New

It seems like the right time to buy in to the season and implement some good change.  Usually I celebrate the new year but ignore the hype and keep trucking along with whatever I was doing before.  This year though, I'm excited to get started. 

 
I quit my terrible job and went somewhere that made me happy.
This was the biggest change.  I was simply miserable and nothing else seemed important at the end of the day.  Life is too short to waste on people who don't want you around.  Find something else and go for it. 

Finished a quarter.  One down, three to go.  I got this. 

Aired old grievances and started fresh. Friendships need nurturing and patience.  It's important to remember that events will cause change and everyone is doing the best that they can.  In the end, say your peace and move on. 

Recognized the need to focus.  I need to take a few pictures, then put my phone down and be in the moment more. 

Celebrated health. A kidney stone and a week on Percocet really puts things into perspective.  I felt like I slept for a week and nearly missed the Christmas season.  Things are all right now and let's be grateful for that.

Missed my state.  How about less feely posts and more adventurous writing?  I have to get out there and explore.  Grab my park passes and go.  Make reservations.  Hop on the ferry soon.  Put gas in the tank and point on a map.  Write it all down as I go. 




Happy New Years.   


Let's not wait until the 31st, get going now. 

I Jumped

I can't sleep. 

I'm going through another "I'm not living well right now" moment. It has nothing to do with being busy and everything to do with being unhappy. I'm unhappy. With my job, my body, my dreams, my friendships, my state of just being. Blame it on the shorter days, but I've been unhappy and the lack of sunlight just brings it to the surface. 

I know I will be happier in a few months when things open up. But damn it, that's not good enough. Work called on Sunday and my boss made me come in. Halfway there that demand was cancelled. We went home and changed then headed over to a friends house. She had lost a bet and had to jump into the canal. 

I changed out of my work clothes and packed a bag. 

I was jumping too. 

Something inside of me knew it. I was doing it for her, someone who makes me feel wanted and good about myself. But I was also doing it for me because someday I'll tell my kids I jumped into that body of water in November. I lived for a bit even though it was awful and I couldn't feel my arms so the guys pulled me out and I was afraid my pants were going to fall down. 

We jumped and I know it will be a baptism in the end. The day I said I'll go too, didn't hesitate, and gave a thumbs up once I was out. She screamed and hugged me before and after--the friend who would cannonball into freezing, dark blue water in solidarity. I've been through worst with friends. 

This job, these days, this life. I can do better. I have to. I have to let go of the toxic stuff, throw my hands up in the air, and go for something that makes me happy, even if it's freezing and salty. 

Something big needs to happen. And it needs to happen now. 

And

I need to get back to blogging. 

I need to write and record.  I'm going to miss it all if I don't.  Pictures are good enough, but there's nothing like looking back on a post and the words that go with it. 

Life has been so busy.  It will always be busy.  It will most likely get busier. 

But, when something is really important, you'll make time for it. 

So, no promises.  No deadlines.  No agendas.  Just a realization that this is important after all. 

Things I Thought About While On Vacation

I can't wait to do absolutely nothing.

We would use a pool everyday if given the chance. 

Washington State really needs a Cracker Barrel. 

The Westin has the best beds, hand down.

A six hour nap is nothing to be ashamed of. 

I should drink Daiquiris more often. 

Except they're only good at the Ritz-Carlton.

It's good to know people who work at the Ritz-Carlton.

Laying in a hammock in Florida should be on everyone's bucket list.

Two years of marriage goes by very fast. 

Maybe we'll eat our wedding cake on year three. 

Once you see one of these little guys, you see them everywhere. 

I can deglaze even the crappiest of time share pans. 

Palm trees are pretty.

Playing catch in the deep end is a wicked ab work out.

Children are generally annoying.

Parents are worse. 

Do not try to get a late breakfast on a Saturday in a tourist town. Even at McDonalds.

Shells make the best souvenirs.

My husband limits my shell gathering at two handfuls. 

I would have taken shovel fulls. 

I didn't bring back enough shells.

The Gulf is beautiful, but I missed the Atlantic. 

She-crab soup is amazing. 

A great vacation involves eating with the locals. 

I can still do a decent half flip into the pool. 

I should wear more tank tops.

Base tans in October are so in. 

It took me way too long to relax.

My husband makes the best travel companion. 

Minneapolis has the coolest airport. 

I miss Fall. 

I miss my family and friends.

I miss the dogs. 

We are living in the most beautiful place in the world.

I'm ready for anything that comes next. 

Tonight

Ella, Dino, Tony sings their very best in the background. Songs which make you close your eyes and breathe in, hold it, open your heart. 

Nat sings about Stardust. The melody haunts my revelry and I am once again with you. When our love was new and each kiss an inspiration. 

Songs we use to relate to, far away from one another. 

Candles glow. For no reason. No special occasion.

Dogs sleepily play at our feet. 

The bed is half made. 

The curtains dance with the wind. Outside rain mists. 

We read, legs curling with the pups. 

It is so perfect. So simple. 

A night I want to remember when I'm old and grey, smiling that I did all right. 

Of Tan Lines and Bubble Baths

It is dark outside and a cool breeze blows through the window screen.  The leaves rustle on the branch, still green from Spring, but showing their age. I have nothing in mind to write about.  The days mostly fly by but still have their moments of aggravating slowness. The Summer is  gone and with it the realization that there could have been more--more campfires, more swimming, more tomatoes, just more sitting and enjoying.  It could be heartbreaking, it really could.  But it never really gets to that point. There will always be another Summer and now there is a new Fall. 

I get high on Fall. 

No Fall List is necessary (no Summer List this year either, well life is just a bit too busy).  It doesn't require one. I have no reason why, it just doesn't.  Summer calls for bare shoulders, loose schedules, and extroverted behavior.  Fall encourages engulfing sweaters, holiday planning, and a bit of reflection.  The book end to a year and at the same time a chance to start new.  Fall is my favorite. 

  I crave a bit of Fall and a bit of leftover Summer.  A warm bubble bath, glass of wine, and a date with my blog.  Fall.  Tomorrow, falling asleep with the windows open, the smell of the neighbors fire pit wafting in.  Still Summer. 


Another Summer gone.  It's okay.  We'll eat more tomatoes next year. 

In the meantime, let's live in both worlds. 

Anatomy of a Weekend: This Perfect Saturday

Today was so wonderful that I had to sit down and write it all down.  But, I should preface it with K broke his wrist last weekend and is miserable, and I have to work tomorrow, cutting my weekend short.  The pressure was on for today, and yet there was no pressure at all.  It was one of those days where you just decide to get in the car and drive to one place, then visit a couple of other places near that place.  You get it. 


We started at a diner with breakfast.  Big, heavy, lots of coffee, fuel for the day.

We decided to go to Lake Cushman, then grab lunch at a dive bar, finishing up at Hamma Hamma. We did it all. 


 It was overcast and a bit colder than the Summer days we've had so far.  Still, the conditions were perfect, the parks slightly less crowded, the trees and water contrasting perfectly against the grey.

 

 

The road turned into gravel, then back into paved again as we entered the Olympic National Park grounds.  We stopped at Staircase camp grounds, tucked against the Skokomish river. 

 

 

And my husband, my HUSBAND, looked around and said,

 

 

"This would be a nice place to camp."

 

 

 

I guess he's starting to become a bit of a Washingtonian. 

 

 

 

 

 

Looking back at the pictures later, I couldn't believe I hadn't taken more.  I was in the moment, I realized.  Fully breathing in the scenery, cementing it into my memory rather than worrying about capturing it for later. 

 

Besides, we're going to go back I hear. 

 

 

We drove further North after, looping around the Hood Canal, through quiet, sleepy towns scattered with rope and crab pots.  Eagle's Creek Saloon was our destination in site, based off a recommendation by a friend. 

 

 

 



It didn't disappoint.  It was a dive bar, but filled with elderly couples celebrating birthdays in a large group.  One woman asked for champagne, which they did not have.  Dollar bills were stapled to the pillars, one reserved for those serving our country.  We'll go back there again too, dollar in hand. 

 

Finally, we got to Hamma Hamma.  Its where to get seafood on this side of the water. 

 

 

We left with clams, crabcakes, bread, and even ice cream from a local producer.

 

 

 

We will, well you know we'll be back. 

 

 

The day was finished at The Hardware Distillery in Hoodsport.  We had tasted their selection of vodka, and gin at a local restaurant, but were floored by their Bee's Knees. 

 

 



 

So we bought a bottle, cursed ourselves for leaving the phones in the car (the place was just so cool, I wish I had pictures), and drove on home. 

 

It was perfect and simple.  And, it's not over yet. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Best Friend's Baby Shower

Last weekend, I threw the greatest party of my life.

My best friend is having a baby.  Lots of friends are having babies right now, but this one is definitely different.  Because it's my bff, my matron of honor, my sista, my other best friend's wife, it's Nettie.  So it was go big or don't even bother.  Do it right and don't include those weird, awkward baby shower items that everyone seems to think is tradition (wrapping string around a belly and eating a cake that has baby feet, I'm looking at you.). 

In fact, back in May, on her first mother's day, I delivered a box with a sneak peek of the shower and included a list of things that would not be at this shower. 

Alcohol.

Watermelons in the shape of a baby and or stroller. 

Embarrassing games, ie anything including a diaper.



Those things are gross. 

Baby showers don't have to be gross.



The theme was ABC's, made obvious with vintage alphabet letters and signs pointing to you your next destination. 

Vintage letters from PrettyLittleStudio.

Like R is for Read-- guests were instructed to bring an unwrapped children's book and bookplates were provided to stick in the inside cover.

Bookplates made on Word and printed on sticker paper. 

Signs made out of thin canvas, letters glued on with a glue stick. 


D is for Drinks--self explanatory and really unnecessary to point out since it was in the middle of the room.  But pretty.  That's the important part. 

On the drink menu, water with mint and lemon and lemonade with berries.  I added the berries at the last minute, crushed, spilled it on the burlap, had to take everything off while cursing the gods, flipped over the burlap, and proceeded. 

Straws from saralukecreative.

G is for Guess-- since this baby is still a mystery, guests were invited to pick pink or blue and write their name on a piece of paper.  During gift unwrapping, I had the mom to be answer Old Wives Tales to predict what the sex of the baby was. 

She's having a girl.  But, I already told her that in March.

( I threw pieces of paper on the ground for each old wives tale, for pizazz)


S is for Sweets--again, not necessary, but very pretty.

And C is for Create--my favorite part of the shower.  Part baby clothing decorating and part alphabet letter painting.  The poor father to be doesn't realize he'll have to attach hooks to hang these letters soon. 

We did play some games--a name game were guests came up with a boy and girl name for each letter of the alphabet.  Prizes were given to those with the most complete sets (each sex for a letter) and the most creative name (mom to be picked).

And the dad to be answered some previously chosen questions (when do babies start to walk?  How many diapers do you go through a day?) and she had to guess how he would answer.  For the record, babies do not walk at four months. 

The menu was casual.  Tomato salad with basil, Greek Salad, fruit salad, roast beef wrapped asparagus, prosciutto and fig jam sandwiches, smoked salmon and avocado on crackers,  and a few Filipino dishes from the dad's family. 

The color scheme was turquoise and coral, with some natural colors thrown in.  My mom has a Cricut machine which was a life saver.  We were able to make the signs and garland in no time. 

And even a mobile or two.

My favorite detail was the party favor.  Every good party needs a favor.  Seriously, when did we out grow that?  This was the last detail that I came up with.  Every other favor I came across seemed silly.  Then Pinterest showed me the candle. 

And that was it.  What a better gift to give your guests?  Nettie will receive a LED candle for the hospital room, so she is reminded of all the flames that flicker for her across the state. 

We put the candles in the boxes that I was suppose to use for my wedding favors.  They've been sitting in my old room at my parents house because the thought of folding one more thing two days before my wedding would throw me into a diabolical state. 

It was a beautiful day.  I can't believe my best friends are going to become parents. 

I can't wait to hold that little joy in a few weeks. 

But mostly, I was honored to give this day to someone who has done so much for me in my lifetime.  

She's pretty amazing. 

She's going to be a great mom. 

I can't wait to see. 













Post it

I looked up from work on Friday, closed my eyes, and breathed in my favorite song playing on my phone.  Then I stopped, grabbed a few post it notes and wrote something completely beautiful about balance, life, balance, life, stuffed it in my pocket and told my boss I was punching out for the day. 

It was meant to be shared and is sitting on the dresser now. But more than that, for once in a month I wrote something and that felt really good. It felt right, it felt important, and it felt true. Reading the yellow sticky notes now may not even make sense, as that moment is gone, but that doesn't matter. I wrote.  

That Time We Went to Prom

This is going to sound a little bit funny, but we went to prom together a couple weekends ago. 


(And it was amazing)

K's coworker was volunteering at her son's prom and so he said we'd love to go.  That we'd never been to prom together.  And before you gush over that statement, know that he agreed to help because he loves her and wouldn't miss an opportunity to watch teenagers awkwardly dance in tuxes too big and uncomfortable shoes. 

So, we were officially chaperons.  No orientation, no rules to follow, just us and our own judgment. 


We started off the night with a cocktail. 

And were the first to get our picture taken.  Him behind me while I grabbed onto his tie and crossed it over my shoulder.  Classic prom picture.  Its the first picture to come up on the photographers Facebook album.  Those poor children.

Teens slowly trickled in.  No doubt wanting to be fashionably late.  K and I complained about a dance that starts at 9. 

The DJ denied us a look at the "no play" list.  I remembered fondly the days when Kube 93 played actual legit music.  We were shocked at some of the songs played. Too risqué when we were kids. 

It took awhile for the dance floor to fill.  I looked around and watched seventeen year olds play with their phones and talk non-stop to their friends.  They had no idea that they were having their prom in a Footloose type of setting.  The original one.  I'm sure the DJ would banned us from the facility if we had requested that song. 

Finally, it started to loosen up.  Couples danced, groups formed, and we realized that there was no way we would ever be able to stop any dirty dancing.  Or what it even looked like nowadays. 


So we danced.  We danced like no one was watching, because we were surrounded by teenagers only concerned with how they looked.  I wanted to grab and shake them, yelling, "Don't you know how great this is?  Don't you know that your only future dancing chances will be at bad weddings, stuffy clubs, and maybe, just maybe when you get to chaperon a school dance?"

They wouldn't get it though.  Much is wasted on the youth--like ironically posed pictures, twinkle lights in barns, and a date who knows how to slow dance without both hands around your waste. 

And after three Nicki Minaj songs and the Harlem Shake played in its ENTIRETY, I was happy to get in our car, flip off my flats, and head on home.  It was great to be on the outside looking in.  It was fulfilling to look at a glimpse of what we all had ten years ago, except with no sequin dresses and far more up dos, and realize how time changes you.  You go from a teenager at the peak of fitness and youth, embarrassed by your moves and horrified not to have a dance partner, to a women with years of life on her shoulders (and hips), happy to have a few moments to dance by yourself in the bathroom.  Maybe they don't appreciate prom for what it is, but I sure did.


That's probably why he signed me up afterall. 

Stride

Its been really good lately.


Transferring closer to home, opening an office downtown, we now find ourselves with more time and opportunity to explore, relax, just be. 

The weekends are spent next to an open fire, mesmerized by burning wood and skipping flames.  I drank out of my very own wine glasses next to the fire.  We lounge on our old leather chair and hang pictures from our last place.  While we work hard during the day, it doesn't seem like much once home and winding down. 

Our community is starting to envelope us.  No longer feeling like outsiders, we have our own bar, own restaurant, own back roads, and own places to identify ourselves with.  The people wave back and our Saturdays are starting to fill. 

With everything done, sometimes it feels like "what now?"

What next?

This.  This is all there is to do now.  To sit outside in the warm sun, recounting the week, saying hello to the neighbor that walks by, and savoring each sweet minute. 

Chihuly

The Saturday before my birthday, K and I spent the afternoon in the city: we visited the glass museum, sat on a park bench watching tourists, drank hard cider in the corner of a favorite bar, then grabbed dinner with good friends.  It was a perfect day.

I still dream of the swirly glass. This was of course not my first Chihuly rodeo--I fondly remember the time my parents took us to the glass museum in Tacoma and we watched them create giant displays with the flick of their wrist. I took a class my freshman year of college in the building that had the classic chandelier in its lobby.  The first time K visited Seattle, we sat a table away from Chihuly himself one late afternoon while eating pasta.  Just us and him.  I didn't approach, it was enough.

The museum twists and turns like the strong arms who form the glass.  Some rooms dark except for the back lighting shining through.  Others bright and airy.  It spills out into the garden, the Space Needle proud and tall behind.  Everywhere you look, patrons are snapping pictures, hoping to capture the experience with their lens.  I tried.  It doesn't compare.  Even the coffee book we bought afterwards isn't just right.  You'll have to see it with your own, talented eyes.

All throughout, boards tell the story of what inspired every piece.  You are reminded of the past shows--San Francisco, Venice, Japan, Singapore, and stop and think about how lucky you are to experience it right here.   Not to mention he is from here.

K mentions to me that this is something he would have never seen if he hadn't met me.  I tell him you are very welcome.

Happy glass hunting.