365 coffees

On October 1st, I started a new project. As part of my 101 things in 1,001 days list, I'm finally tackling the 365 photo a day challenge. This is probably meant to start on January 1st, but... Oh well. It makes me feel just that much more human to have one tiny little thing I can do every day. After talking with Ali, she decided to join in too! So while she's taking a picture of her tea every day, I'll be taking a picture of my coffee. Because... "mommy" needs her coffee. "Mommy" will have her coffee (or nine) every. single. day. Of course, now I'm wondering... how many ways can you photograph something you take pretty much the same way each morning? Is this too boring? Whatever! I'm accomplishing a thing! I am doing a thing! I am not failing at a thing!

October 1, 2013

October 2, 2013

October 3, 2013

October 4, 2013

October 5, 201

October 6, 2013

October 7, 2013

How about you, dear readers? Any little projects up your puffed sleeves? (sorry, I've got Anne of Green Gables on the brain... it's a fall forever thing)

Terrible idea... Don't you just love those?

The quote is from Under the Tuscan Sun (which I luuuuurrrrrrv for inexplicable reasons (I want to remodel a villa in Tuscany, ok?!)) and while it wasn't necessarily a terrible idea... You know what I love? Last minute decisions. I made one last night and it involved some major SWERVING of the ultra cool mini van. Here are the results:

Some people think it's really cheesy. But I've been documenting where my feet have wandered off to since college. And you know what? "I like corny. I'm looking for corny in my life." Anyway...

I was walking along thinking, 'It's amazing what you can do with twenty minutes! Why have I never done this before?' All that rushing around? This is what I need in between. A breather. I'd walked down for a stretch, eyed the clock and saw it was time to turn around, and when I did...

AHHHHDFKSJDFLKSJDLFKSDL!!!!!!!!! There was a rainbow! I started squealing. I threw my hands up in the air. I began laughing. Maybe did a jig. Said, "Oh God!" over and over, because I just couldn't believe it. And then I squinted a little harder and saw that...

It was really a double rainbow! A DOUBLE RAINBOW! Man! God is good. It was such a special moment. Normally, I'd have been holed up in a coffee shop passing the time, but something made me turn to the beach instead and I'm so glad I did.

I only wish I'd had a proper camera on me to capture it all better, because every which way looked sensational.

I mean...

HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I just want to encourage you to be impulsive! Really! If you hear a little voice telling you to turn in the opposite direction or order something different or smile at that complete stranger, just do it and see what happens. Who knows? You might find yourself ankle deep in the ocean, staring down a double rainbow.

Lizard! LIZARD! Sloth! SLOTH!

Warning: this might just be the most incoherent babble you've heard all day.

I try not to throw the word hate around too much lest it lose its poignancy, but I hate lizards. HATE. What you call irrational fear, I call perfectly justifiable SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER WHILE STANDING ON THE KITCHEN TABLE. Living on an island, there are all kinds of slithery creatures that I inevitably come face to face with on a daily basis. It's pretty gross.

This weekend, I was rolling the trash can back up to the side of the house, when I stopped three feet away from the gate. Just a sudden *gasp*/*HALT* moment. Something felt horribly wrong in the universe. Had I left a teenager somewhere? Had I stepped outside without any clothes on? No. There was a lizard on the gate latch. A lizard. A! LIZ! ARD! It was hiding on the side of the handle closest to the gate, but I saw its creepy-crawly little feetsies peeking around the edges. But then, the green little demon creature pulled itself around and actually turned its head to look at me with its beady little demon eyes. Oh it was disgusting! It was so so horrible! It saw straight through to my lizard-hating soul and made my insides burn with images of all the wretched things it was going to do to my house as payback. Needless to say, I ran away with the speed of an antelope with a pack of lions at its heels and abandoned the trash can for a few hours till it felt safe again.

I know this is a weird analogy, but just bear with me here... There's a lot going on in my life. Good, bad, ugly, just... a lot. And it's mostly good, I've got to say! But wrangling ten teenagers takes it out of me. I'm exhausted all the time and when I'm exhausted, I tend to get sloppy. Like maybe my first reaction when plans change is a negative thought. Or a kid will say something rude and instead of thinking, 'He's 14, he doesn't know what he's saying!' I find myself crying in my room. This is what last week looked like. Just a whole lot of feeling tired, overwhelmed, challenged, and, I hate to say it, but bitter. I'm not proud of it.

So when they were all off at a tournament this weekend, right after I'd stared down a green stealth monster from the pits of Hell, I had a thought... Why have all these mishaps and misunderstandings seemed so bad? So omnipresent? And I realized... I was allowing them to be a metaphorical lizard in my life. I let the dread seep in so deep that I was hypersensitive to it, maybe even looking for it even if I didn't have that feeling that something was about to go wrong. How messed up is that? Fearing hiccups and a smart-mouthed jumble of raging hormones is no way to live.

THIS IS THE BEST THING THAT'S EVER HAPPENED TO ME! (x)

I'm not going to beat myself up about it, but I am going to do something about it. And I'm starting with, why don't you start looking at the good things like a "good lizard"? But since there's no such thing as a good lizard, let's go with... a sloth. Like a magical sloth! Just like I have an irrational fear of lizards, I have an equally irrational love for sloths. Which came looooong before Kristen Bell took all the sloth-loving credit in this world, mmmk? GOSH. But back to the sloths... Man oh man do I love them! I like to think that if I was anywhere near a sloth, I would just feel it! So that's what I'm doing. I'm looking for sloths instead of lizards. I'm making time for sloths (bubble baths), I've got my eyes peeled for sloths (tirelessly happy dogs on the beach), I'm anticipating sloths (homemade frappuccinos with Ali), I'm hoping for sloths (impromptu One Direction dance parties in the car with my girlies), I'm starting to do more and more sloth things to keep me nice and rested and sloth-y. And maybe I'm just going to start being somebody's sloth. I'm going to be someone you can count for a little bit of sloth; a compliment, a cookie, a hug, a listening ear, whatever it is. I want the people in my life to feel like I'm there for them even if it's just in spirit, anticipating their needs, wishing good things for them for them before they even tell me what's going on their life. 

What I'm very inarticulately trying to get at is... what if we started living like the trees bordering this road called Life were full of sloths instead of lizards? What would that kind of living look like?

I was listening to Rick Steves...

So those little things I was telling you about? Well one of them is "Travel with Rick Steves," which is a radio show I discovered a few weeks ago as I was driving around listening to NPR. Of course, the name Rick Steves is one I'm quite familiar with, but I never knew he had a show. Lo and behold, I stumbled across it and he and some guests were discussing artwork in Ireland. Hello! I love Ireland. I was instantly hooked. I groaned pulling up to the house; I didn't want it to be over. So I ran inside and discovered that you can download all his shows in podcast format on iTunes. Hallelujah!

Not only does he have interesting guests discussing interesting places (three topics per episode), but every time I listen to it, I'm reminded of someone in my life. Some of my best travel memories and dreams have special people attached to them and I always find myself writing little notes to the people I'm reminded of after listening. I think that's what sets this show apart. Listening to it is such a treat. Honestly, I can't recommend it highly enough; I'm riveted every episode for more reasons than I can count.

So when my family came to visit this weekend, 50% of what came out of my mouth started with, "I was listening to Rick Steves..." It's got all my creative juices flowing whether it's mentally planning out a future trip thanks to wanderlust or finding story inspiration in the charming tales of B&Bs related by listeners calling in. In short, it has me thinking of things other than tennis and hormonal teenagers. It's an escape. Don't you just love those? Things that remind you of what you have an appetite for?

One from the archives! Here we are on some cliffside village in the South of France wayyyy back in 2007.

As you all know, my best friend Ali lives just down the road from me. Adventurous, quirky, bold, and brilliant, she's always on the same page as me and is, thus, my travel buddy of choice. Together, there's no stone we'll leave unturned i.e. no awkward experience to be shied away from. I distinctly remember chasing after her down the streets of Paris as she chased after American tourists, trying to find out where they'd gotten their pizza. They ran away from us very fast, thinking we were gypsies. I mean... because of course they did! Even a humbling lesson on how to order our first adult drinks in a cramped bar in Edinburgh was the stuff of legend. It's ridiculous mishaps like these that make us roar with laughter as much now as they did then so great. And she and I have a little travel-related project tucked up our sleeve that I hope very much to be sharing here soon. A creative outlet! I can't tell you how excited I am!

So thank you, Rick Steves, for a little shove in the right direction! But man oh man... what do I do with all this wanderlust?!

P.S. Let me know if you give the podcast a listen!

les petites choses

Well! Needless to say I have not yet perfected this juggling act. Me time? What's that? It sounds positively delightful! If I can steal an hour- nay! five minutes away for myself, I consider it a triumph. Exhausting as all that may be, I have come to savor these stolen moments even more. The little things are so much sweeter to me now. 

The little things I love most all seem to start and end at the beach, or rather, the ocean. I like to stand there, take out my headphones, and just look out and feel small and big all at once.

If it's a day where I've guzzled down three cups of coffee to no desired effect, the waves crashing at my feet rejuvenate me like some fountain on youth. More and more, I'm trying to incorporate this into my daily routine whether it's quiet time, my morning run, or a nice long walk with my best friend. I love it there. I love it, love it, love it. Ah! Just leave me there, will you? I want more evenings that look like this...

 

Other than that it's getting library cards, making up frappuccino recipes with Ali, squeezing in a classic film, fro-yo runs with the girls, the boys asking for advice or how my day went, new Coldplay songs, Skype dates, and peanut butter. And so I'm magnifying all these tiny little things so I don't fall under the weight of all the big things. Some days even positivity takes an enormous amount of effort and energy, though, so wish me luck with those silver linings! 

I'm Mr. Napkin-Head!

Ok, not quite. But you know that bit in The Holiday? "I'm a guy who reads parenting books and cookbooks before I go to sleep. I spend my weekends buying tutus. I'm learning to sew. I'm Mr. Napkin Head! I'm on some kind of constant overload..." That. Replace tutus with tennis balls and I'd say that's pretty spot on. Because somehow, in a seemingly random yet entirely deliberate course of events, I became responsible for a pack of teenagers. Their meals, rides to practice, live-in support system... it's all me. And being a 26 year-old who was just asked in the binder aisle at Staples if I was in middle school, I can only say what. the. heck.

Life is crazy. Preaching to the choir, I know, but it seems to be the motto of this year and this summer in particular. Hence the terrible lack of posts! I'm sorry! I've just been treading water ever since I got here. But who am I kidding? I am still treading water! No wonder you start with babies! Suddenly being responsible for ten teenagers? This is equal parts I-am-having-so-much-fun-getting-to-know-them-and-this-is-my-non-desk-job-and-eat-my-dust-this-is-fantastic and dear-God-what-have-I-done-I-cannot-do-this-and-you-must-be-joking. There were tears in the beginning. Many, many tears. But I've been so blessed. Challenged each and every day, every single hour, but blessed. It can be awkward and frustrating; I'm so used to it just being me and the weight of this responsibility is staggering. And, yes, sometimes I find myself crying over eggplants (side note: because I'm always seizing the opportunity to quote Bridget Jones' Diary, "To Bridget who cannot cook, but who we love just as she is!"). But then I'll randomly have a breakthrough... Like tonight I found myself drawing out the quietest girl in my little brood and it was lovely and encouraging and it made me so excited to be doing what I'm doing. Building relationships, making a positive impact... It makes the not being easy so worth it.

And let me tell you... the amount of story inspiration I'm getting from being around these tireless kiddos 24/7? It's insane! I'm just marinating in their highs, lows, hopes and dreams, and everything that makes them tick. And, gosh darn it, when I finally get this schedule figured out and can pencil in some quality me time, my pen will be a thing to be reckoned with!

Anyway, just wanted to check in after an absurd hiatus with some happier news and also... A DESPERATE PLEA FOR EASY PEASY RECIPES! Have I been living off the same five recipes for the whole of my twenties? I always thought I was a pretty decent cook, but... creating weekly menus?? Not so much. Anything in a slow-cooker would be just graaaaaaaaaand! Help! Gracias! Ciao!

P.S. More soon! I mean it and I promise!

P.P.S. AHHHHHHHHHH LIFE!!!!!!

a time for everything

¹ There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

²     a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
³     a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
⁴     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
⁵     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
⁶     a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
⁷     a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
⁸     a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace.

-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 

As everything continues to feel like it's happening all at once, this passage has been a real comfort to me. The past few weeks I've been making changes, preparing for a new life down South. I've been full of anticipation, daydreaming of of all things new; friendships, old fashioned bicycles, salty sea breezes, and sunsets. Every conversation screamed life. And then, just like that... my grandma passed away. 

I never once heard my grandad call her Gloria. She was always his "Gogie." And I always loved that.

After a lifetime spent on opposite ends of the east coast, I was blessed enough to spend the past two years just half an hour away from her. For as long as I can remember, she has been a golden example of the kind of person I want to be. She was relentlessly generous, quick to smile, invested, always sunny. In short, she lived that simple life I'm hoping for; one centered on faith, family, friendships, and a sweet tooth for the little things. She demonstrated love. I can't think of a single life event she wasn't there for, always making the long trip down from Pittsburgh. She made everyone feel special. Even sitting across from her in a crowded diner, splitting a plate of french fries, her eyes sparkled as she told me old stories and made me feel like they were secrets just between the two of us. It's one of my favorite memories of her. I just remember hearing her talk about her youth and meeting my grandad and thinking, 'Wow. She's really something,' hoping that maybe someday someone would think the same of me.

It's easy to look at the life she led and the person she was and be completely overwhelmed. I've admitted it before and it's no different now even though I know she had 61 years on me, but I struggle with comparisons. It seems ridiculous that I would even fleetingly compare my chapter in life with the final page of hers, but there it is. I'm flawed. Right down to my core, I long for all that she had; the love story, the family, her ability to instantly make you feel at home, the magic touch she had with soups. And it's hard not to look at all that and not be frustrated with that feeling that I'm just... stuck. Perpetually stuck. Like I'm never going to be like that. Like I'm always going to be on my own. Normally I wouldn't share this because it's just plain embarrassing to show how messy your heart is, how broken you are, that you're struggling every day, but I feel like... I should for some reason! I don't know! As a single lady, it's all too easy to wallow and quote Bridget Jones' Diary: "I suddenly realized that unless something changed soon I was going to live a life where my major relationship was with a bottle of wine... and I'd finally die, fat and alone, and be found three weeks later half-eaten by wild dogs." If you're in my shoes and this kind of thought never crosses your mind, then let's hang out, because I'd like that to rub off on me! I want so badly to get un-stuck. How do you get the kind of life you want when it seems to depend on so many people other than you? When you're not exactly the one in control?

And that! Right there. That's my weakness. It doesn't depend on me, it doesn't depend on other people, it rests entirely on God's shoulders. How quick I am to forget. Not only that He has me right where He wants me, but that there is truth in those words. "There is a time for everything." Life can feel like it's happening all at once, but there's a season for every little thing. There's no rush. After all, the passage goes on to say... 

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it." -Ecclesiastes 3:11-14

He has made everything beautiful in its time. Everything. Every. single. thing. Time flies, time crawls, but God is the time-keeper. He has planted holy desires in your heart for a reason and when-- when, not if-- they are fulfilled, you will understand the utter perfection of His timing. If the desires of your heart come from God, why do you fear and tremble? God is love and love never quits, so you do the math. Side note: I'm preaching to myself here. 

The life I want is not the prize. A partner and witness to my life is not the prize. God is the prize. Through all these changing seasons, I will take heart and focus on that. Some days it might feel like I'm being dragged backwards, going in the direction completely opposite to the one I'm hoping to go in. But an arrow must be dragged backwards in order to go forward, released at precisely the right moment to hit its mark.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time." God's ways are lovelier than mine. He's proven this time and time again. He has given every cause for rejoicing. The life of a loved one, a family that surrounds, friends that support, the promise of His unfailing faithfulness. He has an everlasting love for you that you cannot fathom, a way carved out for you that is far and above your wildest dreams. Trust it. Trust Him. Be still. Be at peace. And just be the kind of person who's really something. Because you are. You already are.

"The Lord will fight for you; you need only be still." -Exodus 14:14

a simple life

That's the realization I've come to over the past few weeks... I want a simple life. A full-to-the-brim life packed tight with good people, good places, good food, good plans and intentions... but simple. In the past two years, I've accumulated a lot of grand clutter in my life. But with that life-changing, "Ok, God," when it came to making the decision a few weeks ago not to go to grad school, there came a word loud and clear above the rest: simplify. So while I let Plan A shift into focus, I took a little more and much needed me time away from the blog.

When I say everything happened at once, I mean everything. I've cried more in the past few weeks than I have in the whole of the past year; happy tears, confused tears, delirious, and grief-stricken. So much was being orchestrated at the same time and I couldn't tell what was going on, but the skies are clearing up now and I've got to say... It looks so good! The short story goes like this: I turned in my notice at both jobs and, thanks to a tip-off and recommendation from my best friend Ali, I now have a job working with teenagers lined up in August back down South where I belong. Last week, I was standing on the beach in Hilton Head with Ali, who I hadn't seen in person for a ridiculous three years, watching the sun rise. We stood in the waves and the morning light before I set off to accept the job offer and I just burst out laughing. God was having a cheeky 'I told you so' moment with me, triumphing in His Plan A for my life. And I was so overwhelmed with His faithfulness. All things came together; He had orchestrated it all in such a short amount of time. His plan was infinitely better than mine. Obviously. I had no idea that this was what I wanted, but on that beach that morning, I saw it was exactly what I needed. Good people? Check! Good place? Check! Happy? Check! etc.

Things are finally starting to settle down a bit, so I just wanted to check-in and say, 'Hey, I'm alive!' yet again. Thanks for hanging in there with me and for all your prayers and encouragement! Hopefully, I'll be around a bit more in the near future when the bulk of the chaos subsides. Until then, let's raise a toast to sweet tea, starry nights, BFFs, and beach sounds. Cheers!

and the peace

And so... it turns out my own life is riddled with PLOT TWISTS. For being a writer, I really am terrible about guessing what happens next in a story. I'm always shocked. Always. It's a bit embarrassing, really. So the fact that the same turns out to be true in my real life is no real surprise, but still a shock to the system. Something happened last week and it was a doozie. And now it's time to explain my radio silence...

Now I can finally tell you that all the cryptic blog posts of the past few months were regarding making a decision on whether or not to go to grad school this fall. I was accepted into an MFA Creative Writing program in New York City and after dozens of pro/con lists, too many sleepless nights to count, and enough tears to keep the Titanic afloat (minus the whole iceberg bit), I sent in my deposit and called it a day. I began making all the arrangements, getting in touch with anyone I've ever made eye contact with for their New York connections, taking on a second job to save more money... All the while, losing more sleep than ever.

In the middle of my vacation last week, I went to New York and visited the school. And just like that, every alarm bell in my head and heart began sounding off like crazy. I had this terrible foreboding feeling, one which I can only identify as the Holy Spirit, saying that the whole grand scheme was incredibly wrong for my life. I remember when I was deciding which regions to list as my preferences for teaching in France after graduation and having the same unsettling feeling. I chose to ignore it and then wound up in the Bomb Shelter. And I think we all know how that went! It wasn't New York, it wasn't the school or the program. It's just that there are two very important things I took away from my experience in France: 1) there is something to be said for gut feelings and 2) God knows what's best for my life better than I do.

Later that night I took my mom to Hillsong, which is the church I'd planned on joining upon moving to New York. In the days leading up to the trip, I'd been praying Philippians 4:7. "And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." And what were they preaching that night? Philippians 4:7. After months of inner turmoil, everything became clear and still. I had wanted so badly to make something-- granted, a good thing-- work, but it wasn't something I'd ever felt called to do. I'd wanted an out from my life in Baltimore and I concocted the most elaborate escape route possible. In my vanity, I took a lot of pride in sharing my glamorous plans with others. But one thing remained throughout the whole process and that was unrest. I had never been at peace about it. Not once. And then in the midst of a river of tears and snot (you're welcome) in the very last row at Hillsong, I handed my own selfish will for my life over to God's perfect will for my life. I still don't know what that is, but I'm at peace. There's a bit of confusion floating around to be sure, but I'm also filled with a peace and relief that truly surpasses my understanding.

So there you go! I'm still trying to process yet another life-changing decision, but... I believe God has good plans for me. Writing will always be important to me and I hope you know that I don't need an MFA to write. What I need is Christ and the path God has designed for me. As for what comes next, I got nothin'. But there's beauty in obedience even when everything else is unclear. I don't believe in Plan B. I believe in Plan A. This-- whatever this is-- is God's Plan A. I'm looking forward to it more than I can possibly say and I guess I just wanted to say... I hope you are too!

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us." - Ephesians 3:20

Le sauvetage de Paulette

As I think I mentioned earlier, this weekend I'll be flying home for my friend Danielle's wedding. I couldn't be more excited for her! She's been there for me in good times (Hanson concerts) and bad (rubber bands on braces) and is always up for a laugh whether it's huddled over the stove making crêpes in our chef-ly PJs in the middle of the night or chasing down Draco Malfoy look-a-likes at midnight Harry Potter book releases. She also happens to be my only known collaborator to date on a finished work of fiction, so I thought it might be fun to share it with you before the big day. 

I am referring, of course, to our 11th grade masterpiece for French Three, Le sauvetage de Paulette. "Saving Paulette" was our answer to the assignment to write a children's story in French. As weekly verb conjugation quizzes would attest, this was one of the few things we could really brag about in that class. We made everyone else look bad mwahaha refused to let the teacher keep and I'm so glad we did! While it's peppered with grammatical mistakes, I've always loved this story. It warms my heart so much; not just because of the story itself, but because of who I wrote it with. Danielle and I penned the nautical adventures of a brave fish named Pascal and his quest to free his little sister from the gum ball machine she accidentally swam into. 'Twas a perilous journey...

Oui! Arg!

But things turned out all right in the end... Probably due to Danielle's magnificent coloring skills!

Maybe I'm biased, but I really love Thierry the turtle's spectacles! 

One day, I would love to both write and illustrate my stories. One day, I would really like to have a getaway with Danielle to tweak this a bit for publishing. With a little McFlurry magic, surely that A+ will translate in the real world, non?

just one of those things

My memory is about as existent as my betrothal to Robin Hood. It's nothing personal, but if you remind me of conversations or events dated a week or older, chances are that I'll have no idea what you're talking about. It's why I'm so good with names and your double-cupped half-caf venti 6 pump sugar free hazelnut soy latte extra hot with no foam. 

But there's one thing I do remember and remember well and it's something my mom told me not so very long ago. Not so very long ago, I was living at home, recuperating after a year gone wrong in France. Far from the shadow of the bomb shelter and a foreign roommate who yelled at me for not drinking expired milk, I had thought that I couldn't sink any lower than where I'd been. That things could only go uphill from there. And I was wrong. My post-college character building exercises weren't quite finished as I spent some hellish months job hunting with the same kind of success I have in performing, say, a triple axel. If you need it spelled out for you: I'm from Georgia, y'all. What the h-e-double-hockey-sticks is an ice skating rink? It was a disaster. More to the point, I was a disaster. Over time, 'Why can't I land a job?' morphed into 'Why can't I open this jar of olives?' which devolved into, 'Why am I such a failure?' I was embarrassed and discouraged, beaten into a rock bottom I didn't know existed outside of the bomb shelter. And being terrified of what people would say about me with my fancy useless college degree and terrible luck, I was very good at tuning people out.

Then one day I was in the car with my mom. I, surprise, don't remember where we were or what we were doing. But she must have gauged how heartsick I was, because suddenly she was telling me to look at the rearview mirror. "Do you know why it's so small compared to the windshield?" she asked. I probably said nothing. "It's God's way of showing us to focus on the future." That got my attention. I'd spent so much time agonizing over the decisions in my past that had gotten me to where I was that I couldn't see what was right before me. That I was young and healthy with a bright future ahead, that God had good plans for me, that I had a more supportive family than a girl could hope for, that time hadn't run out to reach for the moon. 

A lot has changed since then. Good changes did come. But I still find myself thinking about what she said to me back then all the time. All. the. time. Because it's useful to look back sometimes, yes, but your life depends on looking ahead. 

So Happy Mother's Day, Mommy Moo! For all your pep talks and chicken and hot peppers, thank you. ILUSMM!

Congratu-haha-NOT!

Congratulations! Congratulations, self! Congrats. Congratty-grats. Congrats on...

• being stressed!
• worrying yourself to the point you're losing hours and hours of sleep each night!
• crying quicker than a heroine in a Thomas Hardy novel!
• perfecting your ICE QUEEN glare!
• being the one who takes it out on everyone else!
• talking more obsessively about life-ruiners like fear and doubt than life-ruiners like Benedict Cumberbatch and Tom Hiddleston!
• focusing so much on all your concerns all-at-once-and-all-the-time that you can't remember to take the butter out of the microwave and add it to the cookie dough! 
• your hot mess self!

You know what's not attractive? All these things. You know what I am right now? All these things. I kind of have to laugh so I don't cry. Over the past week, I've had this sneaky feeling creeping up from my gut that I've been playing the part of someone even I don't want to be around. It's not cute. I know in the blogging world there's this understanding that I'm supposed to cast you all under this glittery magic spell of believing I do nothing but lie on my bed reading children's literature, penning the next great one from the perch of my windowsill, and prancing around with such lightness of foot that you just might wonder if I've been sprinkled with pixie dust. Maybe it's my lifelong antithesis-of-Pinocchio-esque-behavior or the writer in me that needs to over-share tell the truth, but... oh how I hate to break the spell... this is not the case!  

Truth be told, it can be overwhelming to think of all the things I'm not. I'm not organized, I'm not prepared, I'm not on a clear path, I'm not always generous or thoughtful, I'm not someone who remembers birthdays, I'm not capable of making my way through a Julia Child recipe without calling my mom. I'm not, I'm not, I'm not. Some of these things are out of my control (Julia!!!), but there are others that I've personally provoked into stampeding over my life like a herd of wildebeest, trampling my spirit till I'm virtually unrecognizable. It's toxic! And I don't want to be full of not; I want to be full of am and will be. I want to congratulate myself for being full of hope about tomorrow instead of full of doubt. Perhaps I can't change the situations causing me such restlessness, but I can certainly change my thoughts and behavior.

"Far from what I once was, but not yet what I'm going to be." I love this quote. I love it because there's value in taking a moment to look back and have a breather. Even if looking back is a little painful. This time three years ago I was living in "the bomb shelter" in France with the sad remains of a dream kicked stone dead, nursing the most homesick heart, and the absolute loneliest I'd ever been. Compare that to where I am now and my current lot in life doesn't look so bad. It's easy to forget that certain hardships are a privilege. Certain hardships are a choice. Certain hardships give us character that matters and work to mold us into who we're going to be. So, if for no other reason than that right there, can't we take a hint from Nat King Cole and just "Smile"? Find ways to not get so overwhelmed by the big picture and take little steps to work towards change, of course, but freaking taking a chill pill and smile! After all... *sigh*... "This too shall pass."

And now, because I'm not someone who can resist a Disney pep talk and because I am just this cheesy...

Ah! I feel so much better. Asante sana squash banana! Remember who you are!

E.T. & The Sloppy Joes

Was anyone looking for a band name? Because... YOU'RE WELCOME. I know this might seem a tad strange and random, but what is a blog for if not letting people in on the things that make you you?

E.T. phone home! (x)

So something you may not know about me is that my whole life I have had an aversion to the following things:

1. E.T.
2. sloppy joes

The story goes a little something like this: My mom, bless her, wanted to have a fun girl's night in when we were elementary school kiddos. She was going to introduce is us to the magical world of these two things and be a super cool mom while doing it. I mean, I remember being really excited that we got to sit on the floor. As we ate dinner! In the family room! This may well have been my first taste of rebellion, even if it was my mom's idea. But the thing is, I was so terrified of E.T. that I've never been able to eat sloppy joes since. 

Well now that I'm in my mid-twenties and currently facing zero time to stir up well-crikey-I-should-have-my-own-cooking-show wonders, I found myself asking, "What can I make that will last me a whole week, but takes barely any preparation?" I almost cringed when I heard my cool mom say the dreaded words... "Sloppy joes." (enter slow-mo mode) No!!!!!!!!! 

Then I asked myself how a girl who has started watching the series Hannibal is letting herself be defeated by a little alien from the 80s. How ridiculous! So I broke down and made them. But I didn't stop there. Oh no! I couldn't stop there. I'd gone too far. I rented E.T. too... 

With this hardwood floor as my table and 2/10 on plate presentation, I have no current plans to go into food blogging.

At first, it seemed like elementary school me- in her infinite wisdom, bowl cut, and horse shirts- had a very good point. E.T.'s fingers are creepy and he waddle-runs in a way that still strikes fear in my heart and then there's the whole extendable neck business, which is the very definition of terrifying. I have the heebie jeebies just thinking about it! But then there was baby-faced Henry Thomas (you may have heard me coo over him before) with his bad pizza delivery skills and frog-saving heroism. There was also an epic score, a little girl named Gertie, and scenes that really tugged on my heart-strings. And I eventually warmed up to E.T., perhaps due to the weird purring noise he makes or maybe, quite honestly, having a sheet thrown over his head... So this qualifies me as 'not entirely heartless,' right? Anyway, having previously blocked everything about this film except Reese's Pieces from my mind, I now completely understand why this is a classic and am glad to have it under my belt. That being said... it's still a no on the extendable neck business. No. No. No. No. No.

E.T. Sloppy joes. Maybe not your typical recipe for fear. But it was certainly one of mine and I'm glad I gave it another go! 15+ years later and, it turns out, I have a taste for it after all! Do you have any "haunting" memories from your childhood that keep you from doing certain things? Try them again! They just might become a new go-to years and years and years later!

Picture Book Update

You may remember that when Hurricane Sandy hit last October, I spent my days in a blanket fort scribbling away at my notes for the upcoming NaNoWriMo and a picture book that came out of nowhere. This little story about a rather unique dragon tickled me pink, but it seemed drastically different from everything I'd workshopped in my writing classes. I'd always submitted middle grade or YA pieces. So I was really nervous when we pulled our desks together for a critique circle. But when we finally did, I was bowled over by overwhelming positive feedback as well as a note from my teacher saying I should edit it and send it out for publishing. I was stunned.

Well finally! Five months after getting that note, I've finally let it sit long enough and tightened it up to the point where I feel comfortable sending it out. This is, in a way, really scary; putting a beloved character of mine in the hands of a professional with the power to tear it up like... well, a professional! But ultimately I do think this story is meant to be shared and whether it's a yes or no, I am happy to get feedback to make it even stronger. 

Over the past few months, I've been making a list of dream agents. You don't pitch your story to a publishing house, you pitch to an agent. They pitch it to the publishing house. So this week I sent it out to my first wave of agents. I'm querying them first because I especially admire their work, think we'd get along well, and would love to have fighting them my corner. It's so bizarre to think my story is now in their slush pile. It's so crazy!! Anyway, I just wanted to give you all a wee update that actually concerns writing. Now the long wait for replies begins... But there you go! You know, no big... AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

When I Made This Playlist: gingers

When I made this playlist, I was 21 and interning in Edinburgh for the summer. I was trying to hold onto that version of myself who felt most comfortable in her own skin when living abroad. I was trying to be someone I wasn't i.e. someone who wanted to work in politics. I'd just let my best friend give me bangs. I'd just gotten my first Mac. I'd just bought Viva La Vida. I'd just kissed a Scotsman. 

At Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in the Scottish Highlands.

I was prone to using my American accent to get free drinks at my favorite haunts. I always listened to "Four Kicks" by Kings of Leon on my walk to work, which unfortunately included a trek across the windy South Bridge where I had countless Marilyn Monroe moments. I lived in New Town before moving to Old Town behind a bright blue door by the Meadows. Rainy days were spent cozied up in The Elephant House by a window with a view of Edinburgh Castle, hoping some of J.K. Rowling's writing magic had seeped into the tables or maybe their famous shortbread, and sunny days meant Marks & Spencer picnics in the Princes Street Gardens with my roommate Anna. She and I were always on the lookout for gingers, hence the name of this playlist, and Scotland seemed happy to oblige us.

Sadly, I could not find the acoustic version of McFly's "POV," which is infinitely better... :(

I've listened to this a lot this week and it's brought back so many happy, ridiculous, and embarrassing memories. This is why I'm always making playlists. Because music tells me better than anything else "where I was" at a certain point in my life. This mix is a bit all over the place, because I was too. But it's a bit unique to all my other playlists, because each and every song was actually collected with the rest in one specific place. And now if you care to meander down Memory Lane with me a little longer... When I made this playlist...

With A Little Help From My Friends

Sometimes you spend so much time with yourself that you kind of lose sight of yourself. Do you know that feeling? You get sucked up in this strange world, fighting the good fight to make way for the person you want to be, but there's something missing. Whether you acknowledge it or not, it's there in and outside of you; this space just longing to be filled. 

This past weekend I flew out to Dallas for my friend Alex's wedding and was reunited with the group of girls who were with me from the very first day of college to the last and beyond. And suddenly that space was full again. I'd hardly taken the time to notice before or maybe I was just in denial over that one little adjective that makes such a big impact. Lonely. I've missed the community of this phenomenal group of friends that's now spread all over the states more than I can possibly say recently. Life's gotten tough and I've had to get tough right along with it. So to finally relax and be with my favorites was the best thing that could have happened to me. 

My lovelies!

There's just something about friends who know you inside and out. The ones who have been with you before you learned to pluck your eyebrows, who've ridden with you in cop cars across Arkansas after road-tripping car accidents, who cried over P.S. I Love You in bed with you and a lap full of pancakes on your 21st birthday, and who humored you by starring in your silly music videos. They know to whip around and look at you whenever a harmonica's playing, that certain names still and will likely continue to make you squawk for another eight (eight?!) years, that there's no such thing as sharing too much, and that Firefly and cuddling are always on the agenda. But above all the memories, quirks, and adventures that you make you a well-oiled unit, the best thing is that assurance that they are always there to support you and make you laugh no matter what. They take you seriously, but not too seriously, and generally just leave you feeling ALL THE FEELINGS. I am so blessed and ob-freaking-sessed with this tight-knit group of friends. I love you all so much! You blew me away this weekend and I owe you my sanity and leis strung with oreos and happy feels.

So now I'm going to do what I always do when I'm missing them terribly... Eat chocolate and cry a little over this video I gave them all at the end of senior year... Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!

We'll All Be... from Sally Anderson on Vimeo.

Six weeks till reunion #2!

Climb Every Mountain

If you had told me a year ago what I would have accomplished by 9:30AM yesterday morning, I never would have believed you. Run 10 miles? In a race? Without stopping? You might as well have told me I was going to discover a time portal to Regency England. It would have been that unfathomable to me. That fictional. You'll notice that on my list of 101 things in 1,001 days, I put a 5K and 10K. I never imagined a desire to run any farther, much less the ability to do so. When I put my name in the lottery for the Cherry Blossom Ten Miler, I thought my chances of getting drawn were pretty slim. But I soon found myself staring slack-jawed at an e-mail saying I was in. Congratulations! Now run 10 miles.

The truest words I've ever heard about running are "the hardest part is getting out the door." That first step out into the cold, that Joker-esque mind game, can be the absolute worst. I hate running on treadmills, so I essentially signed on to a running tour of Baltimore's ugliest weather. As soon as my name was drawn, I started following Hal Higdon's 15K/10-Mile Run novice training program rain or shine, but mostly just bitter cold. 102 miles logged into my beloved Brooks PureCadence later...

My training also revealed a hardcore obsession with purple I can't explain...

And I did it! I did it! I discovered a time portal to Regency England aka crossed the finish line in 1:41:04. What? What?! 10:06 miles? Is this a joke? Am I on candid camera? No! I did that! I did that! Y'all. I can't help it. I'm so ridiculously sore proud. I've always been a Mia Thermopolis. "More of a horseback-riding, wall-climbing, yoga-doing type of girl." But never an athletic girl. And when my friends dragged me kicking and screaming into the freezing night air for a measly two mile run last January, I thought I was going to pass out at the one mile mark. First comes the first step, then comes diligence, then comes the next day where you get yourself out of bed and do it all over again. And before you know it, you're celebrating your ten mile run over brunch with your sweet family and running buddy!

I realize I'm a bit obsessed with the concept at the moment, but... that first step. It's the hardest. And the most important. It'd be so easy to look up at whatever mountain you're facing and lie down at gawk at it instead of taking that first step. But once you take it, you're that much closer to getting acclimated. So take it! Take that step! Lasso the moon! Am I being cheesy enough for you right now? I'm not saying you won't feel like you're going to cry sometime around mile nine. I'm saying you have what it takes to cross the finish line. 

Major thanks to everyone who helped me do just that. To my roommate Erin for helping me train, to my sister Katy for dropping me off at the Washington Monument, to Sarah for running the race with me and cheering me on at that pesky ninth mile, to One Direction for serenading me all over DC, to my sister Emily who couldn't be there but helped motivate me from afar with a just-visualize-Louis-Tomlinson-at-the-finish-line exercise, to my aunt and uncle for driving down from New Jersey with homemade medals for Sarah and me, and to my parents for flying up from Georgia to help me carbo load the night before and give me a hug as soon as I'd burned it all off. You all made this experience a great one; one I'll never forget. So thank you! 

P.S. As for the title, of course I will use any and all opportunities to reference The Sound of Music! Don't you know me at all?!

101 things in 1,001 days

Now that it's April, I've got my fingers crossed that this months-long creative funk will finally pass. The birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and my ratty running gloves are tucked away in the back of the drawer where they are to stay until further notice. One thing I'm hoping will help battle this funk is my list of 101 things in 1,001 days. I posted the list on my tumblr in February of last year after reading my friend Whitney's list. I was so inspired! I have until November 22, 2014 to cross everything off and so far I've crossed off 33. Some things are daunting, others are a bit silly, a few I've done before and want to hold myself accountable for doing again, and a handful are downright ridiculous. But what can I do?! I'm stuck with it now!

The best part of making such a personal list so public has been the support. I never would have foreseen that and yet here I am over a year later with relationships that are a bit stronger thanks, in part, to the list. You'd be amazed how excited people are to help you with your mini dreams if you simply voice what they are! Enthusiasm breeds enthusiasm. That's one of my favorite facts of life and definitely my favorite side effect of sharing this list.

But since I've been subject to that agonizing creative lull recently, I thought I'd share my list here too. Who knows... Maybe you'll have a suggestion as to what I should tackle next!

1. Finish a work of fiction
2. Submit it for publishing
3. Take an art class
4. Go camping for the very first time (better late than never)
5. Learn how to make macarons with Emily and Will 12/28/12
6. Witness the Chincoteague Pony Swim
7. Sing karaoke
8. Run a 5K The Color Run with Katy, Will, Emily, and Sarah in DC 9/9/12
9. Run a 10K
10. Learn how to knit 9/5/12
11. See a musical on Broadway Mamma Mia with Aunt Val, Uncle Bill, and Sarah 2/2/13
12. Host a meal at my house once a month for three months (0/3)
13. Successfully make a soufflé
14. Make 5 things for 5 friends (1/5) for Ali 3/1/13
15. Volunteer at a soup kitchen
16. Attend Baltimore’s French Language Meet Up
17. Plant and maintain a planter box garden
18. Donate blood
19. Read 15 classics (5/15) - Sense & Sensibility by Jane Austen 4/12/12, A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs 7/6/12, The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde 7/15/12, Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson 9/21/12, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott 12/20/12
20. Go to a music festival
21. Complete the 365 photo-a-day challenge
22. Go rock-climbing
23. Use my passport to visit a country I’ve never been to before
24. Make an inspirational banner
25. Learn basic Spanish
26. Solidify a writing routine
27. See a movie in the theater by myself The Artist at The Charles Theater 3/5/12
28. Participate in National Novel Writing Month 11/1/12-11/30/12
29. Build a blanket fort on a rainy day 10/30/12
30. Visit 10 museums I've never been to before (3/10) - National Geographic Museum 3/31/12, Smithsonian Institution National Museum of Natural History 3/31/12, American Visionary Arts Museum 4/8/12
31. Urban Pirate cruise on the harbor
32. Write a letter or e-mail to an author I admire
33. See Les Mis on stage at the Fox Theatre with Mom 4/28/12
34. Grab a friend and go to Zumba with Sarah 6/26/12
35. Open an Etsy store
36. Make a storyboard for a playlist
37. Buy a flapper dress
38. Knit or crochet a circle scarf 12/14/12
39. Host a tea party
40. Attend a horse race and place a bet
41. Go to a Navy football game with my dad 9/29/12
42. Explore a lighthouse on the coast of Maryland with my mom 8/12/12
43. Go on a trip with my sisters
44. Get a fancy cooking lesson from Chef… I mean Will! 12/30/12
45. Double the length of my quiet time each morning
46. Go tubing
47. Drink a frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity in NYC with Sarah and Alison 10/6/12
48. Visit the observation deck of the Empire State Building (and look for Cary Grant)
49. Get a French press thank you Aunt Val and Uncle Bill! 12/25/12
50. Make Aunt Val’s tomato pie without supervision 9/25/12
51. Visit M et Mme Chauchat in Versailles 5/27/12
52. Stand at Point Zéro in Paris and take a picture 5/25/12
53. Have a picnic
54. Give up chocolate for a month
55. Finally buy a pair of boots 9/22/12
56. Kiss in the rain(!)
57. Learn how to poach an egg 11/18/12
58. Try brunch at 10 different restaurants (2/10) - Teavolve 3/18/12, The Hamilton 9/16/12
59. Obtain and wreck a Wreck This Journal (thanks for the gift, cousin Allie!)
    
60. See a classic film in a theater
61. Paint outside
62. Paint something on canvas
63. Bake croissants from scratch
64. Successfully perform a shoulder stand in yoga class 2/29/12
65. Go to the Baltimore Farmers’ Market & Bazaar right when it opens at 7AM with Amy 7/29/12
66. Make a meal only using food bought at a farmer’s market
67. Take an archery lesson (Legolas/Robin Hood complex? Ok yes…)
68. Attend a book festival Baltimore Book Festival 9/28/12
69. Make a dear friend
70. Pay for someone else’s coffee in a drive-thru
71. Watch 1 French film a week for 6 weeks straight (6/6) - Les Émotifs Anonymes 9/12/12, Joueuse 9/17/12, Le Papillon 9/26/12, Potiche 10/4/12, Une femme est une femme 10/11/12, Elle s’appelait Sarah 10/17/12
72. Go to bed by 10PM every night for a week 8/23/12 - 8/30/12
73. Make a donation to a cause I believe in Blood Water Mission 1/1/2013
74. Make a donation to my alma mater 5/20/12
75. Watch the sunrise and sunset in the same day
76. Visit Lancaster, PA
77. Join or start a book club
78. Cook a meal with my grandma 5/12/12
79. Send handwritten notes to friends and family (33/50)
80. Go apple picking
81. Enter a writing competition The Mysterious Undertakings of Mara Dew 8/30/12
82. Send a care package to a soldier I don’t know personally
83. Go to a red carpet premiere (on the sidelines - I’m not that delusional!)
84. Make breakfast al fresco with Uncle Bill 8/5/12
85. Spend a weekend at the beach 8/31/12 - 9/3/12
86. Write a bucket list
87. Make a lamp out of an old-fashioned fire extinguisher (like my mom’s)
88. Go vegetarian for a month
89. Figure out what I want to be when I grow up (ha!)
90. Tour the White House
91. Throw a themed party
92. Eat in an Ethiopian restaurant
93. Try to recreate the scones au nature I had at BAPZ in Toulouse
94. Play paintball
95. Introduce someone to the Dutch market with Sarah 3/2/13
96. Spend the entire day at Boordy Vineyards
97. Go horseback riding
98. Get paid for my writing
99. Sponsor a child
100. Inspire someone else to create their own 101 in 1001 3/6/12 - good luck, Libby!
101. Celebrate completing my 101 in 1001 list!

I've got a long way to go, but I'm looking forward to it! How about you? Are you keeping a list of some kind? If not... do!