I like to think of myself as a pretty consistently thankful human. I keep my gratitude journal. Like any respectable Southern woman, I am diligent about sending my thank you notes. I routinely remind myself how good I've got it in this life.

That said, everyone knows this time of year is a glaring reminder to keep that perspective front and center. After this rollercoaster of a year, I've been especially reflective about the loads I have to be grateful for... big and small. In no particular order... here's a corralling of thirty little pieces of what makes me a happy, happy girl every single day:


I'm so very thankful for:

1. the utter joy of living in a city that suits me so perfectly, a place I keep falling in love with, five-and-a-half years after first skipping into town.
2. my crazy, wavy head of hair and the ability gift of only having to wash it but maybe twice a week. (oh. and dry shampoo).
3. my adorable Greek guy who is endlessly thoughtful and encouraging--while challenging me to be a better version of myself, making me laugh from my gut and always, always reaching over to hold my hand... and taking me to Costco.
4. the ability to step onto a plane and be home in Texas in a mere two hours--and the incredible people there who know me better than I know myself sometimes.
5. ...namely my amazing daddy-o and the tirelessly way he's loved me for more than thirty-one years. His dependable dry wit, token one-liners and boundless wisdom are way up there too.
6. the way I feel beautiful in an old pair of jeans, some Kendra Scott hanging from my earlobes, a pair of my broken-in Frye boots and that signature bold, red lip.
7. my battered, nine-year-old Macbook and the familiar pull of settling in with her to tap out my stories on its well-worn keys.
8. Whataburger taquitos.
9. coworkers who are just as dedicated to belly-laughing and cutting loose with each other, as they are to our cause.
10. the 24 years I had, learning from my magnificent Mimi. the graceful way she loved and served everyone around her and served as the utmost in examples of how to live this life on earth.
11. my insatiable curiosity, lifetime love for research and reading... and subsequent appreciation for Amazon prime.
12. the way my parents raised my brothers and me to glean our own views and opinions... and the way I can banter and debate with my dad about our differences now that I'm an "adult."
13. never having ever had a car payment. (let's take a moment to pray my 15-year-old BMW gets me through to springtime).
14. the safety net of my Monday night small group girls, their fiery hearts for Jesus, and the steadfast way we love and support each other through this crazy life.
15. the rush of that first downbeat, as everyone rises to their feet at a much-anticipated concert.
16. the generosity and authenticity my stepmom Jules has always been relied upon for--and her potato salad and cornbread stuffing recipes.
17. my overall health--and the fact that I have the means and ability to seek out help when I need it, and the phenomenal doctors in my corner, who are warm, endearing and ridiculously knowledgeable.
18. the gift of being crafty and creative--how it refuels my soul, and that I'm able to love on people around me with handwritten cards, homemade breads, or custom cross-stitched goodies.
19. getting wrapped up in a season of Saturdays of college football rivalries and upsets.
20. the effortless way I found my family in Nashville--the loyalty and love of incredible friends here who have opened their hearts and homes to me, and given my life a glittery light that I never expected to unveil.
21. quality Lululemon on sale.
22. getting lost in a Netflix marathon with aforementioned adorable Greek.
23. the solitude I found in my two years in one teensy, suburban apartment--recollecting myself and detouring off onto a much better path than I could've mapped out for myself.
24. being old (and I daresay wise) enough to let go of the bitterness I wore like a jacket, being known as the kid with a sick mom... and instead, truly being thankful for the good time I had with her--and the undeniable fact that I inherited her spunky attitude, insane sweet tooth, and unquestionable wearing of one's heart-on-one's sleeve.
25. the wave of relaxation that wraps me up at the conclusion of my restorative yoga class.
26. that ten-year-old fluff nugget who is as entertaining as she is loving. I am forever attached to that little dog.
27. the excitement of a new address! new house in a new neighborhood, and all of the requisite exploring and excitement that comes along with it.
28. my continued, yet questionable ability to operate on minimal sleep.
29. the syrupy sweet memories (and telltale naiveté) that my Norman Rockwell childhood and Texas roots forever etched in my heart.
30. the comfort, grace and direction that my faith steers my life. 

The last month of my thirties was marked by all of the celebrations: the requisite birthday shindigs, with a side of revving up for the holidays too. And so, so much champagne.

November is traditionally my golden month: autumn is firmly in place, my birthday is at the end of the month, Thanksgiving has long been my favorite holiday... it's just unquestionably, the best thirty days of the year for me. December is much too bustly and anxiety-ridden, but November? November is all mine.

And for the highlights... I've upped my fundraiser game significantly in 2016--and had a blast at Taste of Nashville with friends I've grown closer to in 2016--and helped with Our Kids Hammer Down race early in the month. The dreaded election came and went, and we all held our collective breath for the duration of a Tuesday night--luckily, I was tipping back the bubbles at a surprise bridal shower I helped throw for one of my best friends that evening, so we had ample distraction from the circus. An obscene number of hours was spent skipping around my kitchen, prepping (that damn green bean casserole) for a handful of different Friendsgivings. I logged the last few outdoor runs of the season (thirty-one years and still not a morning person, so that ain't happening before work)--thankful the temperature and daylight savings time offered to be on my side for a bit longer. My sweet, sweet friends spoiled the hell out of me with--count 'em--four birthday parties. And I rounded it all out with the loveliest Thanksgiving here in Nashville with my sweet friend Morgan, and her adorable family.

All in all? Exactly what I needed. November was the proverbial bow on top of a pretty charming year, highlighted by friends who have thankfully and effortlessly become my family, showering me with their love, depth, laughs, and endless loyalty. "Friends" just seems like too hollow and generic a word for the category of people I've been surrounded by since moving her. Cheesiness, be damned: I am so, so thankful--every single day, I'm thankful.

At 31, I am still hopelessly in love with this town, its quirks, its magnetism--but undoubtedly, the absolute best element of my life are the people who I'm so unimaginably fortunate, love me as hard as they do.

Come at me, 31... I'm so ready for you.

Today, I'm a mere month shy of 31. The theme of the past several weeks has been go, go, go. I haphazardly dipped my toe in the dating pool, kept trucking along with Junior League and Special Olympics events, and took some time out for--what else--live music. Pilgrimage fest was even better than I expected it would be (Langhorne Slim, City and Colour, and Kacey Musgraves being the highlights--in addition to the 300+ folks we got registered to vote!), and a return trip to ACL was just what my soul needed... so much of my favorite music in my favorite city, right smack dab in the middle of a week with all of the people who know me best. I spent a lot of quality time--usually over Mexican cuisine--with my Pops (and visited with mom too), and laughed and wined with my Baylor friends as if no time has passed since I left Texas four years ago. Hockey season returned (!), and all at once we found ourselves basking on the porch, soaking up the chilly nights and dewy mornings of a changing season as our pool days concluded. My girlfriends have been a welcomed, constant fixture on weeknights and weekends alike, as we find any excuse to make grandiose events out of chili nights and debate-watching parties. I excitedly hopped on board a spin bike for the first time in months, as my friend opened a brand spanking new studio on the east side. I also ventured back to Vanderbilt to work my fifth year at Reunion--which is always a ton of fun for me, reigniting all of excitement of playing event manager, if only for one night.

Working out and sleep took a backseat, but I still managed to somehow get exactly what I needed. Crazy to think that in just a handful of weeks, a new year--of promise and challenges, growth and so much laughing--will be at my feet. Until then, I'm (planning on) taking time to just lay a little low.

But then? Bring it on 31.

Three years.

Three. More than 1000 days...

How?

This place has officially--as of today, June 1--been "home" for three years--longer than any other home base I've had since college. I made the move to Nashville for a few reasons--mostly for ST and our relationship, but largely because I was satiating a nagging itch for a change of pace. New surroundings. A fresh routine. And bit-by-bit, I found it all... but mostly, I expanded my family and I found a home.

Life as a resident of Nashville kickstarted with a job I appreciated, residing in a trendy-esque zip code, and finally experiencing day-to-day--the good, bad and ugly--with my guy. My familiar comforts of a few decades at home virtually dissolved overnight--the fact of the matter is, I committed to little to no mental prep about all I was leaving in Texas... my hometown, my network of family and friends, my beloved job. I felt my move date imminently creeping up as I packed box after box and rattled off my tearful goodbyes, but looking back, I vaguely sensed an eleventh-hour minor panic about making new, good friends, about fitting in. Mind you, my prototypical ESFJ self had never really let me down in the avenue of melding right into most groups I was ever dropped into, and yet, as the first few weeks of Nashville life rolled by, I desperately missed the company of my Texas girlfriends and felt the gnaw of their absence in my life. Aside from a few Twitter contacts (some of whom have since become some of my best friends), I had absolutely no one to lean on aside from ST.

But as it happened, most of these distant Twitter girls had also recently transplanted to Nashville: we were all braving the gray, murky water in the same proverbial boat.

And brave it, we did, wholeheartedly diving onto the pathway together, one happy hour and TV night at a time. As I did my part to foster these friendships, I eased into what I now think of as my grown-up self (if I can be so bold). ST and I immersed ourselves in a church we love, and I joined the junior league. I (somewhat impulsively) became a nanny to fill my scant spare time, and ST and I carefully honed our own routines of menial tasks like grocery shopping and exploring new dinner haunts.The weeks became months, I was confident in not summoning my GPS app on a daily basis, and suddenly? I had my grocery store, and my dry cleaners, and my dog groomer, and this? This was home.

As infectiously charming as Nashville has been for me, the people are truly what have done it for me. They're family. ST, especially... who knew sharing a home could deepen and season a relationship, right? ;) In all seriousness, he has been so tremendously supportive and encouraging of every single thing that I do and I couldn't for one second imagine trotting down this trail without him.

I'm actually home in Texas this weekend for a wedding, a graduation and a camping trip (yes, I know). Last night at the wedding, a good friend began with, "so... are you feeling it? Nashville lifer?" And without hesitation, I felt the smile spread across my face as I nodded slightly and said, "you know... I think so."

There are absolutely some elements of Texas that will unequivocally never be able to be replicated elsewhere for me... but all things considered? I daresay I've found my way home.