Beers in Tiny Glasses

How to make your life WAY more exciting

Never come back from the grocery store with just what you intended to buy. How boring!

For example,

When you go to the store to buy salad, also return with

Ice cream sammies


And

Creme brûlée stout



There you have it.

The Art of Follow Through

It's truly a lost art: the art of follow through.

The art of actually doing what you say you're going to do.

Imagine a place where everyone does exactly what they say. No broken promises, no flakey flakes, and no lies. I can't really imagine it. Can you?

We live in a time and place where somehow you are much hipper if you say you are going to do something, and then perhaps those around you are unsure as to whether or not you are going to follow through. They are left to wonder, and that makes you mysterious, thus taking up space in their minds. When you are dependable, doing what you say you will do, people have no need to worry about you. There is certainty. Today certainty often equates to boredom.

But what if we envision a place where certainty was valorous? Knowing that what a person says and does would not a mystery, but a perfect match. Two things that undeniably went hand in hand.

A lost art.

The tiniest chair in the world

On which I will sit when I am tiny.

That's not pizza!

Portland. ❤

I love Portland.

Maybe it's the big city feel of a manageable city. Maybe it's the amazing food, coffee, and shopping options that tempt my inner consumer. Maybe it was the brief flash of sun. Maybe it's the good energy that radiates off of our old friends who now call Portland home.

Or maybe Portland just has it all.

We be climbin' (and running)

A nice long run/hike to a sunny summit

just a little further...it felt so hard after a tough track work out last night

Cuddle Top

Spencer's Butte Summit

Contemplative black and white shot

Somebody's ready

Presents under the tree (thanks to awesome family who still remembered us this year, even though we're not heading to NC for Christmas):


Warm hats and cuddle abound:


Spirits are being had with friends:

And caroling parties to boot (yikes, I look bad when I'm singing):

Snow.

Last night around 10:30 it started rain-sleet-snowing. When we woke up, it looked like this
















Then in turned to rain...

A sporting event

My first Ducks game!

A whole new meaning to "living in the moment"

If there is one thing that surprised me about Oregon, it's how quickly the weather changes here. Yes, it rains a lot. But, it also rains, then stops, then mists, then the sun shines brightly for about 20 mins, then it's cloudy, then foggy, then pouring rain again--all in the span of a few hours.

People say you have to take advantage of the sun when you get it, because it could *literally* come out for a few moments and then be gone. You could plan your day around a certain expected weather outcome and easily waste it waiting for something that might not ever come or go.

So, the new plan is to go outside as soon as the sun comes out. Don't wait because it could be gone. Metaphor for life, anyone?

What to do with your time off

Organize piles and piles of (not pictured) readings from school.

And



Walk up little mountains

What to do when it's cold and raining

Bundle up!

David Minor Theater

Imagine a place that is a movie theater. Here you can see non new releases for five bucks and drink beers the size of your head. You can also order food at said place. Foods like tator tots, veggie burgers and nachos. If you run out of beer all you have to do is send a text and someone comes into the theater with your beer while quietly whispering your name.
Such a place exists in Eugene, Oregon. It does.

Her Favorite Story

So appropriate that I would see this, as one of my favorite things to do is rub my sweet girl's head and tell the story of how we met.

March 2005, a bored post-college me decides to go by the Orange County Animal Rescue (aka- the pound) just to "look".
I walk past cages of smelly wonderful dogs, to find three little shepherd-chow pups, yipping and tumbling over one another: tan, black, and orange. The orange one cowers in the back corner as Tan and Black jump, lick, and chow down on the pound provided bulk dog biscuits. I scoot around to the back of the cage and put a bone down in front of the little orange pup. Black pounces and devours it. The rescue volunteer approaches me and asks if I'd like to take one of the puppies into a room to get to know it a little better. I say yes. Next thing I know, me and the little orange puppy are alone in a small room that faintly smells of animal pee.  She has the softest fur I have ever touched. The smallest black nose. Yearning eyes outlined with Cleopatra's eyeliner. I ask her, Are you my dog? Yes, she replies. I am your dog.

And she is.

How I will feel

Tragedy!

For some time I had been lusting after a polka dot dress. This polka dot dress, the answer to all things, arrived and was too big. No more sizes,  no more. And back to the store it must go.

And the search continues.

Poor me. Whaaaaa!

How Are You?

I don't why every time someone asks me a mundane question such as "How are you?" or "Do you like it?", I feel compelled to give them an honest reply.

I don't think that most people want to know how you are really doing when they ask "How are you?", and they most certainly do not care to know that "Well, I'm good, I guess. Kinda tired and I've only eaten a granola bar thus far today, so I'm kinda hungry too. Also, looking forward to a run later today, etc etc etc etc". But for some reason, my brain or mouth or soul will not allow me to just say "I'm fine".

Why though? Why do people ask perfunctory questions that they do not care to hear real answers to?

And this lil' guy

It's a salt lamp! Something about positive ions and not going crazy. It's very sweet.

And this is December

So far,

Beautiful lil' Oregon tree, sans decorations since the movers lost our X-mas box.
Notice the light outside on our porch!

This lil' drink. With somewhat crappy latte art. But it sort of perfectly represents how I feel right now: a deflated,  quickly poured, skeptical rosette.

This lil' guy. He likes his cuddle too much!

These lil' shoes. Bridesmaid shoes for Carrie's wedding!

Sunny Sunny Sunday

I can see the sky. And suddenly, my brain begins to think in metaphors as I push through to the end of this term. Al-most- there.