A while back, my mister and I discovered an Austin, TX based musician called Shakey Graves. It was love at first listen. Last year, while in Austin for a wedding, we got to see him play at Stubb’s and it was just perfect.
Tonight, he’s playing at Soda Bar here in San Diego, which means I got me a hot date with my love!
Do you like Mad Men? Of course you do.
Surely you can imagine my surprise when I discovered a copy of Roger Sterling’s book staring at me from the dollar shelf at the Kensington Library book sale last Saturday. I almost didn’t believe it was real. Even the librarian looked confused when I gave it to her along with the few other books I decided to purchase. Alas, it now lives in a place of honor: the bathroom bookshelf.
I’ve taken to meeting my neighbors. Tonight, I even stepped out for a quick walk around the block and ended up chatting with the sweet lady that lives four doors down. She’s been in our neighborhood 47 years! I wonder if I will ever be able to say that.
The obsession with Pompelmo continues, but having recently bought out our local supplier, I’m at a loss. Why oh why must the most delicious flavors be so hard to find? I’m sorry Limonata, but your lemony bubbles just aren’t doing it for me these days. Not since I’ve been corrupted by your tarty little cousin, grapefruit.
In closing, I shall leave you with my favorite song (and favorite video) from BOY:
PS: They’ll be in San Diego on October 27! Tickets are available here. I’m just saying.
The French have this saying that mostly refers to setting ingredients out in a logical and organized way so as to maximize efficiency when preparing a dish, but I think it’s a good metaphor for life.
Everything in its place.
A simple idea, and yet not so easy in practice. At least, not for me. This is the part where I tell you that I excel in messmaking. It’s an art, really, one that is terribly under appreciated but one for which I most certainly have a talent.
Now, I have my theories as to how I became so gifted in the discipline of clutter, and they almost all have something to do with the fact that I have moved seventeen times in the last decade and that, frankly, settling into a space was never really something I had the opportunity to do, and so I never really did.
When we moved into our current house eleven months ago, we were still very uncertain as to whether or not we had made the right decision in relocating to San Diego. After the year we had in Oregon, I think we were all a little hesitant to get too comfortable, too quickly. It’s taken us this long, but we’ve finally chosen to stay put.
San Diego has been good to us, better than we could have hoped. And I got to thinking that maybe, just maybe, I haven’t been able to find places for things because I haven’t felt in place myself. And that in finding my place, I’m ready to do something that I’ve never done before.
I’m ready to make a home. I’m ready to unpack years of boxes, to embrace tidiness, and thoughtfully curate our living quarters.
Which, by the way, I’m sincerely hoping makes cleaning easier, because let me tell you. There are about a million things I’d rather do than clean my house. But my home? I think that sounds kinda fun.
image via
Something’s happening. I don’t know what precisely, but something. Something good. And I’m pretty excited about it.
This spring has been intense, in the best and worst ways possible. Actually, the past few years have been that way, full of great things and terrible things and everything in between. It’s been a time of tremendous transition which, quite frankly, shook me to my core. But it takes being shaken to your core to find out what your core is made of, is what I have learned.
Turns out, I’m stronger than I thought I was. Smarter, too. And a lot more broken than I ever allowed myself to acknowledge. Broken isn’t a bad thing, it’s an invitation for attention. Anything worth keeping around awhile requires a little mending now and then, you know what I mean?
Today, my mister and me, we went for a bike ride together. It’s easily been a year since the last time I rode my bike, my beloved bike which was stolen – along with all of our other bikes – from our backyard several months ago and was only recently replaced. Cycling, like writing, was once a central part of my everyday existence. It was my only form of transportation for years, and I loved it. A lot.
Being back on two wheels, pedaling through traffic and navigating city streets, had every cell of my body vibrating like the strings on a finely tuned instrument. This is what it feels like to be alive, I reminded myself.
So yes, I’m excited. About this blog, about my bike, about summer, about life. Thank goodness because it was getting a little dire. I’ll spare you the details. But I will say this: the best has yet to come.
Now that’s something.
I miss blogging. There, I said it.
But oh, it’s true. And it’s ridiculous that I haven’t just up and started writing again. Only, I seem to have gotten rather shy?
It’s hard to come back from anything, I suppose. And for a long time, I felt like writing would only make me more sad, because that’s how sad I was. I use the past tense lightly here because, quite frankly, I’m still kind of struggling, but in a better-ish sort of way. Thanks, San Diego!
Living in Oregon taught me that, while I’ll always have a hole in my heart the size of New York City, I truly am a California girl. Moving back to California has taught me that there is a lot more to happiness than good weather.
I came to pieces little by little and putting myself back together seems to be a remarkably similar process. Writing was once at the core of my daily life, and it was then that I felt most connected, inspired, and productive. More than just writing, though. Sharing my story. And learning from the stories shared by others. There is endless amounts of wisdom woven into the many individual, complex, and human stories that live on the internet. And there is community. It’s really pretty great.
Therefore, in an attempt to shake off the last of the heaviness of those grey Pacific Northwest skies that apparently tried to swallow me whole, I have declared enough with this nonsense and back to it already.
I mean, really.