Divine Imperfections

Music Monday: How To Become An 'Overnight Success' & An Alternative to More Bieber

 

I heard and loved the song below after hearing it on Good Morning Texas recently.

 

It's a lot more twangy than I usually listen to, but the lyrics are spot on.

Knowing that the artist lives in good ol' McKinney, Texas makes it even cooler.

 

 

 

Before I married a musician I had no idea what it takes to break into the industry.

When reporters talked about musicians busting onto the scene, or becoming overnight successes, I believed them.

 

Now I know it doesn't really work that way (unless you're the child of a famous pop star, or one of only a handful of reality show contestants that actually become the superstars they're promised they'll be).

 

For most musicians, most artists in general I dare say, success comes neither quick or easy.

It must be clawed for, pined over, and worked at for years.

 

It requires literal blood, sweat, and lots of tears.

Loading cars. Booking gigs... and untold hours of behind-the-scenes and unglamorous work.

 

But that's precisely why I have so much respect for people like Zane (we're on a first-name basis now).

And people like my husband.

People who are willing to do whatever it takes, to use both the talents they were born with, and also all the skills painstakingly developed over time.

 

People that aren't in it to make millions, or land Pepsi endorsements.

But to share stories, through song. Because that's what they were created to do.

 

In very related news, The Sparrow and The Clay EP is so close to completion I can almost smell it.

And while it smells like burnt plastic and the other ins and outs of CD packaging and production, it also smells like a lot of hardwork and dedication finally coming to fruition.

 

It smells like patience about to pay off.

And a celebration to be had, very very soon.

 

 

Now, go spend the whopping $1.07 and go buy Zane William's single.

'Cause it's good to support good artists.

 

It lets them know their work has been worthwhile.

And it reminds you that despite what the radio indicates, there are alternatives to listening to Justin Bieber all summer long. 

 

You're welcome. ;) 

Life Lately: A Few Thousand Words

 

Life is busy. Life is good. 

 

I've been brainstorming, and tackling to-do lists, and getting older.

I've been enjoying time at home, and traveling to places near and not-so-far.

 

I've been planting plants.

And drinking copious amounts of coffee.

And falling in love with my camera all over again (and one cute puppy face too).

 

 

I've been wearing dresses, all my dresses. (And maybe adding a few more to the closet thanks to Target's pretty clearance section.)

 

And I've been doodling. And staying up late.

And gearing up for an upcoming wedding.

And seeing family. And appreciating Skype.

And spring.

 And I've been wondering where to go from here.

What to do from here.

 

I've reached a crossroads of sort. (Insert Bone Thugs-N-Harmony joke here.)

 

 

I still don't know the answers, only that lately, here feels like a fresh start.

A chance to start anew.

An opportunity, a challenge, to make this year the best year yet.

 

 

 

Here's to hoping, and dreaming, and wishing and praying and...

Happy thoughts about another wonderful weekend that's so close I can almost taste it.

 

Here I Go Again

I start, and stop.

I type, then delete.

I open a new document, then close it quickly.

 

I try, then I don't.

I'm stuck.

And I don't know where to go from here.

 

Writing has always been the thing that's come easiest to me.

Not math. Not art. Not talking (ughhh talking).

 

Writing is how I've best expressed myself.

It's how I've gotten things off my chest, preserved my sanity.

 

But lately I find myself stuck in a cycle.

I want to say something, but I don't know how, or if I should.

It all seems so silly. I feel very silly.

 

Who am I to say anything anyways?

 

So I draft posts I never publish.

I sit on ideas, or I bury them down deep. 

 

It feels like months have passed, with me barely scratching the surface of what's going on in my heart and my head.

And now I'm here, with so many thoughts (too many thoughts), thoughts I haven't shared, thoughts I haven't even made sense of for myself.

And with all these pesky ideas floating about, unchecked, it's hard to figure out my next move.

In a few days I'll enter the last year of my 20's. And that feels big, in a way I'd like to avoid.

I always get nostalgic around the date of my birthday, but this year it's worse.

This year it's full-blown overwhelming.

 

It's just so confusing how I got here.

It's like I went to bed worried about getting my driver's permit, and woke up here, with adult responsibilities.

 

I feel like I missed a class everyone else took, a class about growing up, learning the ropes of adulthood. 

And it weirds me out knowing I'm "old enough" to have kids, to buy a house, to do a lot of things I'm not doing right now.

It weirds me out seeing people my age look their age, and act their age, when most days I still feel like a foolish fifteen-year-old trapped in an unfamiliar body.

 

Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful for the great things that have happened in recent years, things I couldn't have imagined at 15.

 

I'm thankful for my husband, and new friends, for a job, a place to live and two working vehicles.

I'm thankful for my family, and living close enough to see them often.

I'm thankful to have old friends. I don't take that blessing of time for granted.

 

But I also feel stuck a lot of days, like I'm spinning my wheels.

 

What comes next? What should I do? 

How on earth do I spend this next fleeting year?

 

At 15 my plans were pretty clear. Finish high school. Finish college. Marry Paul Walker.

I had an idea where life was headed, and the steps how to get there.

 

Now, there are more questions than answers.

And there is no clear map. No Cliffs Notes. No easy, right way.

 

There's just life, one step at a time.

One day at a time, one year at a time.

 

Oy. I wasn't ready for this.

But here I am anyways.

 

I've toyed around with the idea of a bucket list to accomplish before I turn 30.

Maybe I will set that as a goal. But maybe life is enough of a goal.

 

I've also done a lot of thinking about this little ol' blog and where I want it to be headed.

But maybe a well-devised plan isn't the key to the kind of success I want.

 

Mostly I've just been scattered, and stuck, and overwhelmed.

(All familiar words if you've been here before.)

 

They're words I'd love to avoid, but words I may have to embrace instead.

'Cause they don't seem to be going away. And I'm tired of trying to outrun them.

 

Maybe it's silly to put this, of all things, out there.

I could've done a "Stuff I Want for My Birthday Post," or "Unique Ideas for Honoring Mom."

 

But here I am, putting my scattered thoughts on "paper."

Sending unfiltered, unorganized ideas out into the world.

 

'Cause maybe I'm hoping someone out there can relate, to the feeling that they missed that crash course in growing up.

Maybe someone else out there is struggling ungracefully through this shift into adulthood.

 

Maybe someone, anyone, needs to know that she's not alone, in not knowing what she's doing, while doing it anyway.

'Cause that's exactly where I am, not knowing how or why, but doing it anyways.

 

Writing and deleting.

Starting and stopping.

 

Taking one wobbly, unsure step at a time.

One day, and one birthday at a time.

 

I'm lookin' up, for now.

(We'll need to talk again when it's the big 3-0 I'm staring down.)

Five Minute Friday: JUMP

I want to jump up and scream.

I want to do anything at all. 

I want to react. I want to move.

 

But instead I sit, glued to the tv.

 

I'm scared the phone will ring.

 And I’ll be forced to fake a smile.

 

When there is no being professional today.

There is only spontaneous sobbing.

 

As I watch the news.

As I wonder what this world is coming to.

As I put myself in the shoes of wives whose husbands never returned home from the fire... 

Mothers tucking their babies into makeshift beds on cold gym floors at night, instead of the warm, safe cribs they are used to at home.

 

Life is so unfair.

It is awful, what has happened.

 

What continues to happen.

Daily it seems.

 

Tragedy.

Heart break.

Catastrophe.

Disaster.

 

My heart is heavy. 

The flags at half staff. 

 

And there’s no escaping it.

 

In my newsfeed. On the TV.

It’s all anyone is talking about, and I know why.

 

Because we can’t believe it, what has happened.

 

Some people are quick to help, to run in when trouble arises.

 

But others are jumping on bandwagons. 

And jumping to conclusions.

 

Jumping ship, before their political party goes down in flames.

 

Some want to shift blame. To cast stones. To name call.
 
They're chomping at the bit to make this a topic for debate…

 

While others are just trying to figure out where there next meal will come from. 

Or if they’ll ever walk again.

Or how to make their kids feel safe, in a world that seems to have fallen from its axis.

A world that has jumped course.

 

 

I hate not having answers.

I hate not knowing when things will get better.

 

So I pry myself off the couch, anxious to be doing something.

Anything.

 

Even if it is throwing sample shampoos and not-so-new tennis shoes into a box slated for donation. 

Even if it is hugging my husband every time I pass him in the hall.

Even if it is muttering humble, stunted prayers...

 

Why? How? What do we do now?

 

I can’t bring back lost loved ones, but I can be grateful for my own.

I can’t provide a home for those who’ve lost theirs, but I can offer a few of the comforts, the luxuries really, that I so often take for granted.

 

I can’t turn back time, or put the world back into an orbit that doesn't involve daily violence, and unspeakable tragedy…

 

But I can drag myself out of bed again tomorrow.

And I can utter those same small prayers.

 

And I can trust that will be enough.

'Cause it's all I can do...

 

With a heart this heavy.

And with hands this small.

Music Memory Monday: I Need a Hero

My initial response to tragedies, big and small, is almost always the same.

I want to curl up in the fetal position and cry, preferably under a blanket, so I can shut out and hide from the world.

 

When this is physically impossible, or after I’ve worked up just enough nerve to brave life outside the blanket, my secondary responses kick in.

 

Sometimes (like today, in light of the Boston Explosions) I turn to distractions, to take my mind off the troubles.

I spent the evening soaking in the sun and shopping for new plants, a chance to focus on new life, instead of tragic ends.

 

Sometimes I zone out instead, and become completely numb to anything and anyone.

The problem with this method of “coping” is that it’s hard to pull out of a zombie-like existence. And living on auto-pilot for any length of time, seems like a waste of precious breaths.

 

But ultimately, when the distractions cease, or I wake back up to reality, or I pull the blanket from over my head (or it gets taken from me), I must face whatever woes the world has thrown my way.

 

And it sucks. Can we say that? 

Sometimes, facing this messed up world we share sucks.

 

 

Don’t worry. This isn’t where I post a picture of a cat and say something about hanging in there.

Those words are too trite to touch on a hurt of this magnitude.

 

What I will say is that I’m thankful we don’t have to face hardships alone.

I’m thankful for heroes that run in when they’re needed most, like those we saw today.

And I’m thankful there’s A Hero we can call on any time.

 

(Yes; the graphics are cheesy. But I love the lyrics.)

 

Weeks ago I listened to this song on repeat, while going through a tough time personally.

Tonight I’m so thankful it’s written about Someone who cares enough to hear each of our small, silent struggles, yet powerful enough to offer healing for the deepest wounds throughout the world.

In this quiet living room. In Boston. And beyond.

 

We may not know why bad things happen. I sure don’t, and I won’t pretend to.

But I am thankful that deep in my soul I know the bad stuff isn’t the whole story.

 

Above and beyond heinous acts,
there is always bravery and goodness and HOPE.

 

Hope is the result of seeing heroes in action.

And Hope exists in knowing that eventually Love always wins.

 

I pray that something here, in this song or even this confession of my own cowardice, might give your heart some hope.

 

Hope to face tomorrow.

To cry as needed.

To cope...

 

Knowing you're not alone.

 

"A hero who'll dare to find me, fly to my rescue and crash through the wall. 
Announce my freedom, bring me to my senses. 
Gather me into His strong arms, and carry me on to safety."
               - Chris Rice


 

Weekend Update: Hangin' with our Homies

We're so close to this weekend I can almost taste it.

In the meantime, here's a quick look at what we were up to eight days ago.

 

Hope it helps you get through those last two long work days.

You already know the hubs had a concert this past Saturday, in my hometown of all places. That was super fun.

But what you don't know is how we killed the rest of our weekend.

And boy did we kill it. (That's still a good thing, right?)

 

Here we go!

 

There are no pictures from work last Friday (imagine that!), but I did capture one quick snapshot of my remaining plant babies before we left home.

(So far this spring I've literally killed a cilantro, a rosemary and a basil plant - or two. And... the season is young yet. :/

I have increasingly low hopes, even for the cacti, hence the picture.)

 

Saturday "the boys" and I walked to the nearest (only) coffee shop in town, where they were spotted, which was pretty cool.

 

"Are you that band?" a stranger asked.

 

Why yes, they are that band. :) You know, the one band.

 

Thanks to last-minute packing I spent Saturday afternoon frantically hitting up four-stores trying to hunt down any remaining sweatshirts in Texas.

Eventually success was found at Kohl's.

But really the whole trip was fun, thanks to very good company. (Old friends are the best!)

 

Saturday night after the concert (our first selling shirts by the way - thanks everyone that purchased one!) Mikael and I celebrated the way we usually do after a show.

By eating our weight in Whataburger. (So many regrets. :) )

 

Sunday we spent the day recouping from our wild, crazy weekend (mostly the Whataburger) by leaving the house only once, for a lunch break with our cousins.

This time, we went vegan. Only, because I'm me, I ordered the least healthy options I could find.

 
A white sausage covered burrito, AND a cookies and cream shake (made with almond milk)?

Yup; they were delicious.

And the trip was fun, as always.

 

I've never lived close to my cousins, so it was great inheriting awesome ones through Mikael.

 

And that was last weekend in words.

But I know what you really want is more pictures.

 

So, here's Teddy (my favorite puppy nephew) helping me blog.

I'm thinking he's the cutest assistant I ever did see. 

While we were up to that, what were you guys doing this weekend? Anything fun?

More importantly...

 

What are your big plans come Friday?

 

Related articles

Weekend Update: A Conference, A Concert, and Plenty of Coffee

Weekend Update: A Fresh Feeling

Weekend Update: A Birthday Bash and Band Practice

The Reluctant Reader: A Not-so-friendly Farm

It took the better part of an evening, and four pages of notes, but I devoured George Orwell’s Animal Farm in one intoxicating, frustrating and thought-provoking sitting.

 

The premise of his book – one caught somewhere between short story and traditional novel – sounds silly.

It begins with a rebellion that leaves animals in charge of a farm once owned and cruelly operated by a Mr. Jones.

 
At that plot synopsis you’d probably expect it to be children’s fare, but let’s make it clear right now, Orwell’s creation bears no semblance to the jovial place Old McDonald used to have.

In fact, these animals are singing somber Battle Hymn of the Republic type stuff, not the “moo moo here” tunes you might be expecting.

 

So yes, on its surface it might be a fanciful story about animal upheaval, but at its heart it is political satire, with timely and disturbing implications.

(And before you give me credit for picking such a sophisticated book, know the selling point was the awesome artwork and the $1 pricetag. I'm loving the random assortment of books I'm finding while thrifting for bargain bin treasures. You'll see lots more popping up soon.)

 

In one sense, Animal Farm is an engrossing exploration of the power of hope, but mostly it sheds cautionary light on the blindness that often accompanies it.

I won’t spoil the ins and outs of the story line for you, particularly since it is such a quick read, one appropriate for any reader old enough to understand how getting drunk works (there are several references to the distilling process, and a few instances of hungover porkers).

 

What I will tell you is that fear mongering and propaganda are prominently featured, but in a slightly less nauseating way than in the last presidential debate (if only ‘cause the animals seem to have an innate excuse for their bad behavior).

 

While the characters’ primary concerns are those of (I imagine) most typical farm animals – food, shelter, not being eaten, and having a nice field to be put out to, upon retirement – it doesn’t take a genius, or even a particularly well-informed voter, to realize how frighteningly close to home some of the underlying themes hit.

 

And while I suppose some might be frustrated with a book that asks more questions than it answers, as this one certainly does, I appreciated that fact greatly. Without a clear-cut good or bad guy, right or wrong way of doing things, the book forced me to ask myself a lot of tough questions.

 And sometimes, like it or not, I need that.

 

Is it okay, even necessary to question authority?

Are the loudest voices always the wisest?

How thin is the line between working under and being slave to someone? 

How much power is too much power?

Do we truly remember where we came from, or only the regurgitated stories fed to us by superiors?

Are we asking people to contribute what they can, in an effort to care for all?

Or are we exploiting some, and allowing others to live off their titles/haunches?

 

Those were just a few of the questions I was left pondering after reading the 131-page paperback.

I was also left wondering which of the characters I identify most closely with – Snowball the Pig, Boxer the Work Horse, one of the unnamed sheep bleating mindlessly at the first sign of dissent.

 

While I can’t answer that question just yet, probably ‘cause I sadly identified with so many of the stupid animals, I do have a pretty good idea which characters I don’t want to be.

And I think that is a helpful start.

 

The entire novel reminded me of the old adage:

It also shone light on how eerily easy it is to do nothing.

More often that not I am a do nothing kind of girl.

For the most part I go with the crowd, I fall in line, I accept what I’m told, without researching for myself.

I tend to be so comfortable living with the status quo – even if it’s a horrible status quo – that I’ll try to convince myself a lie is true, if it saves me from having to ruffle a few feathers, especially my own.

 

But reading Animal Farm I was reminded why I really should be more cautious, why I should take advantage of how easy it has become to stay well-informed.

 

It reminded me why I need to pay closer attention to the voices I let speak into my life, the messages I’m buying into, much less preaching from my soap box.

 

It also reminded me that some things are worth taking a stand on, regardless of the cost.

And if anyone knows a thing or two about costs, surely it's a bunch of overworked, underpaid farm animals.

 

 

I think it's a great testament to Orwell's writing abilities that he was able to squeeze such tough questions into such an unassuming fable, like dog meds in a slice of American Cheese, or those quick news blurbs MTV shows between trashy music videos and drunk people in hot tubs.

His story uses innocent-appearing animals to highlight so many of the moral shortcomings we all face.

 

The picture he paints also makes it very clear that people can't help the way they're born, any more than the animals can.

We can, however, choose not to be complacent.

We can choose not to bury our heads in the sand, even if we are a little stupid at math...

 

I think people like me are the ones with the most to gain from reading a book like Animal Farm.

People not only known for backing down from a fight, but nearly incapable of giving an honest, unfiltered opinion about almost anything. 

People so eager to please they'll compromise a great many things.

People so concerned with their own comfort, they don't bother to think about the cost of their being cozy.

 

I mean, I doubt most sadists are going to readily accept a moral lesson presented to them in fiction, much less in dirty pig form.

But us sheep, us go with the flow, scared to step out of line folks… we could do worse than to learn boldness and courage from a bunch of fledgling farm animals.

 

We could do a lot worse, like nothing at all.

And that's my biggest take away from Animal Farm.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow

I'm incredibly thankful to live in a free country, one where citizens' voices can be heard.

I'm thankful to be able to have opinions without fear of persecution (aside from the occasional Facebook taunting).

I'm thankful we can disagree, but still live together mostly peacably.

 

I’m thankful for free speech.

I’m thankful for the ability to vote (though in full dislcosure I didn't this year, so feel free to ignore whatever I have to say).

I'm thankful to be an American.

 

But, and I don't say this lightly,  I am so ready for tomorrow to be here.

 

I'm ready to wake up and see that the world is still spinning, in spite of silly predictions from the nation's biggest extremists.

I'm ready to see if people actually do move to Canada, like their cheap threats have implied.

 

I'm ready to get back to our "regularly scheduled programming," so to speak.

And frankly, I'm ready to see what SNL does with the material all this campaigning has brought about.

 

And I know I probably won't see elephants and donkeys joining hooves and singing songs tomorrow, or drinking Coke.

I know we won't suddenly all like each other, and agree with each other, or forget about what's been said, or yelled, leading up to this point.

 

I know a lot of people will be disappointed, disillusioned, no matter who wins tonight.

Most importantly all those shiny people masquerading as "journalists."

 

But to me, the most troubling aspect of every election isn’t who wins or loses.

It’s how the game is played.

 

 

And that’s why I’m so ready for tomorrow.

 

I'm ready for the country to feel less divided. Less hostile. And for my Twitter feed to go back to featuring posts about what was had for lunch, and complaints about traffic, anything besides rants about how people that disagree with you are idiots, unworthy of air.

 

I'm ready for pastors to return to preaching about anything besides politics (and thankful that some did resist the urge to resort to bumper sticker spirituality).

 

I'm ready to wear red or blue, without being labeled.

And ready to turn on the television without hearing someone "approve" messages bashing his opponent.

 

But more than anything, I’m especially ready to see more Angry Birds, Hello Kitty, and anything but big heads vying for my attention (and quarters).

 

I don't really want to be sold on a political party, or a person.

I don't want to put all my hope into a human.

 

I want to see a flawed system start to be restored.

I want to see people working together towards positive change, instead of seeing our nation's leaders act like drunken fans of opposing football teams.

 

I want to see a united front. Meaningful conversation. Intelligence and grace.

 

There are still big questions to be answered, big problems to be tackled, and a lot of civilized dialogue that needs to take place in Washington, and across our great country.

And I'll admit, those talks are hard. They're uncomfortable. They stretch us, and push us (painfully at time) to think beyond our own preconceptions, our own prejudices (and we ALL have them).

 

But I'm so thankful that all that can start now, the coming together instead of the tearing apart.

The looking for common ground instead of attacking of differences.

The paying attention to what really matters, instead of honing in on “hot button” issues.

 

I'm thankful that tomorrow is a new day, in a season of thanksgiving.

And we all have a lot to be thankful for this year.

Five for Feeling Better

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, a naive girl set out on a mission. She wanted to choose gratitude. Every day.

But Fridays especially, she wanted to count her blessings, five to be exact. (She likes alliteration. And simple math.)

 

She was trying to make a conscious effort to be grateful.

Even when times got tough. Even when a lot seemed to be going wrong.

She wanted to take time to be thankful for what was right.

She wanted to accentuate the positive.

 

It might have been cheesy. It might have seemed silly.

But... she needed it. And I do too.

(Which makes a lot of sense, considering that girl - as we probably all know - was me.)

 

The past few months have been exhausting. And trying.

Emotionally. Financially. Spiritually.

I've been spent.

 

I reached the end of my rope, or wits, or whatever you want to call it.

I was on the verge, and maybe just over the edge, of a breakdown.

It hasn't been pretty.

   

I also haven't felt much like myself, which is perhaps worse than just feeling miserable.

I like to fancy myself fairly positive. Pretty peppy.

But here lately I've been a Gloomy Gus and then some.

There's just been so much change. So much stress. So much change, did I mention that already?

It was overwhelming. I didn't handle it well. At all.

And yet, here I am.

I'm alive.

It's like the clouds are finally lifting. The sun is finally rising.

Or maybe I've just taken off the blinders long enough to see what's been there all along.



However you want to look it, for the first time in a long time, I'm finally feeling a little better than unwell.

And I have an opportunity to do better moving forward.

And I'm so grateful that I'm finally realizing that doing better does not mean perfect.

 

I'm also becoming increasingly convinced that the point of life isn't to become more like someone else (even a really great someone), but instead to become the best possible version of ourselves.

We can find inspiration from heroes. We can pinpoint characteristics we want to develop. But if we spend our lives trying to become duplicates of someone else we'll never succeed, and we'll never be happy.

 

I don't yet know exactly what "my personal best" is gonna be, but I have a sneaky suspicion it starts with wearing something other than stretchy pants, and sharing my life with people other than the cast of Grey's Anatomy.

That's a start, right? I sure hope so.

 

I also think I must begin by being grateful, right here, where I'm at, for the blessings already in my life, even though my life still seems like a mess sometimes.

I want to choose gratitude, even when I'm tempted to get down.

I want to look at what's right, even when a lot is going wrong.

And I want to choose to live my life, instead of waiting, or struggling against my circumstances. I want to be grateful for this day. For each day.

 

For me, I think going back to an old (forgotten) tradition might help too.

So, let's not mind the fact that it took me four days to actually complete this list. Instead let's look at this as a bonus Friday, another chance to count my blessings, right up to Five.

 

1.) After a long season of really bad car luck, we have two working vehicles at the moment (and a bicycle too). And for that, I'm incredibly thankful.

"FREEEEE DOMMMM!!!!" is what that means to me... freedom to purchase toilet paper and hide it in a trunk, instead of walking (parading) home with it in tow... and freedom to hit up Happy Hour and return with my Vanilla Coke happily nestled in a cup holder, instead of trying to cram it into the water bottle spot on my bike.

2.) I've often heard it takes a community to raise a child, but I had no idea how much help it'd take to get a couple through their first year of marriage.

We have received incredible support from both our families during the past year, both in planning a super quick wedding, making a cross-state move, storing the contents of said move (including us) and getting our vehicles operational once again. THANK YOU FAMILY, so much. We literally wouldn't be where we are without you.

3.) The house smelled like heavenly pot roast all day today (yesterday now).

This is something I'm particularly grateful for since Mikael made it - yay! - and also, because this time last week the entire house smelled like leaky sewage pipes. We've come a long way folks.

4.) I may not always love my job, but I'm so grateful to have it (and not just 'cause in this economy any job is a blessing). Yes, I spend most of my days explaining why book titles should be capitalized, and distinguishing the difference between attending "collage" and "college." And yes, sometimes this makes me unreasonably frustrated.

But, my bosses are incredible, my hours flexible and my attire super duper casual... I am definitely blessed in the employment field. Big time! Did I mention I get to drink lots of coffee and use red pens? SCORE!

5.) Until I got married myself I didn't have a clue what it would entail. I had no idea how difficult it would be, but I also had no idea how much joy was  to come. Lazy mornings and late night giggle fests are my favorite times. There's something so comforting about being with someone at your physical worst - delirious, mascara-stained, or morning breathy - and realizing you're utterly loved, unconditionally. Powerful stuff! Love. Acceptance. Laughter.

 

 

Thanks for letting me practice my math today friends.

It means a lot.

 

 

Currently:

Life has gotten pretty hectic lately.

Work has picked up for both Mikael and I, meaning our 'laxin and chillin' time has decreased significantly.

 

Sadly, our more jam-packed schedule (and some pure laziness on my part) has meant a lot less picture taking and life chronicling than I really prefer. Still, there are a few snapshots I've been meaning to share. (And need to, before these little tidbits slip through the cracks.)

 

Here's a glimpse at what our life looks like, currently:

*A current shot of my "home office"

* Some blog brainstorming over a solo lunch, before a mini roadtrip we took Wednesday

* My new friend, a hand-me-down bike perfect for looking like a dork about town (I'm horribly unnatural as a biker chick)

* Close-toed shoes and ankle jeans... signs that fall is coming quickly

* A drive we've been making lots lately

* And last, but not least, two coffee cups, which I'm extra grateful for since time with the Hubs has become extra precious as of late

 

Life isn't perfect, but I'm counting my blessings.

I'm extra grateful to be starting a new season, one sure to be filled with cuddling under snuggly blankets, lots of vanilla lattes, boots, biking (maybe), crunchy leaves and CORNYDOGS!

 

Hope your fall is starting scrumptiously too.