Figures.

It figures that the one day I actually feel like going for a run is the same day we have torrential rain and a tornado warning.

I guess that's the universe's way of telling me to finally make those phone calls to faraway friends, light a candle and doze off with book in hand.

Or maybe I'll sit on my dark porch, catching glimpses of my still unfamiliar street as the lightning crackles from above.

I think this qualifies as a win-win situation.

Oh August.

"Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address." You've Got Mail

I will always always associate August with new beginnings. Possibly more so than springtime and definitely more than New Year's. In August I get the itch to start something new, to revamp my routines. To buy new colored pencils and take on crafty projects. To navigate the messy, picked-over aisles of folders and glue sticks in search of something new and bright to make me want to be organized and on top of everything once again.

If new trapper-keepers and locker combinations don't get your heart racing anymore, you'll be happy to know that August hosts many other worthy reasons for excitement. It happens to be Romance Awareness Month, National Picnic Month, and Admit You're Happy Month. So head outside with blanket and basket in tow. Lie in the grass and admit that you have it good. And bring along someone kind of special, you know, if you feel the urge. Annnnd...if you do all this tomorrow (August 6) go barefoot in recognition of National Wiggle Your Toes Day.

~Stephen Frykholm, Herman Miller Summer Picnic August 5, 1977~

A Good Day

I have, literally, the most amazing friends in the world. I mean, who would meet Matt Nathanson, hear him mention "making the kids", and STILL think of little ol' me?

Summer reading

Tonight I ventured to the lovely public library to:
a) return my embarrassingly overdue books
b) check out more books to maintain the overdue tradition, and
c) continue my now-annual light summer re-reading of (wait for it...) the Harry Potter series.

Did you realize I was such a nerd? Don't answer that. The truth is, I allow myself to relax and read "comfort" books during the hazy days of summer. Like comfort food, comfort books are familiar, filling, and predictable. There's no risk of the unexpected, and mental exertion is kept to a minimum. I love getting cozy with a well-worn book in the afternoon, drifting into a light doze, and awaking to pick up at the exact same sentence, no re-orientation necessary.

This doesn't mean that I completely rule out new and more literary options (my current recommendation is Jeffrey Eugenides oddly touching and often unsettling anthology, My Mistress's Sparrow is Dead.) But my main goal during the summer is to relax, devour easy pages and take things a little less seriously than I usually do.

So when I go to the library to check out the next volumes of my light reading, on a night specifically set aside for me to read/sleep at my leisure, and all the copies are checked out, I have to improvise. My first thought?..."Well, this is the perfect time for me to pick up one of the titles on my 'Books I Can't Believe I Haven't Read Yet' list." And, I happened to land in the Fal-Fea aisle, bringing me to The Sound and the Fury (quite the leap from Harry and his Hogwart's pals). I haven't battled with Faulkner since American Lit. And I'm a little nervous because last time I'm pretty sure he won...wish me luck.

Lesson of the night? Gas prices and stamps aren't the only commodities creeping up in price. The unfriendly woman at the desk wouldn't let me walk out with the book until I paid my exorbitant late fees. $11 people! And I've lived here less than a year! And to think that not too long ago, a few nickels would settle the score..

Columbia Haiku

The last steps to home:
A new place to rest my head
And old, true, close friends.




The everyday-ness of love in my life right now is a bit overwhelming, and definitely not something I've experienced in this capital city before. But as I prepare for a bit of reading this Tuesday night, I feel full. For the first time in a long time.

ps- I thought of writing an ode. But odes are lonnnng. Haikus are much better for my about-to-go-to-sleep, writing-on-a-whim style. 5-7-5 and done. Woot.

"A loose interpretation of work"*

After a little too much recent web browsing, I stumbled upon this funny nugget. My personal favorite is the entire text of George Orwell's "Animal Farm" disguised as an ad agency's power point. Geeeenius.

(Now, obbbviously, I would never dream of doing this at work. But it is certainly original and if you find yourself in a mind-numbingly boring job with a computer monitor that faces office traffic, it may be just the stimulation your intellect needs to survive until 5:00.)

Also, the lovely Skirt! Morning Muse directed me to the 'advice to sink in slowly' site. I love all these quirky posters created by recent graduates with words of wisdom for first year students. If you're the gift buying sort, I need nothing more than the postcard pack wrapped in a big blue bow. And it's only 6 quid!



What will you be doing with all your extra light on this solstice day?

*Andy Warhol

There is only one man in the world allowed to take care of me.

I have a pretty good track record with males in my life. And I think my luck, or good judge of character, can be traced back to the very first male in my life- my father. This is a man who laughed instead of getting angry when my brother and I accidentally set the toaster on fire. A funny man with leathery skin that smelled like summer after he would mow our lawn. A man who taught me to make the gooiest grilled cheese sandwiches, the value of working hard, and the art of asking for help. Financial adviser, roadside assistance operator, and giver of honest hugs.

I was able to be home on the day we are told to honor and recognize all the father figures in our lives. We celebrated with church, a trip to Best Buy (how cliché) and arguing over who would fill my car with gas (I lost...surprise surprise. I'm a spoiled girl, but at least I know I'm spoiled, right?)

I was also home long enough to scrounge up these gems of us in all our 80s glory.