1. Hesed.  I didn’t know what this word meant until this weekend. Not in some metaphorical way… like “I didn’t know what Love was until I met you” sort of thing. I literally had never heard of it.  Which is strange (even though it’s Hebrew) considering I have experienced it so many countless times. I am often blown away by new words… words that until the moment of hearing, I only knew of their meaning, not the name. Words like feuille-morte, crepuscular rays, petrichor. (Look those up if you don’t know them!) Hesed is one of the most beautiful examples of that. I’ve studied the book of Ruth before, but only in the context of Relationships and Boys and Waiting For a Boaz Kind of Man. Never in the context of Hesed. Sunday morning at Adult Sunday School, studying Ruth, I learned the word I’ve spent my life discovering.  Hesed is a quality that moves someone to act for the benefit of someone else without considering “what’s in it for me?” The word hesed is usually translated “kindness” or “lovingkindness.” Hesed is difficult to translate because it stands for a cluster of ideas—love, mercy, grace, kindness. It wraps up in itself all the positive attributes of God.  Hesed is one of the Lord’s most treasured characteristics. But it is not merely love, but loyal love; not merely kindness, but dependable kindness; not merely affection, but affection that has committed itself. It is steadfast, strong, and good.  By all accounts, the last few weeks have been some of the most fun I’ve had in a long time— wonderful birthday, crazy Thanksgiving with the family, a youth mountain retreat with some of my favorite teenagers, unbelievable Sufjan concert, Georgia Football, supper club, community group, Halloween, fall leaves, hot beverages, pumpkin spice everything… but understanding this word is maybe the best.  God’s act of hesed leads us in a chain of hesed for others: We love because He first loved us. If I can remember one thing from this season of my life, I want it to be that. 
    High Res

    Hesed. 

    I didn’t know what this word meant until this weekend. Not in some metaphorical way… like “I didn’t know what Love was until I met you” sort of thing. I literally had never heard of it. 

    Which is strange (even though it’s Hebrew) considering I have experienced it so many countless times. I am often blown away by new words… words that until the moment of hearing, I only knew of their meaning, not the name. Words like feuille-morte, crepuscular rays, petrichor. (Look those up if you don’t know them!) Hesed is one of the most beautiful examples of that.

    I’ve studied the book of Ruth before, but only in the context of Relationships and Boys and Waiting For a Boaz Kind of Man. Never in the context of Hesed. Sunday morning at Adult Sunday School, studying Ruth, I learned the word I’ve spent my life discovering. 

    Hesed is a quality that moves someone to act for the benefit of someone else without considering “what’s in it for me?”

    The word hesed is usually translated “kindness” or “lovingkindness.” Hesed is difficult to translate because it stands for a cluster of ideas—love, mercy, grace, kindness. It wraps up in itself all the positive attributes of God.  Hesed is one of the Lord’s most treasured characteristics.

    But it is not merely love, but loyal love; not merely kindness, but dependable kindness; not merely affection, but affection that has committed itself. It is steadfast, strong, and good. 


    By all accounts, the last few weeks have been some of the most fun I’ve had in a long time— wonderful birthday, crazy Thanksgiving with the family, a youth mountain retreat with some of my favorite teenagers, unbelievable Sufjan concert, Georgia Football, supper club, community group, Halloween, fall leaves, hot beverages, pumpkin spice everything… but understanding this word is maybe the best. 

    God’s act of hesed leads us in a chain of hesed for others: We love because He first loved us. If I can remember one thing from this season of my life, I want it to be that. 

    November 27, 2012
  2. Interesting juxtaposition whilst cleaning off the dashboard stickies on my computer… “to live well you must know who you are and what you stand for, where you want to go and why you want to get there.” “Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him! Whether you turn to the right or the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”- Isaiah 30:18, 21”

    Interesting juxtaposition whilst cleaning off the dashboard stickies on my computer…

    “to live well you must know who you are and what you stand for,
    where you want to go and why you want to get there.”

    “Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him! Whether you turn to the right or the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”
    - Isaiah 30:18, 21”

    June 20, 2012
  3. “Twenty-somethings are very prone to what’s called present bias. So are all humans, which is what procrastination is about, and oil consumption and overspending … I think thinking about ‘later’ is very scary for 20-somethings, because they don’t have a lot of experience doing that. So, a lot of what I do with clients is not give them advice as much as ask very pointed questions: “What is it that you want?” “Where would you like to be in five or 10 years?” “Do you want to get married?” “Do you want to have kids?” “What do you want your job to be?” … These are questions that no one asks 20-somethings because they know it scares them. But deep down, 20-somethings want people to ask them these questions because they know they need to figure it out.” —Dr. Meg Jay, The Defining Decade If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you know that talking about Adulthood and Growing Up are some of my favorite subjects.  When a friend recommended this book to me, The Defining Decade, I got a little anxious: am I so transparent? Do I need ANOTHER book to tell me how to think about my life? What could this book offer that I haven’t heard a thousand other places?  But, ya know. It’s actually pretty good book. And not just ‘cause I like this kind of thing. If you’re in your twenties (ESPECIALLY if you just graduated) you need to read this book. 1. It’ll make you feel a lot better to know you’re not alone with the idea that growing up can be scary and 2. she doesn’t try to tell you what to do; she only gives advice on things to think about and the science behind why the 20s are so important.  We know that 80 percent of life’s most defining moments happen by age 35. We know that 70 percent of lifetime wage growth happens in the first 10 years of a career. We know that more than half of Americans are married or living with or dating their future partner by 30. Our personalities change more in our 20s than any other time. Our fertility peaks. Our brain caps off its last growth spurts … The things that we do and the things that we don’t do are going to have an enormous effect across years and even generations. To be fair… I didn’t love everything in the book. Some sections were more applicable than others and I didn’t always agree with her advice, but on the whole it’s something I would recommend whole-heartedly.  Twenty-somethings are worried. They’re anxious. They’re worried about whether life is going to work out for them. Whether it’s going to work out as well as they thought it would … But the thing to do about that is to realize that my 20s are really the time to make my own certainty, and to make sure that yes, my life is going to work out because I’m starting to put the pieces together in an intentional way.
    High Res

    “Twenty-somethings are very prone to what’s called present bias. So are all humans, which is what procrastination is about, and oil consumption and overspending … I think thinking about ‘later’ is very scary for 20-somethings, because they don’t have a lot of experience doing that. So, a lot of what I do with clients is not give them advice as much as ask very pointed questions: “What is it that you want?” “Where would you like to be in five or 10 years?” “Do you want to get married?” “Do you want to have kids?” “What do you want your job to be?” … These are questions that no one asks 20-somethings because they know it scares them. But deep down, 20-somethings want people to ask them these questions because they know they need to figure it out.” —Dr. Meg Jay, The Defining Decade

    If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you know that talking about Adulthood and Growing Up are some of my favorite subjects.  When a friend recommended this book to me, The Defining Decade, I got a little anxious: am I so transparent? Do I need ANOTHER book to tell me how to think about my life? What could this book offer that I haven’t heard a thousand other places? 

    But, ya know. It’s actually pretty good book. And not just ‘cause I like this kind of thing.

    If you’re in your twenties (ESPECIALLY if you just graduated) you need to read this book. 1. It’ll make you feel a lot better to know you’re not alone with the idea that growing up can be scary and 2. she doesn’t try to tell you what to do; she only gives advice on things to think about and the science behind why the 20s are so important. 

    We know that 80 percent of life’s most defining moments happen by age 35. We know that 70 percent of lifetime wage growth happens in the first 10 years of a career. We know that more than half of Americans are married or living with or dating their future partner by 30. Our personalities change more in our 20s than any other time. Our fertility peaks. Our brain caps off its last growth spurts … The things that we do and the things that we don’t do are going to have an enormous effect across years and even generations.

    To be fair… I didn’t love everything in the book. Some sections were more applicable than others and I didn’t always agree with her advice, but on the whole it’s something I would recommend whole-heartedly. 

    Twenty-somethings are worried. They’re anxious. They’re worried about whether life is going to work out for them. Whether it’s going to work out as well as they thought it would … But the thing to do about that is to realize that my 20s are really the time to make my own certainty, and to make sure that yes, my life is going to work out because I’m starting to put the pieces together in an intentional way.


    May 30, 2012

  4. I have always, essentially, been waiting. Waiting to become something else, waiting to be that person I always thought I was on the verge of becoming, waiting for that life I thought I would have. In my head, I was always one step away. In high school, I was biding my time until I could become the college version of myself, the one my mind could see so clearly. In college, the post-college “adult” person was always looming in front of me, smarter, stronger, more organized. Then the married person, then the person I’d become when we have kids. For twenty years, literally, I have waited to become the thin version of myself, because that’s when life will really begin.

    And through all that waiting, here I am. My life is passing, day by day, and I am waiting for it to start. I am waiting for that time, that person, that event when my life will finally begin.

    I love movies about “The Big Moment” – the game or the performance or the wedding day or the record deal, the stories that split time with that key event, and everything is reframed, before it and after it, because it has changed everything. I have always wanted this movie-worthy event, something that will change everything and grab me out of this waiting game into the whirlwind in front of me. I cry and cry at these movies, because I am still waiting for my own big moment. I had visions of life as an adventure, a thing to be celebrated and experienced, but all I was doing was going to work and coming home, and that wasn’t what it looked like in the movies.

    John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” For me, life is what was happening while I was busy waiting for my big moment. I was ready for it and believed that the rest of my life would fade into the background, and that my big moment would carry me through life like a lifeboat.

    The Big Moment, unfortunately, is an urban myth. Some people have them, in a sense, when they win the Heisman or become the next American Idol. But even that football player or that singer is living a life made up of more than that one moment. Life is a collection of a million, billion moments, tiny little moments and choices, like a handful of luminous, glowing pearl. It takes so much time, and so much work, and those beads and moments are so small, and so much less fabulous and dramatic than the movies.

    But this is what I’m finding, in glimpses and flashes: this is it. This is it, in the best possible way. That thing I’m waiting for, that adventure, that movie-score-worthy experience unfolding gracefully. This is it. Normal, daily life ticking by on our streets and sidewalks, in our houses and apartments, in our beds and at our dinner tables, in our dreams and prayers and fights and secrets – this pedestrian life is the most precious thing any of use will ever experience.

    I have loved this quote so much since I first read it… as an almost-college graduate… overwhelmed by the multitude of unknowns that formed the broken path in front of me. 

    It’s been 3 years (oh!) since then and this never stops being important to remember. Thanks for the reminder, Mel. (via ktmel)

    Original source: Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines

    May 21, 2012

  5. I Don’t Wanna Wait - Paula Cole

    I was listening to STAR 94’s 90s Weekend on the radio as I drove to Atlanta this weekend for a wedding.  There may not be anything I love more than a road trip with 90s tunes… especially a road trip that leads to hanging out and celebrating with most of my favorite people in the whole world. 

    When this song came on, my initial reaction was to change the station because it’s weepy and melodramatic and I was in a partyin’, car-dancing mood.  But by the time Paula got to the second round of “do do do dooo” I was hooked. I love this song, there’s no denying. I really don’t want to wait for my life to be over… 

    I wasn’t allowed to watch Dawson’s Creek growing up, which at the time, was pretty much the most unfair thing EVAR. But man, I wanted to. My older sister and her Cool Friends were allowed to watch it, and would do so at our house (I am quite sure) just to torture me. 

    In our house, the living room and tv room had a shared wall with a fireplace that had openings on both sides. My sister and her Cool Friends would sit in the living room and watch this show and talk about boys and high school and driving and these strange new things called cell phones. This fireplace served as a window into the yet-unreached territory of teenage years… filled with reading Seventeen magazine and laughing about how great life was sans-braces. 

    I would just sit in the other room and watch Dr. Quinn with my parents and try to imagine what Dawson’s Creek was about… my only real understanding of the show came from the CD cover of the soundtrack. I wanted so desperately to sit casually on a dock on a body of water I can only image was Dawson’s actual creek, barefoot and best friends with Katie Holmes and That Guy From That Football Movie.  I wanted to wear white pants and have a soundtrack follow me around that made me feel like I was at Lilith Fair. Through that fireplace was where life began. High school. Paula Cole songs becoming reality. Lounging around casually on docks. 

    I could totally watch Dawson’s Creek now if I wanted to (thanks, adulthood.) But as that song was resonating through my car and out the open windows… I realized how thankful I am for my own growing-up story… a story of hanging out and watching movies in someone’s basement. A story of eating lunch in Mr. B’s marketing class. Of working the concession stand at the baseball fields. Of hours playing in the basketball gym. Of icees at the Ready Market and bike rides down dirt roads. Of going bowling instead of prom and of learning to drive a Suburban in a parking lot. Of moving to Georgia. Of attempting to study in a patch of grass outside the dorms. Of countless smoothie breaks at the dining hall. And, on occasion, actually lounging casually on a dock. My life has been better than what I imagine Dawson’s Creek could offer.  

    I am thankful for weekends like this one… celebrating a wedding alongside those people that have made growing-up the most fun and exciting and (let’s be honest) scary thing I’ve ever experienced. When I used to look through that fireplace, I couldn’t imagine what my life was going to look like as I got older. And like my girl Paula, I often wanted desperately to know how everything was going to turn out. I still do, on many days, wish to know what’s going to happen to me: What will I do? Where will I go? Whom will I love? What does the Lord have in store for me? 

    But for now… I’m OK just listening to the soundtrack and enjoying the party while it lasts. 

    April 30, 2012
  6. 6 Fool-Proof Ways to Have A Good Thursday wake up early  play Webbie’s “I.N.D.E.P.E.D.E.N.T” whilst you clean your apartment make waffles  eat waffles and listen to Webbie’s “I.N.D.E.P.E.D.E.N.T” again  take all of the contents out of your wallet and MAKE IT RAIN in your clean living room listen to Lil Wayne’s “Make It Rain” as you wash the dishes It was mostly receipts and it was still fun. 
    High Res

    6 Fool-Proof Ways to Have A Good Thursday

    1. wake up early 
    2. play Webbie’s “I.N.D.E.P.E.D.E.N.T” whilst you clean your apartment
    3. make waffles 
    4. eat waffles and listen to Webbie’s “I.N.D.E.P.E.D.E.N.T” again 
    5. take all of the contents out of your wallet and MAKE IT RAIN in your clean living room
    6. listen to Lil Wayne’s “Make It Rain” as you wash the dishes

    It was mostly receipts and it was still fun. 

    April 26, 2012
  7. Mid-twenties are a strange time of life. You’re either the youngest or the oldest person in most situations. At work: Youngest. Volunteering at youth group: Oldest. Grocery shopping on a Thursday night: Youngest. Trying to stay awake in a crowded pub post-midnight: Oldest. It’s hard out there for a quarter-century gangster. The one refuge from this crazy, upsidedown-pineapple-cake-existence are your friends. And hopefully you’ve got a group of friends that are Your People. Your Family. I am fortunate enough that in my post-collegiate years, I have an extraordinary group of friends I call The Athens Family. We navigated the tumultuous seas of Early Adulthood with ease… throwing dinner parties and commiserating together over long hours in the office/grad school/unemployment. We worked and played hard. We were adventurous. We were hilarious. I didn’t sleep much and believed (for the most part, minus those weak moments of crying alone/lying on the floor) that life after college could be awesome if you’re surrounded by awesome people. And it felt true. Last August, one of my best friends from college and a staple of The Athens Family moved away to Nashville to pursue her calling as a high school counselor. Shortly after, one of the AthFam couples found out they were pregnant. And another couple got engaged. A handful moved to Atlanta for Big City Jobs. Then another couple got engaged. And slowly but surely, things changed. We didn’t hang out as much. We didn’t party as much, drink as much, make dinner together as much. Though we still did those things, they were few and far between. Our motto for The Athens Family had once been “See You Tomorrow!” since we all saw each other quite literally every day. Soon it turned into “Are You Going to Be Here This Weekend?” Those last few months of 2011 were hard for me. I turned 25. Most of my friends from college were together in Atlanta. My friends in Athens were moving into different stages of life—engagement, marriage, babies. I felt a little bit stalled out here. I poured myself into my other areas of life: work, youth group, watching television. I debated whether I should stay in Athens at all. Then my dear friend (and future roomie!) snapped me out of it. 2012 would be The Year of Being Social. We would make new friends— not to replace our old friends, but build. We would say YES to hanging out more. We would say YES to going to parties where we didn’t know a lot of people. We would say YES to hosting Supper Clubs and going to the movies on a weeknight. We would say YES to living up our twenties with the people we love and the people we might grow to love. The Year of Being Social, HUZZAH! But making new friends is hard. Really hard. I’ve had the same tight-knit group of friends for so long I’d forgotten what it looks like. Last week, Future Roomie and I watched endless episodes of Happy Endings (one of the funniest shows on television I tell you) and at the end of one scene, the characters so hilariously and perfectly summed up my feelings about The Year of Being Social: DAVE: None of us has made a new friend in, like, 11 years. BRAD: I wouldn’t even know how to do that. What do you do, just, like, walk up to random people and go, ‘Hey, blah, blah, blah. Sports?’ PENNY: The only new person I wanna meet is my husband. All this to say… I shared this Frosted Orange from The Varsity with one of my new friends of 2012 and it felt awesome. It felt like Adulthood and Summer and Being Spontaneous and Being Social and Sunshine and Youth all at the same time. 
    High Res

    Mid-twenties are a strange time of life.

    You’re either the youngest or the oldest person in most situations. At work: Youngest. Volunteering at youth group: Oldest. Grocery shopping on a Thursday night: Youngest. Trying to stay awake in a crowded pub post-midnight: Oldest. It’s hard out there for a quarter-century gangster.

    The one refuge from this crazy, upsidedown-pineapple-cake-existence are your friends. And hopefully you’ve got a group of friends that are Your People. Your Family.

    I am fortunate enough that in my post-collegiate years, I have an extraordinary group of friends I call The Athens Family. We navigated the tumultuous seas of Early Adulthood with ease… throwing dinner parties and commiserating together over long hours in the office/grad school/unemployment. We worked and played hard. We were adventurous. We were hilarious. I didn’t sleep much and believed (for the most part, minus those weak moments of crying alone/lying on the floor) that life after college could be awesome if you’re surrounded by awesome people. And it felt true.

    Last August, one of my best friends from college and a staple of The Athens Family moved away to Nashville to pursue her calling as a high school counselor. Shortly after, one of the AthFam couples found out they were pregnant. And another couple got engaged. A handful moved to Atlanta for Big City Jobs. Then another couple got engaged. And slowly but surely, things changed.

    We didn’t hang out as much. We didn’t party as much, drink as much, make dinner together as much. Though we still did those things, they were few and far between. Our motto for The Athens Family had once been “See You Tomorrow!” since we all saw each other quite literally every day. Soon it turned into “Are You Going to Be Here This Weekend?”

    Those last few months of 2011 were hard for me. I turned 25. Most of my friends from college were together in Atlanta. My friends in Athens were moving into different stages of life—engagement, marriage, babies. I felt a little bit stalled out here. I poured myself into my other areas of life: work, youth group, watching television. I debated whether I should stay in Athens at all.

    Then my dear friend (and future roomie!) snapped me out of it. 2012 would be The Year of Being Social. We would make new friends— not to replace our old friends, but build. We would say YES to hanging out more. We would say YES to going to parties where we didn’t know a lot of people. We would say YES to hosting Supper Clubs and going to the movies on a weeknight. We would say YES to living up our twenties with the people we love and the people we might grow to love. The Year of Being Social, HUZZAH!

    But making new friends is hard. Really hard.

    I’ve had the same tight-knit group of friends for so long I’d forgotten what it looks like. Last week, Future Roomie and I watched endless episodes of Happy Endings (one of the funniest shows on television I tell you) and at the end of one scene, the characters so hilariously and perfectly summed up my feelings about The Year of Being Social:

    DAVE: None of us has made a new friend in, like, 11 years.
    BRAD: I wouldn’t even know how to do that. What do you do, just, like, walk up to random people and go, ‘Hey, blah, blah, blah. Sports?’
    PENNY: The only new person I wanna meet is my husband.

    All this to say… I shared this Frosted Orange from The Varsity with one of my new friends of 2012 and it felt awesome. It felt like Adulthood and Summer and Being Spontaneous and Being Social and Sunshine and Youth all at the same time. 

    April 24, 2012

  8. My Little Life - Korby Lenker


    Sitting here in my office, watching the rain roll down the window whilst the young, carefree undergrads scuttle rainboot-clad across campus in the background… this song speaks so deeply to me. 

    Plus he’s playing a uke. 

    Plus it makes me realize that sometimes being an adult is boring but most of the time it is also good.  Sure, you’re expected to vacuum more and buy vegetables… but you also get to eat Yoforia for dinner and stay up super late watching re-runs of Happy Endings. 

    Aint got a steady job
    Aint got a smokin girlfriend
    Aint got a fancy phone
    Get my music from the FM
    Aint got a private jet
    Aint got a red corvette
    Aint got a summer home
    Just me in my apartment all alone
    But that’s just fine

    My Little Life
    My Little Life
    My Little Life 
    is mine mine mine

    Don’t mind the cherry coke
    Don’t mind the country music
    Don’t mind the being broke
    Money’s just so I can use it
    I like the sleeping in
    I like the going to the movies
    I got a few good friends
    We like hanging out and doing nothing much at all

    My Little Life is mine mine mine

    Somedays I go to the gym
    Somedays I go to the bar
    Most days I wake up all alone
    But that’s just fine
    That’s just fine

    My Little Life is mine mine mine

    April 18, 2012
  9. Lately I have felt so loved by my community here in Athens. Sometimes it’s hard to be a grown-up in a city so far away from family. Holidays amplify this feeling. Funerals amplify this feeling. Confusion and anxiety about the future amplify this feeling. But I’ve been blessed with great friends and a church that cares about its people. I live in a city where there’s never a shortage of good food to be eaten or people to catch-up with or sunny days to enjoy. Sometimes I feel guilty for not simply enjoying every second… for trying to micromanage my days and categorize my every thought. For trying to do too much and actually succeeding too little. At times for being too emotional. Other times for being a robot. At Easter time, I’m reminded that family will always be family, no matter how far they are. But the concept of family is changing for me, also.  Family is not just blood, but it’s those people that you experience life with, cry with, get silly with, worship beside, and create stories with. I am thankful for you, Family, in all the various forms you manifest yourself.
    High Res

    Lately I have felt so loved by my community here in Athens.

    Sometimes it’s hard to be a grown-up in a city so far away from family. Holidays amplify this feeling. Funerals amplify this feeling. Confusion and anxiety about the future amplify this feeling.

    But I’ve been blessed with great friends and a church that cares about its people. I live in a city where there’s never a shortage of good food to be eaten or people to catch-up with or sunny days to enjoy.

    Sometimes I feel guilty for not simply enjoying every second… for trying to micromanage my days and categorize my every thought. For trying to do too much and actually succeeding too little. At times for being too emotional. Other times for being a robot.

    At Easter time, I’m reminded that family will always be family, no matter how far they are. But the concept of family is changing for me, also.  Family is not just blood, but it’s those people that you experience life with, cry with, get silly with, worship beside, and create stories with.

    I am thankful for you, Family, in all the various forms you manifest yourself.

    April 9, 2012
  10. Doesn’t it look like we were so happy at the beach? (Either that or in a Newport News catalog?)  It’s true. But now. Back to reality. Now, the Post-Vacation Depression sets in.  More on the trip later, but currently I have to go back to being sad and wallowing. 
    High Res

    Doesn’t it look like we were so happy at the beach? (Either that or in a Newport News catalog?) 

    It’s true. But now. Back to reality. Now, the Post-Vacation Depression sets in. 

    More on the trip later, but currently I have to go back to being sad and wallowing. 

    March 19, 2012
  11. Post-game drive through the pretty little city. Nights like this I am reminded how much I love this town and this life I have been given to live.
    High Res

    Post-game drive through the pretty little city. Nights like this I am reminded how much I love this town and this life I have been given to live.

    March 8, 2012
  12. I’M AN ADULT. 
    High Res

    I’M AN ADULT. 

    February 23, 2012
  13. I used to have a romantic notion about the laundromat— I think I listened to that song “Coin Laundry” one too many times. Can I be the girl that you met at the coin laundry… I’m young, I’m living in a fun city, of course I’m going to meet some handsome guy at the laundromat on a Thursday night! I mean, come on! We’ve all seen the movies. We’ll strike up a conversation about my Harry Potter t-shirt or how we use the same hypo-allergenic detergent! Or he’ll ask me what I’m listening to on my iPod like I’m female-Joseph Gordon Levitt and he, my dashing male-Zooey Deschanel in “500 Days of Laundry.”  To die by your side, what a heavenly way to dieeee…  And that gets me thinking. No. Laundromats are not romantic. They are the worst. THE WORST. There you are sitting on a pea green pleather sofa, alone, tethered to this rumbling machine until it’s done its duty for fear of a stranger stealing your clothes or—worse— seeing your underwear when they go to remove your forgotten garments. This is when the imagination takes over. Irrational thoughts take hold. Laundry is not safe. I’ve seen one too many Lifetime movies to know that the creepy music will kick on at any moment and…  I will surely die here. By no one’s side, without The Smiths playing along in the background. I could be murdered, never hearing the approaching footsteps of the maniac over the persistent WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP of my smelly tennis shoes banging against the metal box. I shall die here in the midst of Downey dryer sheets, the only witness to my demise the change machine that doesn’t take 5’s. Where is my dashing co-Thursday night launderer? Is there no one else in this town who realized at 9pm that if they didn’t do laundry RIGHT THIS MINUTE they would have quite literally nothing to wear and no time to do laundry until next SATURDAY (unless of course I woke up at 4am and we all know that’s not happening.)  It’s amazing I ever complained about washing clothes from the comfort of my own home—rolling my eyes as if doing laundry 50 feet from my bedroom was so beneath me.  So, if I die here… don’t judge me for not separating lights and darks and please don’t write on my Facebook wall. It’s creepy.  Also, I have cookies in the oven, so I hope the building is still standing. 
    High Res

    I used to have a romantic notion about the laundromat— I think I listened to that song “Coin Laundry” one too many times. Can I be the girl that you met at the coin laundry…

    I’m young, I’m living in a fun city, of course I’m going to meet some handsome guy at the laundromat on a Thursday night! I mean, come on! We’ve all seen the movies. We’ll strike up a conversation about my Harry Potter t-shirt or how we use the same hypo-allergenic detergent! Or he’ll ask me what I’m listening to on my iPod like I’m female-Joseph Gordon Levitt and he, my dashing male-Zooey Deschanel in “500 Days of Laundry.”  To die by your side, what a heavenly way to dieeee… 

    And that gets me thinking. No. Laundromats are not romantic. They are the worst. THE WORST. There you are sitting on a pea green pleather sofa, alone, tethered to this rumbling machine until it’s done its duty for fear of a stranger stealing your clothes or—worse— seeing your underwear when they go to remove your forgotten garments. This is when the imagination takes over. Irrational thoughts take hold. Laundry is not safe. I’ve seen one too many Lifetime movies to know that the creepy music will kick on at any moment and… 

    I will surely die here. By no one’s side, without The Smiths playing along in the background. I could be murdered, never hearing the approaching footsteps of the maniac over the persistent WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP of my smelly tennis shoes banging against the metal box. I shall die here in the midst of Downey dryer sheets, the only witness to my demise the change machine that doesn’t take 5’s. Where is my dashing co-Thursday night launderer? Is there no one else in this town who realized at 9pm that if they didn’t do laundry RIGHT THIS MINUTE they would have quite literally nothing to wear and no time to do laundry until next SATURDAY (unless of course I woke up at 4am and we all know that’s not happening.) 

    It’s amazing I ever complained about washing clothes from the comfort of my own home—rolling my eyes as if doing laundry 50 feet from my bedroom was so beneath me. 

    So, if I die here… don’t judge me for not separating lights and darks and please don’t write on my Facebook wall. It’s creepy. 

    Also, I have cookies in the oven, so I hope the building is still standing. 

    February 9, 2012
  14. I woke up this morning to my roof leaking.  Sure, there are worst ways to wake up, but this was particularly unsettling considering that I live in the middle floor of an apartment building.  Yes, it was raining outside… but was it raining inside? Or at least inside the apartment of the man who lives above me? In my half-sleep state I couldn’t figure out what was happening or if it was real and why, actually, it seemed to be raining in my bedroom.  Mondays.  I moved from my room to the couch to snag a few more precious minutes of sleep. (I made the unfortunate choice of starting Downton Abbey yesterday and I couldn’t turn it off last night. So good.)  After 3 minutes or so of snoozing on the couch, I startled awake.  It’s raining in my house. What am I doing still asleep?  It seemed impossible—rain, inside. On the middle floor. But there it was dripping and there I stood standing, laughing about the impossibility of it and the fact that I now needed to do something about it. ADULTHOOD, YO. It seems all too easy to just fall back asleep… but when it’s raining in your bedroom… you’ve got to react.  But, alas, the joys of renting. At least I don’t have to pay for it. 
    High Res

    I woke up this morning to my roof leaking. 

    Sure, there are worst ways to wake up, but this was particularly unsettling considering that I live in the middle floor of an apartment building. 

    Yes, it was raining outside… but was it raining inside? Or at least inside the apartment of the man who lives above me? In my half-sleep state I couldn’t figure out what was happening or if it was real and why, actually, it seemed to be raining in my bedroom. 

    Mondays. 

    I moved from my room to the couch to snag a few more precious minutes of sleep. (I made the unfortunate choice of starting Downton Abbey yesterday and I couldn’t turn it off last night. So good.) 

    After 3 minutes or so of snoozing on the couch, I startled awake. 

    It’s raining in my house. What am I doing still asleep? 

    It seemed impossible—rain, inside. On the middle floor. But there it was dripping and there I stood standing, laughing about the impossibility of it and the fact that I now needed to do something about it. ADULTHOOD, YO. It seems all too easy to just fall back asleep… but when it’s raining in your bedroom… you’ve got to react. 

    But, alas, the joys of renting. At least I don’t have to pay for it. 

    January 23, 2012
  15. November. When did it become November?  What is this thing that is happening to me? Aging?  When did I become the person who talks about time passing quickly and KIDS THESE DAYS when referring to the fact that we have no running backs for this weekend’s football game? I mean, COME ON. WHAT IS THAT.  Go Dawgs? 
    High Res

    November. When did it become November? 

    What is this thing that is happening to me? Aging? 

    When did I become the person who talks about time passing quickly and KIDS THESE DAYS when referring to the fact that we have no running backs for this weekend’s football game?

    I mean, COME ON. WHAT IS THAT. 

    Go Dawgs? 

    November 3, 2011