Perhaps not to be is to be without your being
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Ode to my Running Shoes: or what love looks like
I am a runner. I am not the fastest lady on the track. To many, my stride is slow. You might even refer to me as a jogger. I am okay with either. As long as I get to lace up my shoes and put one foot in front of the other at some point during the day, I am a happy camper. Well happy may be a stretch, but much more content, that's for sure. It allows me to clear my head, to feel some semblance of sanity, even for a brief moment.
You might think that it was completing my first marathon that cementing this in me, my identity as runner. That would make sense, for sure. But it was just a regular run, five miles if I recall correctly. Around 20 minutes in, it dawned on me. I knew without a shadow of a doubt. I was a runner. I am a runner. It gives me strength to face the day. It gives me calm in the inevitable storm that is life. On the most miserable, manic days, for those fifty or sixty minutes, I can know peace. I can sense God, as I understand God. Running allows me to know serenity on a personal level. I will always be enormously grateful for my running shoes. Hell, sometimes I think they save my life. Certainly my sanity.
¶ 5:35 PM 0 Comments
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Dinner dating deliciousness
¶ 9:15 PM 0 Comments
I often whine, albeit internally, that there is just nothing to do in this town. I long for museums, countless coffee shops, chaotic traffic and creativity. I'm sure there is enough of that here in Florida; I'm often to self involved to see it. Sometimes though, the simplest evenings can be the sweetest.
Take tonight. Dinner at Cyprus. Five different types of cheeses hit my taste buds and slipped softly to my thighs, but oh the Yum. Succulent scallops in a thyme bearnaise. Banana pudding chocolate ice cream, heavenly. And my rosebud Bass loafers.
Unfortunately the picture is blurry, but this is how I dressed for date night. Usually I am in running tights and t-shirts for work, so I jump at the opportunity to dress up. At a very basic level, I LOVE clothes. The intensity of my love deserves the caps. If I could, I'd wear one of my vintage dresses every day. But since I'm teaching yoga or changing dirty diapers for most of the day, the chance to enjoy the gorgeous frocks in my closet (alright lets be honest, multiple closets) rarely arises. My Rachel Antonoff for Bass shoes, well it's true love. As was the delicious date with my dashing dude.
x, e
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Dedicated to my 12 year old self: The long and winding road
¶ 7:21 PM 0 Comments
So when I was around the age of 12 or 13, I was a huge fan of The Beatles. It was undoubtedly a massive step up from earlier days; Ace of Base was the first CD I remember owning. Although I like to think of this as a momentary lapse in musical judgement. I was the child who was thrilled to discover Phil Collins and Genesis. I recall mild embarrassment as my parents informed me that, no this was not a new band, yes he had been around for quite sometime, and of course they were most certainly away of his existence. Ah, sweet blissful youth. I say all this to let you know that I've always been a bit of an odd bird. A march to your own drummer kind of gal. Coloring a bit outside the lines.
And yet somehow.....
I've met a man. This man. Sitting in this photograph, smiling. With me. Which when I was 12 or 13, rockin' out to The White Album, I never thought would happen, not in a million years. However. This will not be a sappy blog, overwrought with cliches (I hope). I will not beat the dead horse, quote Shakespeare, speak only of my better half. I will speak of me, where I am, where I would like to go, and what inspires me to keep on fighting the good fight (already I've broken my promise to keep this a cliche free zone, darn the luck!). You inspire me, whomever you are. So thank you. e
