argh.

A story about a sweet little girl, friends:

 She was on her way to get her ears pierced. And so excited. Excited to wear all different kinds of earrings, excited to be grown up, and excited to show off her newly pierced ears to all of her friends. Once she got to the shoppe, the reality of the situation began to set in. Having needles go through her ears all of a sudden didn't seem so glamorous; it sounded like it would hurt. Nervous, but still determined to get the job done, she sat in the chair. The first pierce was horrible. It hurt, and she cried miserably. When she realized she was only half done with the procedure, she leapt out of the chair, and into her mother's arms begging to only have one ear pierced. Her mother, who hadn't been crazy about the idea of her little girl having her ears pierced in the first place, reminded her that this had been her idea, and she had to get the other ear done; or else she'd look like a pirate.

And with that, the little girl declared that she wanted to be a pirate.



I feel like that today, friends.

You know those days? The ones when you know what you should be doing, (homework, choreography, thesis research, etc.) but you've just lost the desire; at least for 24 hours? Somedays I feel like that. Except I'm already half done with grad school. I already got the first ear pierced. It would be silly if I didn't pull through and finish the other half.

...I guess we all just want to be pirates sometimes.


Now that I got that out, I'm going to finish my homework. 

mimi weekend.

Thanks to my sweet parents, I was able to run away to Indiana for the long weekend. 

Five days and four sleepless nights with my favorite (and only) 

sister Melody, and my favorite (and only) niece Naomi. 

She turned two, and I can't believe it, friends! 

Do you remember this photoshoot we had the day we brought her home from the hospital? 

Remember this party we had for her first birthday? 

It seems like only yesterday. I can't believe she's two.

I feel an extra close tie to mimi because I got to be with her right after she was born for a few days. Then, about five months later, we moved to Salt Lake (where their little family was located), and got to spend a year hanging out with mimi. She calls me Lala, and I dig it. My first nickname from a baby.

We read stories. 

We played hide and seek. We went shopping. We sang songs in french. We danced to mozart (her request). We went to the zoo. We rode escalators up and down a hundred times (and each time she'd holler and wave to the people behind us, "see ya later!") 

We had laughing contests. 

(She won that one.)

Favorite weekend I've had in a long long time.

Good luck this week, friends.

a valentines abroad

I love traveling. 

So so so much. 

I always find myself antsy to get away.

Even going for a road trip a few hours north south east or west. 

Bliss.

As a kid, my family would travel a lot during the summers especially. Some summers we'd go backpacking for a few weeks at a time. Others, we'd go to the beach and battle the waves. Everything was an adventure, and I loved every minute.


Since getting married, and especially starting graduate school, Gid and I have had to cut down our traveling budget down to holidays home. Which is fine; it's ok for us to be poor. We're going to look back on these years as some of the sweetest in our lives. I love that our apartment is made of cinderblock and eating out is a rarity.

But the adventurer in me has been stewing. She's antsy. She doesn't care about a masters degree. She wants to backpack around europe, or go bike riding in new zealand. She's tired of thesis research, sunday school and dusting the living room. And to be honest, she's starting to get a little cranky.

The other day I started expressing my feelings (a fancy way of saying whining) to gid about how badly I want to get away just for a day from salt lake. And then- the perfect idea for a valentines date hit me.

Friends, any of you heard of a staycation? 

I read about it on pinterest. All I had to do was basically make our tiny apartment (really just our bedroom) into a new place for just one night. I added a "night around the world" theme to our evening plans as well.

First we planned a nice dinner at the most wonderful indian restaurant ever. We pretended we were really in India. It was even stupid crazy busy that night, so we kept making comments to each other like, "wow- india is really busy tonight... and full of white people..."

After visiting India (which was beyond delicious). We took a quick trip to Germany and enjoyed some incredible chocolate treats made in Stuttgart.


Following europe, we came to a lovely bed and breakfast (also known as our apartment) which had been royally decorated for the occasion. Gid was stunned.

Preparing the room was by far the most complex part of this evening. I've simplified it to 5 steps:
Step 1: Get spare bedsheets, curtains and left over christmas twinkle lights. Make canopy on ceiling of bedroom with romantic twinkling lights. (Pretend the twinkle lights are stars.)
Step 2: Get vintage postcards/posters from around the world and tape them to the windows and walls.
Step 3: Rearrange the room a bit to make it look different. Change the bedspread.
Step 4: Make little sign on the bed that says "Welcome to your suite."
Step 5: Put gourmet chocolates on the pillows.

Oh friends, I really wish I'd thought to take pictures.
It was so magical to transform our tiny bedroom.

After revealing our honeymoon suite, I planned on us watching the french film Les Choriste, but to be honest, we were both too pooped to watch anything. This may or may not be a sign of us getting older. It was around 9:30 that we got in bed.

And there you have it, dear friends. A valentines abroad. 

Perhaps someday we'll actually get on a plane to go on an adventure. 

But I liked it this way too. 

Good luck this next week,

winter blues.

*As I write this I'm wearing four layers on my top half, three layers on my legs, two pairs of socks, and am wrapped in a blanket like a friggin eskimo.

__________________________________________

In college I had a roommate who would get incredibly depressed during the winter. She would go to tanning beds, eat lots of fruity treats, and even would watch movies that took place in the summertime to combat her sad feelings. This will sound terribly insensitive (because it is):  I thought it was super annoying. And that she just wanted attention. And that she was kind of really really dramatic.

I grew up in Texas, where weather below 90 degrees is welcomed graciously. I hated the long hot summers. I hated feeling chronically sweaty. I hated the hot wind, the dust and the sun in general. In fact, summer time texas weather made me grouchy in general. Especially when I had to be outside in it (which, in my family-- you were always outside).

I don't know why it never occurred to me that if long hot summers made me grouchy, long snowy and dark winters could make my roommate depressed. When I was in college the winters (even the long snowy idaho ones) were annoying at times, but certainly not a good reason to get weepy or sad.

Moving to today.

It's so cold. It's been cold for the past several weeks. There's a good foot or so of snow from last month that has turned into a block of ice where the usual grassy area in our front yard is. There are three days forecasted for more snow within the next week. I hate it. My feelings for this winter have transformed from an irritation to a full on loathing for the cold.
And I love winter accessories.

 A few days ago I found myself feeling blue, weepy, and totally unmotivated for the load I have ahead of me this semester. Unsure of where these feelings were coming from, I went to the closet to grab a(n extra) pair of socks, and a(n extra) blanket to bundle up in. I felt like watching something cheerful, cheesy and pathetic, so I looked for the bachelor on hulu.

And it hit me.

I was my roommate.

And immediately I felt a(nother) wave of regret for my insensitive attitude towards her seasonal depression. You know how when you judge people it always comes back to bite you? I hate that.


Wishing you all a warmer evening than my own,

new year.

Obviously this is late.
Obviously I haven't been on here for months now.
Oh, you didn't notice? Shoot.

Well, I'm only 20 days late on posting something about the new year.
And I have my resolutions written out, (I might post them later) but I'm only going to share and hold myself to one of them today.

And it is simply this: 

Every day, try to have a good day.

Sure, there will be days I'll want to throw myself into an endless pit. There will be days I'll want to quit grad school. There will be days when Gid may seem less than charming. But today, tomorrow, and the next 345 days after that, I'm going to make a conscious decision to try to make it good.

babyhungry.

My friends will sometimes tease me about quirky little qualities that I possess. For instance: I eat fruit snacks. Alot. I go out of my way to step on crunchy leaves. I like fancy pajamas and foreign films. And sometimes (all the time) I buy cute outfits for my future babies. Then my friends call me baby hungry. Sigh.

Somedays I can't wait for a baby. Most days Gid really can't wait- he's significantly more baby hungry that I am... Maybe that's what this post is really about- thinking about what an incredible dad my husband will be makes it super hard to not constantly have babies.

But other days, like when I hear a two year old tantruming in the candy isle in the grocery store, I remind myself that we've got pllleennty of time. And Gid and I are lucky- in the sense that we've never felt pressure from family or friends to start our family. That is until recently. I've held off writing this post, because a) it's difficult to write exactly how I've been feeling, and b) I'm not sure if I'll keep feeling this way, or if its just going to be a phase.

I've had friends have babies before. When my sweet friend Courtney had her little guy, I was absolutely thrilled for her and begged for more pictures on facebook. When my cousin had her first (and then second) little girl, I was ecstatic for her, but still felt no pressure. I've had several of my dance/college friends have children, but have never regretted my decision to pursue my graduate school (though I am still of course excited for them). And when my sister had Mimi, though I truly fell in love with her baby lips and chubby thighs, there was still no burning within me to have a baby.

Then my best friend called me with unbelievably exciting news: she was pregnant. And as excited as I was for her, and I mean genuinely excited (to the point of running around the room screaming), something pinched.

Brittany and I were roommates during the majority of our college years and had often had late night discussions of our dreams for the future. She'd often muse about having a canadian house full of well fed children impeccably dressed. I'd dreamily talk about a career in dance, living independently, and finding myself in paris. When we got married (two weeks apart from each other), I wondered how long it would be before our kids were best friends just like us.

As Brit's pregnancy developed, and she started to look like she actually had a baby growing in her, the strange feeling I'd had when she first told me the news was replaced by even more excitement than I'd felt before, which- to be honest- relieved me. I was a little nervous that the pinch I'd felt earlier was jealousy, and the last thing that I wanted was to be jealous of my best friend's blessing. I'd gush with Brit over nursery details, and baby names, until finally, she had her sweet little Autumn.

A few days after returning from the hospital, I had a webchat with Brit and her baby, and the pinch gently returned. It was at that point that it hit me- for the first time in my adult married life I'd felt like I had been left behind. And it sort of made my heart ache. Brittany had been with me through so many important times of my life- she helped me study for tests, get ready for dates (she picked out the outfit I wore on Gid and my first date), heck- she even helped me make the decision to end (one, two, three) weird relationships. Brit helped me get ready on my wedding day. And I helped her get ready on hers. I don't know why, but I just assumed we'd help each other through pregnancy as well. I guess it just didn't happen the way I imagined it would. And here I am- thinking about my thesis topic while I write on my blog. Brit is probably changing a diaper that smells like marshmallows (her baby is so sweet, I can't imagine it smelling otherwise). And I'm not jealous. (Brit- I swear!)

I'm just, for the first time, a little hungry.

Which makes my dieting for the next few years a little rough.

...I think I'll go eat some ice cream.

Hape this wasn't too weird of a post today, friends.

fixing cinderella's dress...

So mimi is obsessed with Cinderella.

My sister tells me that she'll run over to the couch,

 delicately lift one foot and say in her little 1.5 year old voice, "and look- glass slippers." 

(pronounced "sleepouus")

(original shoes)

  They don't live by a disney store. 

But I do.

(original dress- note ugly broach)

So gid and I went to pick up a little cinderella dress for my sweet mimi.

Have you guys noticed that all the disney princess outfits have these cheap looking pins with a picture of the specific disney princess on them? Color me tacky. Sure enough- the dress and shoes gid and I  picked up came with atrocious plastic pins on them.

So I snipped them off. 

And replaced them with jewels.

(The other day mimi said one of her many complete sentence statements- 

"I love diamonds", so I thought jewels would be very appropriate for her costume. )

The more I put on, the more I had to put on.

(her little trick or treating bag $1 as opposed to the $11 version below)

By the end of the day, I'd attached 11 teardrop or emerald shaped diamond looking gems, and super glued 44 light blue rhinestones to the dress.

Little headband made easily with jewels and hot glue.

Goodness, I didn't realize how tough fixing up a little dress can be. 

(And I didn't even make it!)

It must have been much harder for those mice in the movie... 

She's going to be the cutest little cinderella ever.

Crisp.

Friends. Do you know what day it is today? 

Think crisp. Think scarves. 

Boots, candy apples, and cider. 

Think color. 

Specifically, yellows, oranges and deep reds. 

Think golden undertones. Think crunchy leaves.

Think evening parties with hanging golden twinkle lights and dancing to ella fitzgerald.

Think pumpkins, cinnamon, and nutmeg.

Think college football. Think soup and homemade bread. 

Think of cuddling under warm blankets instead of cranking up the AC.

Happy first day of Autumn, friends.

ps- more details to come about my upcoming fall party. Stay tuned.

Year Three.

Dear Gid.

Three years. You and me. Remember our first meal in our first apartment? We hadn't even brought our boxes in from the moving van. No furniture. Nothing in the closets. No idea where the grocery store was. We happened to have some noodles, and some marinara (that I was given at a bridal shower), so we dug a pot from one of the boxes in the car, and ate the spaghetti on top of a printer box that we used as a dining table.

Then we sat. On the floor. Our backs against the living room wall. And then-- I had a mini breakdown. Something about neither of us having a job, any friends, or any idea what we were doing in boise idaho. I flipped. And you were calm, sitting with your arm around me. Yep. That was our first dinner in our first apartment. Fast forward to a year later. We both had great jobs. We had dear sweet friends. We had furniture. We went to Oregon for our anniversary. I felt like we'd been married for a few weeks. But it'd been a year. And then a few months later, we decided to move. To Salt Lake City. For graduate school. For both of us. (dun dun dunnnnnnn)

Remember moving into our slc apartment? Remember our 2 year anniversary a few days after we moved in? I felt like we'd run a marathon. Two whole years. Remember that time (those times) that I break down in a puddle of tears similar to the one I made in our first Boise apartment? And you put your arms around me, squeeze me, and somehow I just know everything will be ok? Remember how we've fit everything we own into 480 square feet? Remember how there is mold constantly in our bathroom, regardless how much bleach we cover it with? Remember how my leotards and tights are everywhere? Remember how we need pliers to turn our AC unit on and off?  Remember how lucky lucky lucky we are to have our sweet lives in our tiny apartment?

Which brings us to yesterday. Three years, Gid. You and me. And even though I feel like we've had lots of ups and downs, I'm super crazy about you. Absolutely nuts. Waay more than I was on our wedding day, (and I was pretty into you then...), or even our 1st or 2nd anniversary.

You're the marshmellow to my hot chocolate, the gravy to my mashed potatoes, and the hummus to my pita chips. You're my favorite hello, and my hardest goodbye. And we get to look forward to many many many more years, just you and me. And maybe even a few others.

Happy three years, sweet boy. Fist bump.

Ok, high five.

ask me to do something cool...

...and you'll probably get something super weird instead...

a big thank you to the lovely hannah stewart who asked me to be the subject for a project photo shoot.

and a big apology for my weird poses...