December 30, 2014 • just some things
...another year gone.
I realize with each passing year, I sound more and more like a blue-haired, AARP card-toting member of a Buick-driving, prune-juice sipping demographic (disclaimer: none of that is intended to sound disrespectful, I love older people so very much)... but I can't help it. I am genuinely dumbfounded that each passing year speeds by, quicker and quicker out of grasp.
It's been a good year. No major loss, lots of growth (big recap of my year coming tomorrow!), but the dreamer and schemer in me is so "big picture" sometimes, that it's tough to label something as grandiose as a year of life as successful. I have to consciously evaluate and reevaluate the goings-on and the emotions surrounding them before I can slap a grade on it... so, after having a little introspective session with myself, I do believe I can deem 2014 a success.
While I tweak my other year-end posts, here's a list of what I've been loving lately:
- We've made this tomato tortellini soup a few times and it's a huge hit... cozy comfort food is the name of my game.
- Also, I found this cake recipe a while back and have baked it several times--ST will straight up ask for it specifically, which is saying a lot, coming from his easy-going self. Bonus: both of these recipes originated with my newest favorite food blog... check them out. Also, going to make these puppies tonight!
- Can't stop listening to this album lately... excited to see them here in Nashville on the 17th!
- ...and I know I'm late to the game, but this T-Swiz mashup is just endlessly beautiful. I literally listened to it about 200 times at my desk today. Truly. (also? girl is in Nashville! the music city moniker rings true yet again).
- As my goal list grows increasingly longer and longer, I'm sticking to running a half-marathon (love these tips!), this ever-popular (local) juice cleanse, and taking some coffee classes at one of my favorite local shops (lucky for you, you can check out their crafty online tutorials!)
- A sweet and realistic post on how BFFs evolve into something else when you're in your 30s.
- I can't even tell you how much I love this life advice.
- In an effort to guide your closet purging, if that's also what you do every few months like me, this is a really helpful graphic.
- And in an effort to be genuinely reflective, here's a fabulous list of questions to ponder as you look back on your own 2014, and look ahead to what you hope next year brings.
xo
December 25, 2014 • le fam, loverboy, my dear mom, nashville transplant
// twinkling. //
Just checking in to say I hope you've had such a wonderful Christmas, wherever you are, whomever you're surrounded by. My parents jetted in to Nashville on Tuesday (!!!)--I knew I'd love having them here. Sure enough, we've had such a wonderful few days together... and tomorrow we're playing up the tourist scene and heading to mosey through some museums I haven't even ventured to (residential hazard!).
Christmas Eve marked two years since my mom passed away... so having my parents here is even more heartwarming, even more of the safety net I can finally admit I need in a month that has historically been pretty rough throughout my adult life. And weaving in two of the people who know me best into the city I've come to know as home? Suffice to say, this has absolutely been one of my favorite Christmases to date--which is saying a whole hell of a lot, seeing as there was a stint not long ago where I was convinced the luster surrounding the holidays was to be blamed on a childlike mirage of meaningless excitement and misplaced joy. I was so, so very wrong... and I'm so happy for that. The week has been so fantastic, the best way to round out 2014.
Once again, Merry, Merry Christmas.
xo
December 8, 2014 • another birthday, dig a little deeper
ringing in 28.
Good or bad, here are 29 things I've learned in my little stint here:
1.There's not much I've experienced that's as rewarding as reaching adulthood and being close with your siblings (and parents!). There's something so sweetly special about creating new memories and jokes with those who've known you the longest, who know you the best.
2. Repeat after me: go for the cheap mascara, and always wash your face at night. Splurge on stuff for your face and lips, but it's my opinion that mascara is the thing you shouldn't waste too much on. It dries out, it flakes off... it's basically all the same.
3. Learn how to change a tire and change your oil... even if you never need to do it, it really is comforting just to have that knowledge tucked away. Is there anything worse than (being a girl and) being stranded somewhere? Nothing sets my anxiety shooting through the roof like car trouble (at the bare minimum, invest in AAA).
4. We've all seen friends come and go, and it's tough--especially when you never imagined those people would be out of your life. But every now and then, you'll realize that some of them really do become family. And that is just amazing to me.
5. Take the time to thank a veteran when you see them... it doesn't matter where--at the grocery store, in church, at a concert. Get over feeling uncomfortable about approaching a stranger and embrace their sacrifice--just for a minute. It'll make his/her day... I guarantee you. It's the absolute least you can do. The warmth you provide that man or woman with your one or two sentence exchange will last a lot, lot longer than your nervousness.
6. Get out of town. While I loved my Baylor experience, I'm confident I would have flourished anywhere... and I feel fortunate (as I've said a million times) to have found myself in Nashville (after stints in both Dallas and Birmingham). I think you learn the most about yourself when you are in unfamiliar surroundings. You find your resilience, you force yourself to grow. There isn't much to substitute for that. Living in Nashville has changed me a lot, and I really like the effect this town has had on my life.
7. ...that being said, there's no place like home. Texas is so very much in my blood... I literally grin every single time I drive over the state line in Texarakana. No matter how long I'm gone, I know without a shadow of a doubt I will return to the most familiar and welcoming open road under the brightest stars that exist, a rich history and bevy of stories that never cease to wrap me up, and every kind of terrain and personality I could hope to encounter. There's nothing like it, and I love that it's such a part of me.
8. There's a bold red lip hue for every girl. Find yours and pair it with a d'orsay pump and I dare say you'll never feel more empowered.
9. It's perfectly reasonable if, at the end of the day, the only being who seems genuinely excited that you exist skips around on four legs and is covered in wispy loops of soft fur (her big brown eyes reassure me of her endless adoration for me, every single time, without fail). Lesson: get a dog. You'll never have a better friend or learn more about love.
10. I'm a big proponent of faking it 'til you make it. Be confident, but take the time to learn what you don't know. Never stop learning or setting goals. Find someone you respect, someone you can emulate. To be constantly setting goals and reaching them is my definition of success. People will respect you if you show them you're passionate. Also? Work will never feel like work when you love what you do.
11. Odds are, you might lose your job at some point. It is NOT the end of the world, and often, as cliche as it sounds, it's often a blessing in disguise. You'll find work again, and likely, something you enjoy more, something that's an all-around better fit for you. Trust me.
12. Not having a prototypical lovey relationship with your Mom won't destine you to be a bad mom. And on the contrary, it will likely open you up to an unbelievably amazing relationship you'll foster with your dad.
13. Learn how to argue--it doesn't have to be combative. I am incredibly opinionated--and some of my favorite people to converse with have drastically different opinions than I. Respecting the opinions of others earns you a lot of respect, and those conversations have the ability to really keep life fun. (Sidenote: find something to believe in, and cling to it. Don't let others sway you... por ejemplo, I believe in Jesus, always fostering my insatiable desire to make this world a better place, and Art Briles).
14. Post a selfie if you want to... but for the love of God, own it. Who doesn't enjoy the ensuing compliments that roll in? But by all means, don't pair a ridiculous caption with it. Or act like your personal paparazzi team just shocked you with a random shot. Everyone sees right through it. We're girls--we post selfies. Just be conscious of your audience, please.
15. Sometimes the best therapy is listening to that latest jam you can't hear enough of... 20, 30 times in a row. Make a playlist of your college jams and it will take you straight back to dorm life like nothing else can. There are those few songs that will always, always unfailingly take you back to a moment in life. Remember the songs and you'll distinctly remember those moments.
16. Buy more of what you need and less of what you want. Shop for quality and don't try to justify a sale. Splurge on the expensive jeans because they last (true story--I have a pair of Sevens I bought in college that are in impeccable shape--and also two sizes too small right now, but dammit they're still around) and by all means, dress for your body type (and age). This will hopefully save you money and closet space--learn from my mistakes.
17. Never underestimate the power of a well-balanced cheese plate.
18. Write letters. Keep the ones people write to you.
19. Some things will never, ever make sense... and you'll make yourself crazy trying to figure them out. Learn when to let it go and let it be (this is much easier said than done).
20. Make it a point to play with kids... be it your own family or friends, or through volunteering, or church. One of the purest and sweetest ways to bring yourself back down to earth is to have a conversation with a five-year-old. Make them feel heard and you'll earn a friend for life.
21. You'll become who you're supposed to be when you stop trying to cram yourself into a box. It's such an elementary concept, but we hear throughout life how to stay unique, be an individual--and yet SO many milestones in life force us to adhere to parameters and stipulations. For me at least, I feel best when I'm defining myself and my life by my own guidelines. For a bulk of my early school days, I constantly felt like something was just off--I wasn't girly enough, I was too gangly, or not as witty as I could've been or as smart in math as I should've been. It helped to have my positive traits recognized, but the best part was when I honed in on them myself. I see this with my friends as they become wives and mothers--many of them seem to feel like they're coming up short in some aspect. I think if you focus on all the good you actually do, it's easier to feel whole.
22. When you surround yourself with good people, good things will happen.
23. We're all doing the best we can, and we all make mistakes. While there are people who will try to hurt you, in any chapter of life, all you can do is move on and keep your head up. You cannot change anyone, so remember what's in your control. Also, remember that everyone is fighting their own battle. Just because someone didn't reply to your text or call you back, or answered more curtly than you think was necessary, doesn't mean they're upset with you. Life happens--give people the benefit of the doubt.
24. I'm the biggest fan of technology like the iPad and Kindle--I love flipping them on and curling up for some mindless entertainment... but there's nothing like the weight of a book and the scent of ink on a magazine page.
25. I can't stress enough how much being super involved at a young age has impacted me. Some of my absolute best memories were from playing team sports, but a lot of my interpersonal and social skills arose from those early years too... so I'm not sure how this translates to you, in terms of advice... but maybe if you have kids and wonder if it's good for them, encourage them to try something--anything--at least once. You never know how it'll impact them for the rest of their lives. Plus, this has really opened me up to be adventurous even now... There's so much I want to do in this lifetime.
26. Planning can be the best part of the event but spontaneity is good for the soul.
27. Sometimes all that needs to be said is "I'm sorry."
28. When someone dear to you passes away, write down every single thing you can remember about them. Do this in the day or so after he or she dies. It sounds frivolous and maybe a bit odd, but over time, the little memories will fade, and maybe never resurface. I learned this first with my Mimi... and to this day, when I remember something she'd say, or a look she'd have, or an experience with her, I'll jot it down. I want to remember these silly little things, so I can share with my kids how incredible this woman was.
29. Learn how to stand up for yourself early on. Regardless of your support system, you'll get to a point where you need to be your own biggest fan.
What have been your biggest life lessons thus far?
September 16, 2014 • don't mess with texas, home sweet home, quizzical
My ten-year high school reunion was a few weeks ago. ten years. TEN.
just hold me for a minute.
since I was your trusty class secretary, I was tasked with the tag-teaming of planning the reunion... and I'm a little embarrassed to admit that in the weeks leading up to the event, I complained about allocating one of my precious Texas trips for the purpose of the reunion. I have had a ton going on this year--I try to go home every 3-4 months, but with the holidays and my brother's wedding, I've had more to pencil in during 2014 than I've had in the past couple of years. (In the end, the reunion was a lot more fun than I ever thought it would be.)
back story: I grew up in the tiniest, most Norman Rockwell-esque town known to man--my graduating class consisted of a whopping 115 people, many of whom I'd grown up with since kindergarten. most of them are still rocking the same area code. very little about my hometown has evolved since I walked that glorious stage back in june of 2004. with facebook, I've basically known what everyone is up to. people have gotten married, they've become parents. facebook can report a lot, but it can't tell you everything.
the planning process over the past few months really got me thinking: how would my former classmates see me? what would they remember about me? how am I different from my 18-year-old self?
the reunion came and went. we all had a great time (bonus! I heard from more than a couple people that I "look exactly the same" which was sweet, sweet music to my ears)... lots of karaoke with a side of flip cup. and when I got back to nashville, I stumbled across joanna goddard's most recent "personality test." in it, the person in question is supposed to sum herself up in five words. I loved that Nora Ephron reflected on the fact that her labels were never the same. I was instantly transported back to high school me, and how I've changed... and how I'll evolve even more in the coming years. here's how I'd have labeled my most telling qualities then and now:
it's funny, isn't it? how some things change, but really, how some--they just always stay the same.
how have you changed from your high school aged self? how would you label yourself now?
just hold me for a minute.
since I was your trusty class secretary, I was tasked with the tag-teaming of planning the reunion... and I'm a little embarrassed to admit that in the weeks leading up to the event, I complained about allocating one of my precious Texas trips for the purpose of the reunion. I have had a ton going on this year--I try to go home every 3-4 months, but with the holidays and my brother's wedding, I've had more to pencil in during 2014 than I've had in the past couple of years. (In the end, the reunion was a lot more fun than I ever thought it would be.)
(we got lots of family time in, ate all of the food I love so much, and managed to get to the inaugural game at mclane stadium too. best weekend ever.)
back story: I grew up in the tiniest, most Norman Rockwell-esque town known to man--my graduating class consisted of a whopping 115 people, many of whom I'd grown up with since kindergarten. most of them are still rocking the same area code. very little about my hometown has evolved since I walked that glorious stage back in june of 2004. with facebook, I've basically known what everyone is up to. people have gotten married, they've become parents. facebook can report a lot, but it can't tell you everything.
the planning process over the past few months really got me thinking: how would my former classmates see me? what would they remember about me? how am I different from my 18-year-old self?
the reunion came and went. we all had a great time (bonus! I heard from more than a couple people that I "look exactly the same" which was sweet, sweet music to my ears)... lots of karaoke with a side of flip cup. and when I got back to nashville, I stumbled across joanna goddard's most recent "personality test." in it, the person in question is supposed to sum herself up in five words. I loved that Nora Ephron reflected on the fact that her labels were never the same. I was instantly transported back to high school me, and how I've changed... and how I'll evolve even more in the coming years. here's how I'd have labeled my most telling qualities then and now:
high school me:
emphatic republican
spunky
aspiring journalist
small-town girl
sarcastic and cynical
and me, now:
texan
obsessive dog mama
baking enthusiast
baylor grad
hopeful
it's funny, isn't it? how some things change, but really, how some--they just always stay the same.
how have you changed from your high school aged self? how would you label yourself now?
July 1, 2014 • dig a little deeper, mimi, my dear mom
I've lived a little bit of life. I've had some hurt. A lot of hurt, it feels like sometimes. I firmly believe that every individual's life is a collaboration of those few mandated chapters--grade school, college, marriage for some, death for all--and those handful of hit-you-hard life events that completely shape you as a human being whether you ask for it or not. For some people, those overlap. For some, they don't.
The reminders of those milestones come at me at the most unexpected times. And when my life slows down, I am ever conscious of them.
I lost my grandmother, my Mimi around New Years 2010. Losing my mom in 2012 resulted in this deep-rooted pain that is still evolving, still confusing and unclear. But losing my Mimi brought a shocking heartache that is truly unparalleled. Four-and-a-half years later? Sometimes the hurt is as raw as it was the moment I found out she was gone.
She was only 62, seemingly healthy, although noticeably slower as she aged. She had a heart attack in the middle of the night, and by the time she realized what was happening, the drive to the hospital was a bit too far to save her. We'd spent months worrying about my Papa's heart--he'd had a pacemaker put in after some constant issues... and of course, Mimi was his stronghold through every bit of it. Christmas came and went, and I saw her for the last time just two days before she died. We spent the evening laughing over a card game (that she cheated at), and she happily agreed to alter a stack of dress pants for me. I remember hugging her close on the back porch when she walked me out, and waving to her silhouette as it glowed in the window as she stared out at me as I pulled out of their driveway into the dark winter night. We had all reiterated time and again how we were so ready for 2009 to be over--it had been a really shitty year. Illness, job loss and death swept our family over the latter half of '09. Two days after my last night with her, I was learning the ropes at a new job when my brother called to tell me she was in the hospital and it didn't look good. I called my aunt for some reassurance and the choke of her sobs were the indicator that my unimaginable fear was my new reality.
Something happens in your little chapter book when a pivotal person leaves your world as you know it. The scenes that piece together your days aren't as bright, the hope and excitement you have about life just isn't as exhilarating as it once was. And you're terrified that the dullness is here to stay... and in a way, it is. You seek light and happiness where you can, but I've learned that part of being an adult is experiencing the gnawing pain of loss. There's the obvious sadness of knowing my mom and grandmother will be absent from my wedding, and that they won't be spoil my kids on our holidays together. But it goes further than that.
When I hear the Eagles' "Desperado," it's a summer afternoon and I see my mom sitting cross-legged on the floor, in front of a blaring stereo and momentarily reliving her adolescent years, oblivious to her actual teenage daughter sitting behind her. She was endlessly proud of her long nails--a byproduct of her steroid regimen... so I think of her often when I'm touching up a manicure. I can't count the number of times I have wanted to call my Mimi--to tell her about a new job, or to ask her advice on a recipe. I never thought to ask for her chicken 'n dumplings recipe. I never imagined a world without her in it. The deepest of the pain is born from the most seemingly frivolous of moments.
Sometimes the pain is so real, the tears are there before I really realize why.
She wasn't just my grandmother--she raised me when my mom couldn't. She was always, always cheerful--always so happy to hear from me, from anyone she loved. She was my always my biggest fan. She was the glue that held our family together. Since she passed away, the shock has dissolved, but the grayness of her being gone is overpowering sometimes. Believe me when I say I miss her every single day. And part of me lives in this childlike bubble where I imagine she's still back home in Texas. That she's waiting on me to come play some gin rummy over sweet tea when I make it back home in August. That she's here, but not with me in Nashville.
Tonight, I was experimenting with a new recipe for chocolate cupcakes when my mind wandered to all of the incredible things Mimi would bake from scratch. I was measuring and pouring, mindlessly listening to some spotify jams when Great Peacock slid into queue on my playlist. As the tears stung my eyes, I flipped off the mixer just to stand silently and hear the lyrics I knew were coming (it's a hauntingly beautiful song by a local band, I highly recommend it). And all at once, I just missed her so, so much.
Sometimes, a girl just wants a conversation with her grandmother. I just need to hear her infectious laugh and have that utter confidence that this world is a beautiful place because this phenomenal, loving and spirited woman adores me and genuinely wants to hear every detail of my mundane workday.
Time waits for no man, and the years come and go. But the depth of sadness I have, missing the hugs from her 5'2" frame, and the sparkle in her gleaming brown eyes never changes.
Losing the people you love is undoubtedly the hardest part of this beautiful life.
The reminders of those milestones come at me at the most unexpected times. And when my life slows down, I am ever conscious of them.
I lost my grandmother, my Mimi around New Years 2010. Losing my mom in 2012 resulted in this deep-rooted pain that is still evolving, still confusing and unclear. But losing my Mimi brought a shocking heartache that is truly unparalleled. Four-and-a-half years later? Sometimes the hurt is as raw as it was the moment I found out she was gone.
She was only 62, seemingly healthy, although noticeably slower as she aged. She had a heart attack in the middle of the night, and by the time she realized what was happening, the drive to the hospital was a bit too far to save her. We'd spent months worrying about my Papa's heart--he'd had a pacemaker put in after some constant issues... and of course, Mimi was his stronghold through every bit of it. Christmas came and went, and I saw her for the last time just two days before she died. We spent the evening laughing over a card game (that she cheated at), and she happily agreed to alter a stack of dress pants for me. I remember hugging her close on the back porch when she walked me out, and waving to her silhouette as it glowed in the window as she stared out at me as I pulled out of their driveway into the dark winter night. We had all reiterated time and again how we were so ready for 2009 to be over--it had been a really shitty year. Illness, job loss and death swept our family over the latter half of '09. Two days after my last night with her, I was learning the ropes at a new job when my brother called to tell me she was in the hospital and it didn't look good. I called my aunt for some reassurance and the choke of her sobs were the indicator that my unimaginable fear was my new reality.
Something happens in your little chapter book when a pivotal person leaves your world as you know it. The scenes that piece together your days aren't as bright, the hope and excitement you have about life just isn't as exhilarating as it once was. And you're terrified that the dullness is here to stay... and in a way, it is. You seek light and happiness where you can, but I've learned that part of being an adult is experiencing the gnawing pain of loss. There's the obvious sadness of knowing my mom and grandmother will be absent from my wedding, and that they won't be spoil my kids on our holidays together. But it goes further than that.
When I hear the Eagles' "Desperado," it's a summer afternoon and I see my mom sitting cross-legged on the floor, in front of a blaring stereo and momentarily reliving her adolescent years, oblivious to her actual teenage daughter sitting behind her. She was endlessly proud of her long nails--a byproduct of her steroid regimen... so I think of her often when I'm touching up a manicure. I can't count the number of times I have wanted to call my Mimi--to tell her about a new job, or to ask her advice on a recipe. I never thought to ask for her chicken 'n dumplings recipe. I never imagined a world without her in it. The deepest of the pain is born from the most seemingly frivolous of moments.
Sometimes the pain is so real, the tears are there before I really realize why.
She wasn't just my grandmother--she raised me when my mom couldn't. She was always, always cheerful--always so happy to hear from me, from anyone she loved. She was my always my biggest fan. She was the glue that held our family together. Since she passed away, the shock has dissolved, but the grayness of her being gone is overpowering sometimes. Believe me when I say I miss her every single day. And part of me lives in this childlike bubble where I imagine she's still back home in Texas. That she's waiting on me to come play some gin rummy over sweet tea when I make it back home in August. That she's here, but not with me in Nashville.
Tonight, I was experimenting with a new recipe for chocolate cupcakes when my mind wandered to all of the incredible things Mimi would bake from scratch. I was measuring and pouring, mindlessly listening to some spotify jams when Great Peacock slid into queue on my playlist. As the tears stung my eyes, I flipped off the mixer just to stand silently and hear the lyrics I knew were coming (it's a hauntingly beautiful song by a local band, I highly recommend it). And all at once, I just missed her so, so much.
Meet me in the graveyard
when this life has passed you by
and the memories that you buy
they chase the night.
Float me in the heavens
when you've left the mountainside
and you're in the by-and-by
without a night.
And all I want, all I need, is you.
when this life has passed you by
and the memories that you buy
they chase the night.
Float me in the heavens
when you've left the mountainside
and you're in the by-and-by
without a night.
And all I want, all I need, is you.
Sometimes, a girl just wants a conversation with her grandmother. I just need to hear her infectious laugh and have that utter confidence that this world is a beautiful place because this phenomenal, loving and spirited woman adores me and genuinely wants to hear every detail of my mundane workday.
Time waits for no man, and the years come and go. But the depth of sadness I have, missing the hugs from her 5'2" frame, and the sparkle in her gleaming brown eyes never changes.
Losing the people you love is undoubtedly the hardest part of this beautiful life.
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