Things Are Sweeter in Tennessee

Today is sunny and warm, and I am just a drive away from most of the people I love. I get to smell the scent of New England air and listen to the sounds of familiar laughs, and drive down streets that I could probably drive with my eyes closed. I get to bounce through the morning rush, and I get to hold doors for people, and be okay with the fact that most won't say thank you. I get to see MA and NH license plates everywhere I go, and feel comfortable that mine fits right in. This is my home, this is where I belong, yet I can't help but miss where I was last week.

I miss Tennessee and everything about it. I miss the clean, calm breezes and the laid back feeling. I miss the accents and the fact that people there actually care how my day is going. I miss that no one is pushing to get in front of the next person. I miss the clarity and the way my brain works while I'm there. I miss the comfort. I miss the excitement and the talent and the country music spilling out of every bar. I miss 2 for 1 beers. But most of all, I miss my sister. It's so hard being away from my best friend.

 

 

 

 

 

But I love the way I fit right in too, like I'm a Tennesee regular. Part of my heart will always be there. Nashville, can I come back soon??

Carey

Come on down to the Mermaid Cafe and I will buy you a bottle of wine
And we'll laugh and toast to nothing and smash our empty glasses down...

 

 

A round for these friends of mine

Let's have another round for the bright red devil
Who keeps me in this tourist town

 

 

Maybe I'll go to Amsterdam
Or maybe I'll go to Rome
And rent me a grand piano and put some flowers 'round my room
But let's not talk about fare-thee-welIs now
The night is a starry dome,
And they're playin' that scratchy rock and roll
Beneath the Matalla Moon

 

 

-Joni Mitchell

 

photos via pinterest 

A Thought for the Weekend

If you can find something that makes you smile, takes you away from your every day stress, and brings you to a place in your mind where nothing makes sense but it wouldn't make sense to let the thought go, hang on to it. Let yourself shine. Design your life the way you want to, wear what you want, and surround yourself with people who bring out the best in you. Give into yourself, and don't forget, nobody's perfect. Embrace the unknown, and remember, live for today and make big decisions tomorrow.

Happy weekend, loves.

 

 

 

photos via pinterest

Live Out the Confusion Until it Becomes Clear

Where does the time really go? I mean, people always say “Ahh, it’s the work week again, where did that weekend go?” I know I’m guilty of repeating that phrase every Monday morning. But have you ever actually thought about it, or do you just smile and say “here we go again”?

Lately, I’ve put so much consideration into answering that question, probably more than I should. What I’ve figured out is that it’s a popular question to raise, but it has no quick answer. I woke up last Saturday and spent the entire day and night with my best friend Alli, and I felt like I was 18 years old again. We ate and drank more than we should, spending the whole day outside at cute little places downtown, and laughed as we realized that I’m 26 pushing 30 and it was 8 years ago that we were college roommates. I wondered where all the time had gone, but I didn’t want to sit there and analyze that. I spent the rest of the weekend hiding behind the blissful clouded vision that if I could just hang on to every piece of the night and pretend that tomorrow is so far away, it would feel real. As she and I said many times (and louder as our buzz got stronger), “today is the BEST day ever!” And it was.

 

Monday morning I woke up realizing it has been two full years since my boyfriend & I closed on our house. Again, where has the time gone? Two years, or even eight years will pass in the blink of an eye, but when you stop and think about it, those years are everything. It's impossible to answer where the time went in just one word. It’s millions of laughs, thousands of tears, hundreds of inside jokes, and dreams, and mistakes, and secrets, and nights you’ll never forget, or never remember. I then decided that life shouldn’t be counted in years; it should be counted in moments. If we counted how many perfect moments we find ourselves in rather than worrying about the fact that we might not find ourselves in them again, I think we’d be a lot better off.

 

As I sat under the hot sun on that Saturday afternoon sipping a Blue Moon and talking with my best friend, I realized something that I didn't even mean to realize---The more we stop wondering what comes next and what happened to get us where we are, the more comfortable and less confused we will be.

Cheers to that.

Rays of the Sun

I write about the weather a lot. I can’t help it. The sunlight ignites a flame inside of me and sends me to a place where only the most exquisite words and photographs can explain my thoughts on the weather.

The rain does this to me, too. So does the changing of colors in autumn and the heaviness of the snow in winter. Something about the not knowing, and the never lasting, keeps me hanging onto unanswered questions and yearning for the steadiness of the promise of perfect-weathered days. Maybe this is why my favorite candle is the one called "Summer in the Winter." It keeps me on my toes, handing me hints of both sunkissed skin and oversized sweaters.

It's really all about the unfamiliar, yet too familiar feeling when the weather starts to adjust, and it's hard for me to adjust too. But for now, I’ll just relish in the sun because when you're busy focusing on the sun, you don't have time to think about anything else.

A Post With No Title

"That weekend the city blushed with a great heat wave,  

but on Monday it rained, cooling the ache in the street’s burn.”

 

 

 

photos via Pinterest

Holding Onto Hope

Fear. Panic. Terror. These words seem simple in text, just a gathering of letters typed onto a vacant sheet. But they are so much more than that. They spell emotions that are compound and so real that they can impose the most insurmountable amount of stress onto the human body. And, regrettably, the City of Boston, alongside the rest of the country, is especially familiar with them all.

Next comes: Empathy. Concern. Exhaustion. What has this world come to? What should we tell the children, do they even understand? Is it easier to imagine it’s not happening? How can we pretend it’s not happening when people have lost lives, lost limbs? Am I being selfish because I am thankful to be protected, well, and secured around the people I love? It is all too tiresome on the body to wonder, and wonder, and wonder some more….and never have the ideal responses.

I can’t answer any of these questions that I've found myself asking others, along with myself….because I can’t even wrap my head around them. These are honest, true issues that so many Bostonians, and many other Americans, are facing right now, yet it all seems like a nightmare that we will wake up from and thank God that it didn’t happen. But it did.

So, again, I pray hardest when it's hardest to pray, and I hope when there is little hope to be had. I let my faith be bigger than my fear. And then I collect the tainted pieces of belief I have left, hoping to find composure. I pray for those who are lost, those who are suffering. Those who don’t know where to begin, and those who worry it will never end.

I pray for Peace. Stillness. Answers. Strength. Reslience. These words, again quite uncomplicated, yet powerful enough to eclipse the horror going on in our beautiful city as we speak.

 

I hope that you pray too.

I Still Don't Know What To Say

But this photograph says it all.

photo via Danielle Ducharme

Peace in Oneself, Peace in the World

 

There is so much sorrow in our country right now. I can’t even compile the right words to form the sentences or paragraphs to even begin to understand the dreadful events in Boston yesterday. Usually, writing brings me to a place where I can make sense of things, and with that, I can generally breathe easier and relax my shaking hands. This time, I can’t even get to that place in my brain. So, I just pray.

And I ask that you pray too. Pray for your loved ones, and pray for those you don't know. Reach out to anyone who could use a companion, or a shoulder to rest on. Remind your friends and family just how much space they take up in your heart. Pray for those who were severely affected. Above all, pray for yourself. Be gentle with your own soul. Take the time you need to heal and process what happened. To all those who participated in the marathon, be proud of yourselves. It’s ok to be proud. Be proud of every person who competed, and of yourselves for cheering them on. Don’t let the enemies steal your pride….because that’s exactly what they want. Remember that love is stronger than hate.

 

Try to pour as much empathy as you possibly can into the universe right now, and have faith that someday, somehow there can be enough peace to wash out all the hatred.

It's Friday

Have a fabulous weekend, my loves!

photo via Pinterest

Reconnecting with Myself

Lately I've been having trouble sleeping. This is something that very rarely happens to me. I've often bragged to people about how I could sleep on a rock or how I'm already dreaming within seconds of closing my eyes. I don't know what's keeping me awake recently.... it's nothing in particular. I just feel, and know, that I need to re-connect with myself. I'm feeling slightly distant from me, if that makes any sense at all. I'm so busy working on my relationships with everyone else in my life that sometimes I forget how much I need myself. I need to work on that.

I really just think I need a little more peace and a little less coffee in my life. I've been flirting with the idea of acupuncture and meditation, too. Maybe I need a zen garden. Maybe I just need a hot bath or to lay in a hammock somewhere. Do I just need to take a pen to paper and write and write and write until I make sense of everything? It's possible that I simply need to become intoxicated off the scent of fresh flowers and the sound of a cool breeze. Maybe a mixture of all the above will work. Wouldn't that be nice?

 

A Rainy Post

"April is the cruelest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire, stirring
dull roots with spring rain.”

 

“But don't talk to me about the weather....Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain that they mean something else. And that makes me quite nervous.”

Photo via Pinterest

Food For Thought :: What We Eat & What We Dream

      One thing I know for sure: I cannot eat pickles, chocolate, or any combination of the two within three-four hours of going to sleep. If by chance I break this rule, my dreams will be haunted, I will wake up in a drenched sweat, I will most likely scream and wake up the neighbors, and Stephanos will have to rub my arm and tell me it’s okay until I fall back asleep.

My point – I am almost sure that what I dream at night is 100% directly influenced by what I consume during the day. Typically, I consider myself a healthy eater, and I think nightmares are a way of punishing me if I stray away from that at all. I tend to believe this because every time I have a nightmare, I look back into what I ate that day, and I can usually pinpoint the culprit. Spicy foods, sour foods, and chocolate seem to be my biggest dream offenders.

My questions – Why does this happen? In my opinion, dreams are the absolute wildest part of life. Think about it, you lay in your bed, close your eyes, and within a period of time, your mind drifts into another state of consciousness, and before you know it and without any of your control, an untamed, vivid story is playing behind your closed eyes, and you have no choice but to watch. How about this, have you ever had a dream that you were dreaming? This is even more extreme. Waking up and wondering whether or not I am actually awake is a bizarre place to be, and it usually ends in me pinching myself for reassurance.

      Does what we eat during the day affect not only the outcome of our dream, but how many dreams we actually remember? Are there any foods linked to happy and inspiring dreams? Can someone promise me that if I eat a certain food three hours before bed, I will slowly float my way into a magical dream that I will remember every detail of?

      Some medical theories state that the heat from spicy food elevates your body temperature enough to the point where it interferes with your sleep, making you uncomfortable. The distress then works its way into your subconscious, and it is reflected in the storyline it creates. Some medical theorists claim that “real-life stomach aches and other types of gastric distress can end up as dream pain experienced by your dream self.”

      Another speculation is that it isn’t really what you eat before bed, it’s how much you eat. Digestion increases brain activity, so the more work your body is creating to metabolize your food, the more vivid your dreams will be.

What is your theory? Does this happen to you? Do you want to start a dream log, too?

Should I never eat pickles or chocolate again?

 

Welcome, Twenty Six

Thursday the 28^th of February was my 26^th birthday, but you already know that because of my last post. (Here is where I will apologize for the brief hiatus I took from posting. Life can sometimes get overwhelmingly busy!) I woke up energized and eager to begin the day. I didn’t even consider pressing snooze on my alarm. Even my normal routine of showering and blow-drying my hair was exciting—I was getting all dolled up for a 6 hour car ride, but it was a 6 hour car ride with my boyfriend whom I would undoubtedly be taking photos with at every chance I could get, so of course I had to look cute.

 

We arrived in Pennsylvania six hours later, and after a few coffee and bathroom stops (more like ten because I have the bladder of a five year old and the excessive coffee intake makes it that much worse). It felt comforting to arrive at my aunt & uncle’s house with four days of enjoyment in an unfamiliar, yet familiar enough place to explore ahead of us.

Between dining in remarkable restaurants to drinking free draft beers at the casinos in Atlantic City, I can honestly say these were four of my favorite days. I welcomed 26 with enthusiasm, alongside some of my favorite people, with a good buzz that lasted for the entire trip.  

 

 

 

As we drove through the busy city streets of Philadelphia, no one knew but I was quietly day dreaming of a life writing for a magazine next to a cute organic coffee shop while Stephanos wore his best business suit to work in his office made entirely of glass windows, where he would work until we return to our high rise apartment after sipping on after-work-drinks at the local vodka bar. (Yes, there is a vodka bar in Philly. Tell me that’s not enough to make you want to move there right now.)

Hey, a girl can dream right? This vacation was definitely one for the books, or dare I say, for the blog.