A tumblr of ideals
My tumblr looks like it’s used in an unconventional way (as opposed to a traditional blog) but I don’t think it really is. If you look as all the things I post (whether it’s original or reblogged content) the truest form of me is represented. All my likes and ideals, in all their multifaceted glory.
Equity (not equality which, by the way, actually took years for my beliefs to truly make the shift)
Education (the best kind, and for everyone)
Atheistically appealing things (whether it’s fitted navy jackets, or time-lapse photos of the stars, or homes with white-washed floors)
Snuggly and/or heartbreakingly adorable animals (see also: fainting goats, cats (DUH), horses, x-kind of animal being friends with y-type of animal)
Me (because honestly it took 24 years to get to a place where I wasn’t down on myself every minute, “ugh, why didn’t you say that!” “ugh, you could have studied harder!” “ugh, actually tell them what you want instead of sitting here for three days wondering what they’ll say!” My anxiety doesn’t own me anymore. But I had to learn that growing and learning and failing and trying again is the point, instead of always seeking an end result of perfection that is, in fact, impossible.)
I don’t care about blog traffic or finding a title that will get me repinned to Pinterest (which is really why I like tumblr and don’t follow anyone on Blogger or Wordpress) because that’s not why I do this. That’s not ever why I’ve blogged (ten years running, what what!) and I don’t think I’ll ever be that person.
tumblr is the best, and I’m so lucky I found it so long ago. Ya’ll are the best ever. Thanks for being awesome, always.
What to put on your wedding registry, see also: this opportunity will never come around again so make it good, ya jerk
Ashley of umcanyounot suggested luggage and that is how I know she is Jesus. Seriously, the luggage has been a total win. I love it so much. I used to travel so much last year and it was so nice to have some professional looking pieces (the setI bought from Bass in college was shredding so…) We asked for a Samsonite set—the only thing I would double check is the size of the carryon because the one we have is juuuust barely small enough to stuff in an overhead. Jamming your suitcase in the overhead is so uncouth.
Our baby Dyson and our steam mop (it’s a Shark, too lazy to look up which one) are neck in neck for the most used practical gifts besides towels OH GOD ASK FOR NICE PLUSH TOWELS. Baby Dyson picks up everything from broken glass (thanks, Herman, you fat asshole, for knocking over every glass ever placed on a countertop) to beard trimmings from Ryan’s bathroom escapades (IF YOU THINK THAT SOUNDS GROSS YOU SHOULD NOT BE GETTING MARRIED FYI JUST SAYING). The Shark steam mop makes me whant to roll around on my dust free wood floors. It feels wonderful and makes me happy. I realize that I am posting borderline sexual attraction to cleaning supplies and for that I’m sorry.
I have no problem with our pots but I wouldn’t call them ohmygodlifechanging and therefore will not recommend any specific type BUT DEAR LORD BUY A CAST IRON SKILLET AND HUGE DUTCH OVEN. That’s all. Just those two will change your life.
I’m sure I love a lot of the things from our registry but everytime I use one of the aforementioned items I say “THANK YOU, _insert person who got us the thing here_.”
Go forth and wed!
I first got highlights when I turned 16, meant to hide the issue of my sunny blonde strand’s rapid transition to mousy brown. For the next five years my hair colors spanned the rainbow, ranging from $200 salon colors to stinking $6 box dye jobs in my dorm room sink. When I cut off most of my hair in fall of 2011, it was as penance to my poor, bone dry strands. I continued to cut it even shorter for the next year and never colored it. This is all to say that it’s finally grown (I estimate it’s at about 10 inches) and I actually love the color. Kind of auburn, kind of chocolate. Who knew?
Speaking of coworkers, one of mine is pregnant and instead of cards, everyone is picking a book and writing a note in it. Such an adorable idea. I picked a beautiful version of the Velveteen Rabbit, and I’m excited to give it to her. I say it all the time, but I really do with some of the most awesome people ever. We’re mostly in our 20-30s and are total go-getters and hilarious English majors. Pretty ideal.
Two of my good friends from college had babies last week and they are so, so, so precious. It makes me think about life and work and loving work, but loving my family, too. I guess you’ll never really know what the ‘right’ thing is to do, so I try to remove all preconceived notions about the timeline of what ‘should’ be and focus on what we want and where we find our happiness.
My dad likes to scan and send old photos
Usually they are pretty cute but sometimes they are just sad.
Today, it was the latter:
Can I just hang out with Ryan all day? Can someone pay me to do that? Can I pay me to do that?
There is a couple who is giving away a restaurant in Santa Barbara and I would totally apply but there are already some NYC hotshots who applied and I don’t know the first thing about a restaurant. Other than that it could be really fun. And hard, but mostly fun.
Ryan and I need to work together. Our strengths are totally aligned and we work so insanely well together. This is not a newlywed talking about how she would like to hang out with her husband and cuddle all day and watch Netflix (although if someone would like to pay us to do that, I am okay with that, too) but what I’m really talking about is working—really, hard work—that we can navigate together.
I’m mulling some things around (and have some options) but what say you?
Friday: took Mel to the emergency vet at 10:00 pm. You know the rest of the story.$$$$$$ (He is fine for now; we need to retest in two weeks.)
Saturday: picked Mel up from the vet, and according to Herman, brought home a totally asshole foreign cat who he had definitely not been raised with and was definitely not his brother, so it was essential to hiss, growl and smack Mel for the next 48 hours. Ryan and I followed them around the house the entire time to make sure there were no casualties.
Sunday: We saw Draft Day in the super fancy theatre, where you sit in a recliner that goes allllllllll the way back and press buttons to make your peasants bring food and booze. It was all very good.
Sunday, later: started mindlessly eating a DELICIOUS sweet and wonderful watermelon (which I have a known mild allergy to—actually most fruits and vegetables) until the itching in and around my face area was unbareable and my throat started closing. This, I came to understand, is anaphylaxis and even though I had temporary laryngitis voice that was squaky and hilarious, it is not as funny today when I am still itchy and my chest is bumpy and feel like like I died and came back.
.gif and shit
Last week/yesterday I was NOT excited for this business trip to Hawaii because duh, I’m stressed out of my mind on the reg—without having to support another business line’s event—but now that I’m at the airport (up at 4:00 am, by the way) I’m pretty excited to head on over, have a great event around my favorite content, make some sales, and visit a (very pregnant) friend from college.
Oh, and put my toes in that warm, perfect sand.