see them for several more months. Can't I just keep going for a couple of days? Can't I just have one more social engagement? Fit one more person in? One more conversation or shared meal?If no one is around, however, then the pressure is off. Finally.

So I finally have a moment to breathe. No one else in this big house for possible only a few more minutes. But it's glorious. Somewhere along the line, I will have to figure out how to convince myself that my alone time is not selfish. And it doesn't mean that I don't love my friends and family. All it means is that I am an introvert and that I have limits. Shocking! I have limits. My limits are different than anyone else's because I am me and that's ok.

For now, I've been thinking of and mentally compiling a list of things that I love about the South and/or things that I love about coming home to good ol' North Carolina. Mainly, I've been doing some serious consideration of how to recruit some of my favorite folks from Seattle to move with T and I back to North Carolina. We need a tribe. It's something T and I talk about a lot. And we talked a lot while he was here about what the next few years will look like for us and especially not wanting to feel alone. So much has happened for us in Seattle - so much goodness and growth - and we want people, need people, in our lives who have been a part of that experience.

So, here are some things that we're hoping will convince our friends that North Carolina is the place to be:

Peaches so tender that they fall apart when you eat them; so juicy that they must be eaten over the kitchen sink
Beaches that are sandy and hot; you can actually get a tan and can actually get in the water
Bojangles (chicken, buiscuits, seasoned fries, sweet tea), Cook Out (burgers, sweet tea, milkshakes), and Chik-fil-a (chicken sandwhiches and sweet tea)
Sweet tea
Swimming pools - similar reasons as the beach; T and I went to our friends' pool in Seattle and thankfully I didn't get in the water, but T did and then he got a cold
Strangers wave at you/speak to you/acknowledge your humanity on the street
The evening news is funnier/less depressing to watch when everyone has a Southern accent

Let me know what else you would add! I've got a good start, but that list could really be beefed up.

2011-07-08T10:20:00.000-07:00

I don't get tired of you. Don't grow weary
of being compassionate toward me!

All this thirst equipment
must surely be tired of me,
the waterjar, the water carrier.

I have a thirsty fish in me
that can never find enough
of what it's thirsty for!

Show me the way to the ocean!
Break these half-measures,
these small containers.

All this fantasy
and grief.

Let my house be drowned in the wave
that rose last night out of the courtyard
hidden in the center of my chest.

Rumi

Inspired

2011-07-07T23:47:00.000-07:00

Stumbled across a website this evening that has stolen my heart: Kinfolk. An online journal completely devoted to the art of shared meals.

This video is a "trailer" for Contigo Austin - a restaurant that opened in Texas just this spring whose goal is to recreate the atmosphere of the Contigo Ranch. The video and the Kinfolk magazine inspire me to delve into my passion for food gatherings - if only I could find the time to cook :)

P.S. - Music by Balmorhea, another significant love of my life.

Heaviness

2011-07-07T23:31:00.000-07:00

Death and dying. These words have surrounded me literally and figuratively. A good friend is getting married this weekend here in Seattle, yet her fiancee's brother suddenly died from cancer last week - how to celebrate a marriage when their family is certainly grieving a life? I'm faced with a family member's imminent death - unobligingly recalling childhood memories that are certainly soon to be all I have left. It's only a matter of time.

And a dying to self. What to make of the parts of me that must die in order for my surroundings to remain status quo? The parts of me that are bursting to be let out, but that will upset the homeostasis? Figurative death. Its residue is thick and sticky, hot and suffocating.

And what makes death so taboo? Why might it be upsetting for you to read this? To consider my thoughts about death? To consider your own thoughts about death? Your own figurative deaths and the literal deaths that surround you daily? Why am I so afraid of them?

Red in tooth and claw, we come at last to a fierce and painful city, to the bloody, unobliging reciprocity in which life lives by death, but still insists that death is robbery. (Robert Farrar Capon, p. 48).

Life must have death to be life. I believe that the richness of life comes out of death - literally and figuratively. When we figuratively die - when we go to the valleys and are able to climb out - that is when life is lived. In spiritual terms, resurrection can't take place unless there is first a death. Yet, death still feels like robbery. Death still feels cruel. How long do we wait for resurrection?

Love, etc.

2011-07-07T17:29:00.000-07:00

A new documentary:

Summer...again.

2011-07-06T10:02:00.000-07:00

Readers, I understand that it's possible that you may get sick and tired of hearing about how much I love summer. Especially summer in Seattle. But frankly, I don't care. This place is freakin' gorgeous.

My fourth of July weekend was filled with free Neapolitan pizza, beer and magazines on the beach, kickball, cookouts on the beach, tennis, cookouts in a backyard, hard apple cider, fireworks in a park on a lake, and literally almost causing T and I to have a car accident because of how I screamed when I saw Mt. Rainier out on a clear summer day.

Summer in Seattle is like nothing else.

Today, I asked my boss if it were ok for me not to come into work. She said it was fine. What I didn't tell her was that since the forecast predicts a high of 80 degrees without a cloud in the sky, I am planning on going kayaking with my friend on a lake. We're going to paddle on over to a little island for a picnic lunch. There is no way that I could sit inside, at a stupid desk, in a tiny cubicle, in front of an awful computer screen, knowing the possibility that this day holds outside of that building. So, here's to many more days of summer.

The thirst of my mind, spirit, body, and soul is truly being quenched.

Drink, drink, drink it in.

Sip & savor.

Chug & cherish.

Book 2

2011-07-02T08:22:00.000-07:00

I started my second (probably first, official) book of the summer: Robert Farrar Capon's Supper of the Lamb. I stumbled across this gem when I was writing my theology paper about the ethics of food and have been wanting to read the whole thing ever since. I've written a bit about him before, but this guy is an Episcopalian priest and amateur chef; and should also do stand-up comedy in my opinion. He is witty, smart, clever, and brilliantly insightful about life and connecting food to theology. One of the reviews of the book says, "One of the funniest, wisest, and most unorthodox cookbooks ever written." I completely agree so far. Here is an excerpt:

There is a habit that plagues many so-called spiritual minds: they imagine that matter and spirit are somehow at odds with each other and that the right course for human life is to escape from the world of matter into some finer and purer (and undoubtedly duller) realm. To me, that is a crashing mistake - and it is, above all, a theological mistake. Because, in fact, it was God who invented dirt, onions and turnip greens; God who invented human beings, with their strange compulsion to cook their food; God who, at the end of each day of creation, pronounced a resounding "Good!" over his own concoctions. And it is God's unrelenting love of all the stuff of this world that keeps it in being at every moment. So, if we are fascinated, even intoxicated, by matter, it is no surprise: we are made in the image of the Ultimate Materialist. (xxvi)

Capon

Every word penetrates the core of my being. [Doing my best not to stand on the tremendous soap-box I have built without you noticing.] You may have heard this from me before, but I'll go there again: so many of our churches today and the great teachers of today inculcate us with the message that the world is bad. "Be in the world, not of it," from Romans has been misused, in my opinion, to teach us that loving anything on this earth too much is sinful. All of the goodness that we experience on this earth is nothing compared to what we will encounter that one glorious day that we raise up in to the heavens and really experience life. So, if that's the case, it's not that we just don't care about the things on this earth, we actually reject them - label them as sinful - so that we can sit on our rear ends and wait for the earth to explode. Or, we traverse the earth, bashing people over the head that don't think like we do because it's all part of the good, Christian mission.

God made stuff. God made people. God made difference. And he saw that it was all good.

I don't know what this means for me and my life right now, or what point I'm exactly trying to make. I especially don't know where all of this feeling came from at 8:30 in the morning. I haven't even had coffee yet!

2011-07-01T17:48:00.001-07:00

Pre-nostalgia?

2011-07-01T11:18:00.000-07:00

Can nostalgia exist before the nostalgic event happens? Is there a word for that? Last weekend I went to the Mars Hill graduation with my lovelies, Michaela and Dana, and felt nostalgic of our time in Seattle together. It kind of put me in a funky funk afterwards - imagining our time at Mars Hill coming to an end, this incredible journey that we started together, the people we've become together and separately, the loves and losses we've all experienced, the future therapists that we never thought we'd become. These two women are incredible.

And we're all real lookers.

Hot or Cold

2011-07-01T11:10:00.000-07:00

Homemade applesauce has changed my life. Winter, summer, spring, or fall.

One more

2011-07-01T07:59:00.000-07:00

I finished my book! I really didn't have that much more to go. But, in the last pages, a moving passage:

This is the most profound spiritual truth I know: that even when we're most sure that love can't conquer all, it seems to anyway. It goes down into the rat hole with us, in the guise of our friends, and there is swells and comforts. It gives us second wind, third winds, hundredth winds....When someone enters that valley with you, that mud, it somehow saves you again. At the marsh, all that mud and one old friend worked like a tenderizing mallet. Where before there had been tough fibers, hardness, and held breath, now there were mud, dirt, water, air, mess - and I felt soft and clean.

[Sadly I started this post on Wednesday when I finished the book and and written a whole lot about this quote, but then it got erased by the internet gremlins. Sad.]

And so it begins

2011-06-29T16:37:00.000-07:00

First afternoon of summer break and I have decided to start in on one of my goals - a book a week. Today, however, I decided that since it was the middle of the week, it would be a perfect week to finish a book that I started several months ago: Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies. Here is an excerpt I read today, on family photos:

There are pictures of the people in my family where we look like the most awkward and desperate folk you ever saw, poster children for the human condition. But I like that, when who we are shows. Everything is usually so masked or perfumed or disguised in the world, and it's so touching when you get to see something real and human. I think that's why most of us stay close to our families, no matter how neurotic the members, how deeply annoying or dull - because when people have seen you at your worst, you don't have to put on the mask as much. And that gives us license to try on that radical hat of liberation, the hat of self-acceptance; we're allowed to escape from underneath one of the fatwas.

Amen. I love her. So wise (and SO hilarious). Interestingly enough I think someone told me recently that I have a writing style like Anne Lamott. It was one of the biggest compliments I've ever received. But the more I think about it, I think I may have dreamed it. Either way, I think that's important to pay attention to: the fact that being compared to Anne Lamott is (or would be, if it were real) one of the biggest compliments I could ever receive.

2011-06-29T15:45:00.000-07:00

Here's to anticipating...

(Yes, this is actually in Washington; it's called Ruby Beach)

...summer break!

Self-Care Goals

2011-06-28T07:19:00.000-07:00

Goals for this summer (so far):

Read a book a week - FOR PLEASURE! Although, sometimes pleasure books can be school/psychology/therapy related (I think that's a good thing)
Cook one new recipe a week
Go to AT LEAST one concert
Be active!

I'm still writing my paper - can you tell I'm now in fantasy-procrastination mode???

The procrastination the devil made

2011-06-27T18:12:00.000-07:00

I want to retract an earlier statement. When I said that getting an extension on a paper is "never bad news," that was a lie. It can be extremely bad news when the paper is due a week after you've finished your last class and you want nothing more than to be using your brain to concentrate on magazines and trashy television. Meaning: I don't want to use my brain at all. I have a final paper due Wednesday, that I've taken MAYBE two pages of notes for, and I just can't make it happen.

This is a different kind of procrastination than the one I spoke of a few weeks ago. Oh, this is a monster. This kind of procrastination is an uncontrollable, volatile force that can swallow me whole. This procrastination taunts me with food, causing me to eat anything and everything that my pantry contains in a split second. This procrastination is the carpel tunnel in my fingers and wrists from being on the computer for hours, even days, and still having nothing to show for it. Ohhh, this procrastination is the worst kind of evil. It sweeps in, unexpectedly, until I have wasted every last moment doing nothing, when I've had all the time in the world. This procrastination stabs me straight in the heart when my classmates tell me, "I finished the paper in one sitting. It just took a couple hours."

2011-06-23T19:35:00.001-07:00

It's nice to have company when I'm writing papers.

And literally, as I typed this out, Jazzy jumped off the couch. Dadgum. Never predictable!

2011-06-22T20:50:00.001-07:00

I am so tired.

eth-ik pt. 2

2011-06-20T15:38:00.000-07:00

Today was our final Ethics class; it felt like being birthed into blinding daylight from the dark, warm comfort of a womb. So grateful, but so terrified. Here are some quotes I am left chewing on and metabolizing:

Yesterday I met a whole man. It is a rare experience, but always an illuminating and ennobling one. It costs so much to be a full human being that there are very few who have the enlightenment, or the courage, to pay the price…one has to abandon altogether the search for security, and reach out to the risk of living with both arms. One has to embrace the world like a lover, and yet demand no easy return of love. One has to accept pain as a condition of existence. One has to court doubt and darkness as the cost of knowing. One needs a will stubborn in conflict, but apt always to the total acceptance of every consequence of living and dying. – Morris West

Jewish wisdom sanctions the yearning, even ennobles it, at the same time teaching that there is no meaning: only a kind of dance between meaning and ambiguity; understanding and misunderstanding; faith and doubt; essence and no-essence. And the more joyous the dance, the richer and more holy the life. – Irwin Kula

Doubt is a prerequisite for any meaningful journey. – Irwin Kula

Please read those. Maybe close your eyes for ten seconds after you read each one. They are so beautiful.

Still working on this burden of a paper - trying to articulate my personal/professional ethic. Trying not to feel completely overwhelmed. Trying to figure out what words, coherent words, I have to articulate my hopes, fears, dreams, ambivalence, paralysis, terror, responsibility, helplessness, naivete, childlike enthusiasm of going into this work.

US Open Wrap-Up

2011-06-19T07:41:00.000-07:00

First of all, my US Open wardrobe (all shirts provided by Polo, with the US Open 2011 logo in the corner):

Sunday: I had enough energy to attempt looking cute.

Hair scarf, skinny black pants, and TOMS. I got some

weird looks on the golf course - I think I looked a little

too Seattle for their liking.

Monday: Didn't know these shorts had gotten too big

so I was hiking them up all day because there are no

belt loops. Also, the navy shirt has a kelly green collar.

Tuesday: Hadn't washed my hair in 4 days. I didn't have

strands left, it was just one big chunk of greasy hair. I had the

potential to make this look cute, but I was freezing all day and

had become very fatigued at this point. Light pink shirt

and olive colored skirt; I was worried that the skirt wasn't close

enough to my knees and that I would get in trouble on the golf course.

Wednesday: Last day on the course - can you tell? First of

all, these pants look like culottes and I'm giving them away

after realizing that on this trip. The Carolina blue polo

was a highlight of my week until I put it on - not flattering;

hence, the jacket over top.

Thursday: sight-seeing with Blaire, Thomas, and Grandma Gornik

Little T taking photos of Lincoln. He was REALLY into

good ol' Abe - he kept saying that Abe should be on the

dime instead of the penny because he's worth more than a penny.

Ha!

Just the spot where MLK Jr. gave the "I have a dream" speech.

No big deal.

Little T and Blaire

Just walking

Me, Little T, and Blaire in front of the Washington Monument.

Family photos like this seem to always look a bit awkward.

WWII Memorial

A little metro

Coming out of the "bowels of the earth" as Grandma G

called it.

Loved these signs.

So that's all the photos from the week. I already posted about my travel traumas so you can just know that I am finally home and REALLY happy about it. The weather in Seattle is awful and I don't care. Also, I found out that one of my final papers was pushed back a few days later than I thought - never bad news.

Last night, I couldn't hold my eyes open past 8 o'clock; literally it felt like I was on drugs. I couldn't walk straight or stand up easily; I was quite wobbly. I went to bed and woke up around 6am. Not ideal, but whatever. It was so nice to sleep in my own bed in my city in my apartment with my hubby and my kitty.

Hot mess

2011-06-17T19:07:00.000-07:00

So, I'm still at Blaire and Michael's apartment. It's Friday night. I was supposed to be in Seattle in a mere matter of hours. Today was a bit traumatic. Got to the DC airport at 2:30 because Pat's mom had an earlier flight so Blaire just brought both of us. I thought I would be in the airport for four and half hours till my flight at 7. No biggie. Sat at my gate for a good two hours talking on the phone to two of the best people on earth, when I realized the little screen at my gate had changed destinations - mine wasn't up there anymore. Looked at the stupid TV's with all the flight and they had delayed my flight an hour and had also changed the gate. They changed the gate so far that I had to go out of the terminal and back through freakin' security. So I did that and found my new gate. But then I realized that the delay might affect my layover - was it possible that I wouldn't make my second flight from Philly to Seattle? I called T, already highly agitated, and he suggested I go to customer service to figure it out. 50 other customers and 45 minutes later, the young lad at customer service says, "What time do you want to fly out tomorrow? 5:45 or 7am?" I said, "Excuse me?" "Tomorrow. What time?"

Oh yea.

So I picked 5:45 because at the moment, I wanted to get to Seattle as soon as humanly possible. I thought walking might be faster. Now I'm regretting 5:45am, but whatever. So he prints my new boarding passes and I say, "So is there a shuttle to a hotel or something?" "Excuse me?" "Transportation. Do I have a way to get to my hotel? Is there a hotel?" "Uh, no." [Eyes watering]. He says, "Do you know someone here? You can either stay with someone or stay at the airport." "Ok." [My voice cracks.]

So I load my gigantic bookbag onto my shoulders for the umpteenth time that day and instead of picking up my gigantic duffle bag to put over my shoulders, all I can do is drag it. I call Blaire's husband Michael, trying not to cry, and tell him that my flight won't be leaving till tomorrow. He says he'll come get me. So I drag my stupid duffle bag all the way back out of another terminal, literally on the ground, the whole entire way to baggage claim. Oh I was so upset. I got in the elevator, and bursted out crying. For about 3 seconds. Then stopped when the doors opened. Then I plopped on a seat at baggage claim in front of one of those news kiosks and lots of magazines, and cried a lot more. I just wanted to be home. Then I called T and my mom. Oh I looked so pitiful that the lady running the kiosk came up to me and asked if I needed help. THAT pitiful. Once I was off the phone, she dragged my stuff a couple of seats over, pointed, and said, "Sit," so the sun wouldn't be in my eyes. I cried a little more. She came back over and said, "Why you cry?" "I don't want to be here!" And she walked away. I thought, "Oh I'm too much. Oh what a hot mess of a 20-something year old woman - crying for absolutely no reason. I made her walk away!" She came back over with an apple and banana and held them out to me. "It's ok, take it. No problem." Sniffling, I took them and said, "Thank you." "Relax. No problem." Then, she came over with a Diet Coke and said, "You like this one? Take it, no problem." Bless her soul. After dealing with some customers, she came back and handed me a receipt for Camel cigarettes and said, "If anyone ask you - show this. No problem." What a gem! Giving me a fake receipt! Finally, she came over and sat down next to me and we talked about her kids and how much she misses her home country of Ethiopia. We talked about how to make a marriage last; she said, "No lying. No cheating. He take care of you, you take care of him. He a strong man, you a strong woman." She mentioned that she thought Maria Shriver and Hilary Clinton were strong women. She was so CUTE! Then, as I was leaving she said, "When you cry, I am so sad! Be happy."

So, I wish I were in Seattle. But I got to talk to that sweet lady from Ethiopia and also to Blaire and Michael some more. It will be ok.

ThisisstreamofconsciousnessanditmaynotmakeanysenseIhavetowakeupat3:30am.

eth-ik

2011-06-15T05:52:00.000-07:00

I've been trying to work on my final paper for Ethics while working at the Open - it's tough to concentrate in the midst of both chaos and fatigue, so I haven't accomplished much. The prompt for the paper is to articulate my personal ethic as a practicing clinician - and as a human being. As I'm trying to get started, I realize I don't particularly know how to answer that. I'm not sure what Ethics means or what an ethic is.

[eth-ik] 1. the body of moral principles or values governing ordistinctive of a particular culture or group; 2. a complex of moral precepts held or rules of conduct followed by an individual

Ok. Where to start?

I'm starting with Annie Rogers, who writes in A Shining Affliction:

What has been wounded in a relationship must be, after all, healed in a relationship.

That's my launching pad. That's my diving board. I'm not sure where to go from there, but I know that her words are ones that I will stand on forever. This is my work both as a professional and as a human being. Now, onto this paper...(yea, right).

Is it time?

2011-06-14T05:29:00.000-07:00

Only one more day of waking up at 4:30am. Did you know that 4:30am Eastern time is 1:30am West Coast time? Well, it is. And that's what time I've been waking up. Did you know that's early? Well, it is.

I have lofty plans of staying up until midnight tomorrow, the first night that I don't have to get up early the next morning. That way, I will go to bed at 9:00 West Coast time and hopefully can get myself back on track for when I fly back to Seattle to head into finals. I say lofty because I'll want to go to bed as soon as we leave this golf course.

The championship officially starts Thursday - Monday through Wednesday are practice days - and I don't know who to root for. I really have nothing to go by other than the caddies. So, maybe I'll cheer for Brian Locke because his caddie was extra nice and I know it's the first Open for both Brian and his caddie, Mitchel. Mitchel was REALLY excited to be here. I'm also interested to see what happens with Adam Scott, who picked up Tiger's former caddie, Steve Williams. That has been an interesting little tidbit of drama since Tiger has pulled out of his first Open championship in his professional career. But, hey, Steve's gotta get paid.

So do I. And as much as I love talking to all of these new and interesting people, I'm a little tired of small talk. I'm just tired. And small talk takes a lot of energy to maintain.

[Whine.]

With all due respect to the game

2011-06-13T05:12:00.000-07:00

In honor of the US Open, here are some of the best outfits I could find via the world wide web.

Well done, good sirs. I hope fashion served you well in your careers.

Culture of culture

2011-06-12T14:38:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how culture can suck you in. First full day at the US Open, and I have already caught myself believing it's the most important thing in the world. I feel somewhat ashamed when I admit that I don't play or watch golf; the response is typically utter bewilderment. This is truly a culture - its own little microcosm of a universe inside the world. Eat, sleep, breathe, live, relate, die, work US Open.

While I sit here and read case studies for my Ethics class and take an online class for HIV/AIDS and Communicable Diseases.

And every time someone has asked what I do, and I tell them I'm studying Counseling-Psychology, they immediately ask if I'm analyzing them.

Ok!

Make it happen, please.

2011-06-05T14:27:00.000-07:00

Found here.

Natalie - this post and photo exist entirely for you. I saw this dresser and had to share! I'll buy it from you if you make it.

"For Meg, Leaving Home"

2011-06-05T09:06:00.001-07:00

Lights on everywhere, except where I am sitting

Writing this first letter since you left,

Knowing that what I write, I will not send –

That one comes later, full of cheerful news;

This is the one I have to write to me.

Once you were all promise, flower in the bud,

Sitting like Buddha on your yellow rug,

Catching the sun’s motes with your fingers,

Your thoughts mysterious, wordless; and I felt

Nothing could come between you and the light.

But now I know first child has more to break

Than barriers of blood and bone; the soul’s old pain,

The dark confusions of the blood, remain;

And all that karmic legacy broods still

Over the sunrise of your going forth.

Today I cleared your room of those old treasures

You could not bear to put away yourself:

Flotsam of empty bottles, unburned candles,

Paper flowers faded from the sun,

Buckles, yellow stockings, birthday cards;

And when I had finished the room stood stripped of your presence

Except for one orange flower and a Van Gogh print;

I felt like a nurse with an antiseptic bottle

Tidying up after death, removing all traces,

Putting what’s left behind in boxes;

And my throat was thick with the things I could never say,

Or even if I had, you could not have listened to;

And you are sent out on that same exhausting journey

Through wrong choices, false love. Yet for love’s sake

I hurl you into the universe, and pray.

- Netta Gillespie

Came across this poem this morning and thought it was beautiful.

Summer

2011-06-05T08:55:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure my favorite day of the whole year is the day that I get to move out my winter clothes and move in my summer clothes. I did that this morning after tending to my slightly burnt shoulders and loved every second.

Here's to sunglasses, freckles, being outside at night without a jacket, tan lines, Arnold Palmer's, exposed arms/toes/legs, the sound of flip flops flapping, and having a reason to paint my toenails. I love summer.

2011-06-03T07:57:00.000-07:00

In my PJ's on the couch, sipping on my cup of coffee, and being warmed not by blankets, but by the sun shining so brightly through my windows that I need sunglasses.

That's a good morning.

Image found here.

All I need is one of each of these: a porch and a porch swing - er, bed.

2011-06-01T22:35:00.000-07:00

choosing to believe it.

2011-06-01T07:35:00.002-07:00

P.S. Happy June!

2011-06-01T07:35:00.000-07:00

I've been testing out a new approach to paper writing. This really proves how far I'm testing. Since I usually take a painstakingly significant amount of time to write papers, I've tried waking up the morning they're due and writing them before class. Some may call this procrastination. I'm calling it efficiency. Some may even believe that my writing this blog post while I should be working on the paper that's due in two and a half hours would be crazy. I call it experimentation.

I have to get it done, right?

An hour an a half: GO!

2011-05-30T22:02:00.000-07:00

Found here.

2011-05-30T20:41:00.001-07:00

and i love my cat.

can't stop daydreaming

2011-05-30T20:39:00.000-07:00

Don't know if you know - you probably don't - but T and I dream of opening our own restaurant one day. We talk about it a lot, especially when we eat out at restaurants now because we discuss what we do and don't like about their restaurant to give ourselves ideas. We also have a running list of places that we want to go visit to get good ideas as well as a list of ones that we want to sit down with the owners/chefs/restaurant people and have a little chat with. Maybe over some coffee. Or beer.

We dream about the garden we'll grow, chickens we'll house, menu we'll create, and the community that we'll serve. We try to imagine what the first steps would look like - getting small business loans, learning a thing or two about business, trying to figure out if we need a degree of some sort to do what we want to do, who our donors will hopefully be, which includes predicting which of our friends will become rich and, thus, becoming friends that we can mooch off of.

We (maybe I) even have a location picked out already:

This is the McCracken-Mize house in Durham (read about it by clicking here). When I first spotted it a couple of months ago (yes, it's actually been on the market that long), I wanted to live in it - and still do. But as we've been talking more and more about the restaurant, I think I've decided to sacrifice it for that purpose instead. It's perfect for how we imagine our restaurant to be set up. Plus, it's absolutely gorgeous - especially with a little t.l.c. To make matters better, it's owned by the Methodist Church next door (we grew up Methodist), who want a nice couple to move in that are committed to community. Oh yea. And to make it even better, there was an article written about it in which there were both church people and gay people commenting on the wonders of this one lovely house in need of owners in an up-and-coming neighborhood - and for that to be found in a North Carolina newspaper is solid gold for T and I.

Now we just have to figure out how exactly to get $350,000. No biggie. Especially with my school loans spinning us into an endless cycle of debt.

Still - a girl can dream.

"of love"

2011-05-23T12:12:00.000-07:00

i have been in love more times than one,
thank the Lord. sometimes it was lasting
whether active or not. sometimes
it was all ephemeral, maybe only
an afternoon, but not less real for that.
they stay in my mind, these beautiful people,
or anyway people beautiful to me, of which
there are so many. you, and you, and you,
whom i had the fortune to meet, or maybe
missed. love, love, love, it was the
core of my life, from which, of course, comes
the word for the heart. and, oh, have i mentioned
that some of them were men and some were women
and some - now carry my revelation with you -
were trees. or places. or music flying above
the names of their makers. or clouds, or the sun
which was the first, and the best, the most
loyal for certain, who looked so faithfully into
my eyes, every morning. so i imagine
such love of the world - its fervency, its shining, its
innocence and hunger to give of itself - i imagine
this is how it began.

- mary oliver

2011-05-14T15:21:00.000-07:00

this is the cutest, saddest, most randomly funny little video. quirky - just how i like 'em.

A Love Story… In Milk from Catsnake on Vimeo.

2011-05-13T18:00:00.001-07:00

Symmetry from Everynone on Vimeo.

solid.

2011-05-13T17:52:00.000-07:00

ten things i have learned about the sea from lorenzo fonda on Vimeo.

my favorites are numbers 5 and 6.

and 7 and 8 together.

Sometimes I hate my cat because she's so cute

2011-05-13T17:30:00.000-07:00

Yes, she's nuzzling my face while standing on my back.