Today, you and I have been together for four life-changing years, and exactly 5 months from now, we will be married. Yay us!
Darling, I am constantly amazed at what we’ve been through over the last several years, since the first moment I opened that loooooooooong Facebook message you (my dear friend) had bravely composed, divulging the depth of your feelings for me. The decision to leave our strong friendship behind and move forward into romance was something out of a song. I’m thankful every day that when you asked, I said yes. (Twice!)
I marvel at the amazing things we’ve celebrated, the difficult times we’ve pulled ourselves out of, and the day-to-day normalcy that is the foundation of our simple, happy, bickering, smoochy, animal-hair-filled, human life together.
We aren’t perfect, and darling, I wouldn’t want to be, because those people are so boring. You know me at my best, but still love me at my worst, and the latter is what’s important. It has kept us grounded. It is what keeps us checking our comfort at the door, and continuing to build a stronger love, a more beautiful place in this world that we can share, and into which we will grow.
I shudder to think of my world without your kisses, your stupid jokes, your beard, your wicked smart brain, your warmth. I love you, every day, and cannot wait to be your wife.
One of my favorite things about the internet today is how artists and creatives of various sorts have found interesting ways to collaborate with others, specifically: me and you and everyone commonplace. I went into great detail about my excitement (and involvement) with Foster Huntington’s The Burning House, which was my first foray into these free, online collaborative projects. When opportunities like this arise, I can’t help but join the legions of others who want to be part of it.
Which brings me to the Stardust Project by Sergio Albiac. Sergio created an imaging program that can take pictures of people’s faces (submitted by anyone who wants to be involved) and generate unique portraits using a mosaic-smattering of nebulae images taken from the Hubble. He’ll provide you with three different portraits, and they’ll also be posted with the thousands of others on his Flickr…
I’ve been missing Seattle immensely as of late, especially my little apartment near Volunteer Park and having innumerable restaurants/bars/activities seemingly right out my door. In the three years I called Seattle “home,” I set out to devour all of the food, cocktails, hikes, and sights I could manage on a very (very) tight budget.
My friend Jessica is moving up there this week and our discussions leading up to her move made me yearn for the city I left nearly two years ago. So much has changed (new restaurants and bars, especially!), but much has stayed the same, too.
I arrived in Seattle with a clear vision of what this city and its surroundings would hold for my early-20’s existence. I grew up outside of San Francisco (arguably one of the best cities in the world), so my standards were high, and when you’re poor like I was, a lot can be said about a city that has places to go and things to do that don’t cost an arm and a leg. (Seattle has some of the best Happy Hour deals out there.)
For the first time since I left college almost five years ago, I’m living within 30 minutes to an hour (with Los Angeles traffic, it’s a crap shoot) from my sister and numerous friends. This gives me incentive to leave my one-square-mile of comfort, and explore, explore, explore.
There are endless things to do down here, and so much I don’t know about the area. I’ve resolved — along with Jonathan, Kim, and our friend Shannon — to see more of it.
Thinking of my friends and family, near and far today. I am happy happy happy today, and hoping that everyone is enjoying their Christmas mornings.
It’s still the early hours of Christmas, but we all know that the height of the season comes just before the presents are ripped open and the tree’s base becomes barren. Mugs are full of hot coffee, breakfast is cooking, and we’re slowly making our way towards opening gifts.
The best time of the holiday for me, always.
I’ve been pretty absent during this last quarter of 2012, but I had to let everyone know:
I love you. I wish we could celebrate today and enjoy the last days before the new year together.
Kiss your loved ones today. Cherish your gifts, and relish in the generosity of others.
Jonathan and I went to the Long Beach Antique Market this past month to see if we could find an item or two for the new apartment and I was in pretty things heaven.
We got up at 6:30 a.m. and headed out shortly after. This antique market happens once per month (3rd Sunday) and takes up 20 full acres of a parking lot adjacent to the Veteran’s Memorial Stadium. There is a fee to get in, though the cost is higher the earlier you arrive, since some of the incredible pieces likely get swooped up by serious buyers as soon as the gates open.
How beautiful are the handmade/vintage Persian rugs in the above photo? There were literally piles of them, and the prices were actually surprisingly reasonable. We almost walked away with this one but didn’t want to spend all our dough so early in the day.
In addition to loads of rugs, there was, well, everything else you could imagine. Here are some photos of some of the cool stuff we found, if you’d like to see…
Every year, the end of summer brings with it a uniquely familiar laziness; a heavy sleep and slow pace brought on by too many heat-stricken days. Our senses remember this annual dance as we unconsciously adapt—physically, mentally, emotionally—to the next phase. The year begins, always, with the weary exposition of a frigid winter, encouraging us to move with anxious feet through the refreshing rhythm of bright spring mornings and bursts of color in rebirth. We’re fully awake now, which means that the journey can really begin. The livelihood of summer is paved with unstructured activity and anticipated busyness, always pulling, never ceasing. Then, as promised, the heightened energies of summer build to their inevitable climax, sending us full of tired relief into the denouement of cooler, welcomed, autumn nights.