So I've been really wanting to dive into this whole blogging thing. I like the idea of it, and frankly sometimes at the end of the day I start to feel so restless -- like I'm not spending my time in the way I would like. And that's kind of ridiculous because I am constantly doing things that I think are great.  I mean, yesterday I went on a early morning bike ride for the first time in a long time and it was a small moment of greatness. Just listening to the shins and bike riding down by the river made my whole day so much better. Moments like that kind of bring clarity to the fogginess I feel on a somewhat regular basis. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm sort of an instant-gratification kind of person. Don't get me wrong, I love the adventure and experience of a process, of coming full circle and knowing that the happiness you feel at the end is more an after-effect of the journey than it is a result of its completeness. But sometimes I need to be reminded that there are things out there that can make me feel good about life and do it quickly.

Which is why I then I made a KILLER gourmet grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. Good sandwiches are one of the quickest ways to my heart. And after that I watched several episodes of 30 Rock that had me almost in tears because I'm convinced that I am Liz Lemon. (Except for the part where she's forty. and not married. and a writer for a comedy show. okay basically the only thing we have in common is our borderline ugly love for food, that's it, whatever, twins okay.) And this prompted me to get Tina Fey's new book which I read in a single night and really dug. It's refreshing sometimes to read things from a point of view that's similar to yours and to really take it in that you're not the only person who is totally weird and unsure of their self and full of experiences that are absolutely embarrassing but also the ones you would never trade for anything.  It was one of those books I kept catching myself laughing out loud with and constantly going to Dylan saying "WAIT I have to read you this part...." Then me and the dude went to go get sushi which ruled because I had been craving a spicy crawfish roll for weeks. We made fun of each other with chopsticks, talked about work, laughed at little kids with chocolate ice cream all over their faces, and just had a really good time. We also found out that we're likely going to New York in the fall to visit family and go apple picking and just run around with each other! He's never been before and it's also a great excuse for me to increase my winter wardrobe--so needless to say I'm mad excited.

   

(a small example of my week in instagram photos)

Sometimes I think I just feel like I'm really struggling adjusting to all of this time for myself. While the time me and the dude spend together is everything I hoped our home life would be --  I sometimes have a hard time figuring out how to manage doing things on my own that make me happy. A lot of that struggle is definitely a result of my sort of crippling anxiety when it comes to driving in unfamiliar places. Another is realizing that I have so much time that I am not taking full advantage of. I mean, this is the first time in seven years that I can really put all of my effort and energy into things I am crazy about and to be honest I think I've been very carefully tip-toeing around it because I felt a little overwhelmed. I feel like so many people expect you to have it all figured out at a certain point and I've always let that get to me. But after so long of beating myself up about it I got to a point where the thought just makes me laugh, because, who am I kidding? I am twenty-one, you know, and just barely, for that matter.  I am at such a young age to be in such a good place in my life where I can afford the gamble, where I can take chances with things and kind of run wild with the stuff that I'm interested in. And if it inevitably takes me no where, then that's okay! I'm always so afraid of having to start over. I'm so apprehensive about putting all of this effort and energy into something just to see all of the work reach no conclusion, for the potential to be left unrealized. But at this point I'm just like to hell with it, you know? I'd rather spend half my time starting over then spending all of my time never starting at all.

   

I'm also hoping to use this blog as a means of reminding myself constantly that I live a really happy life! One where I make cakes from scratch and dance in my underwear to rap music sometimes. Where I watch lousy tv shows with my husband late into the night, laughing together and dreaming up the rest of our lives. A life that involves eating hummus in the park sometimes, day-dreaming about having children one day, feeling lucky that I share my strange but great completeness with the neatest dude. I write notes in tiny graph-papered journals about the people I see riding their bikes past me, I wonder about God, about the kids I see playing in the front courtyard of homes far too expensive for me to own. I go back to my parents home as often as I can because I am not one of those people who can't stand the places they come from. They don't remind me of who I couldn't be once, they don't remind me of what I wanted but never got, they don't remind of being young and craving. They remind of that surge you felt when you were foolish and hungry. I feel indebted to them, like I could never give them the words and concern they deserve. The places where I have claimed love, where I fought for this very life that I had always wanted. I was never trying to run away or even out run the memories - if anything I was always just trying to find my own. And slowly but absolutely I am.

I can feel it sometimes in those small but serene moments when me and my husband are bike riding by the bridge and the flowers little kids make wishes on are spreading apart in the wind. When I'm running to the door every time I hear the sound of him locking the car. When we're eating french toast for the third morning in a row watching old episodes of the twilight zone and in the middle of it he just stops, rubs powdered sugar across my forehead like in the lion king and says "This is a really good day". Just like all the days we spend wound together, dancing in our bedroom to funk-jazz music, every morning when he hits snooze on his alarm clock just so we can curl up together just a little bit longer. And sometimes when I fold the towels while he plays songs on his bass and in the glow of christmas lights against him thumbing the strings all I can think about is how these are the things I spent years dreaming of. I'm hoping I can put more effort into fully appreciating that kind of stuff, and I'm also hoping you're into those sort of things too.

P.s. if anyone wants to collaborate on anything in the future,
lemme know and we can maybe give it a shot!