pulling the same face.

three things that seem important to me when looking at this photograph:

1. i'm quite sure it was done using a self-timer
2. my adrienne vittadini outfit was worn every day of that visit
3. i am in fact making the same face as my father (which is noteworthy, because to this day we pull the same faces and i used to think it was a relatively recent development, but obviously not).

sometimes i think if there is a set amount of luck for each person in this life, i used all mine up in choosing my parents.

i have parents who actually parented. who sat us down as a family after dinner to read a book aloud, together. who held family meetings--miserable, awful things they seemed at the time, but important too.

my dad's birthday was this past weekend. and not a day goes by where i don't find myself catching my breath--awed by the daily sacrifices and hard work he has put in so that my brother and i might have every and any opportunity we choose.

my father literally gave us the gift of choice.

so if i don't say it enough (and i don't) thank you, dad.

and a very happy birthday to you.


today is my cousin kevin's birthday.

how to describe kevin?

kevin feels like my three-year-old-soul-mate.

does that make sense? not really to me either, but that's the only way i can think to describe it.

he, more than anyone else, calls me out. he reminds me to laugh, to smile, balks at my particular brand of girl-crazy and laughingly guides me back to sanity.

but more than anything else he reminds me that life is fun. it's meant to be fun. and thank god for that.

happy birthday, kevin. and thank you.

a wish for november.

last night my friend angela came over for some very, very belated birthday sweet treats.

she lit cupcakes for me and demanded we take a picture. i was laughing so hard that one of the candles blew out just from that.

but i made a wish, nonetheless.

i won't tell you what it is. not exactly. because then it wouldn't come true.

but i will tell you, that right now,

i sure am wishing that november is a heck of a lot better than october.

that i get back in to the routine of waking up early.

that i find myself at the pool more often than not.

that i always have a good book to read

ps: want to know what my goal for the month of november is? learn to flirt. and then practice, practice, practice. right now i'm at the point where me flirting is me being a relatively friendly human being (as opposed to emitting an icy blast, which is what i tend to do with cute men), so i'm just a hop, skip, and a jump away.........

who i am at 24.

this morning i woke up to a new year. 

i buttoned up my brand new, crisp-as-they-come, white blouse, took a good long look in the mirror and decided that yes, 24 felt different in the best possible way. i was different. better. immediately, i knew.

then i gave one squirt of smashbox foundation into my waiting hand and ended up with five gloriously large makeup blobs all over my brand new shirt--my never-been-worn shirt. and i was brought back to reality. this would not be the year of the immaculately clean white blouse. a new year, a new day does not a different person make. i am still the girl who gets make-up on her shirt (or food--more often food), stumbles over her words, and does not realize that the restaurant has not been serving broccoli now for a full 34 days (as my boss so kindly pointed out). 

and you know what? thank God above for my persistent little foibles. they're glorious. and i love them.

my girlfriend from high school and i were speaking on the phone today. about boys. (what all young, twenty-something women most love to discuss). and she mentioned a boy she had dated several years ago that she would be meeting up with soon. she expressed trepidation about the time elapsed and said, i'm not same person i was at fifteen. to which i replied, thank God,  whitney. thank God we're not the same people. 

okay, so i am different today. and i'll be different tomorrow. each day brings a new and exciting adventure. 

i may not be so young as i was last year. but i have a year's worth of knowledge along with a new number. and for the first time in my life i feel like i am on the precipice of... everything

so 24. who am i. well, here goes.

if i could have a constant supply of anything for the rest of my life it would be flowers and paper toweling. 

at the grocery store, i most love coming away with the tall, slender bottles of pellegrino. it makes me feel...french.

i hiccup any time i've had too much food or eaten too quickly. so... often. very, very often. 

there is a direct correlation between the quality of my mood and the cleanliness of my home.

laughter. above all, i need laughter. small hiccups of laughs and roaring guffaws. when i think of the man i'll marry there is so much i dream of. but the only thing i know--i mean really know--is that he'll laugh at my jokes and my constant mistakes. and himself. oh for a man who can laugh at himself! he'll make me laugh and for this i'll love him as though our lives depend on it. 

i'd like to tell you that ned isn't following me into this new year. but he is. two weeks ago i would have said, no, no way. but with the onset of bed bugs and thus a disrupted sleep cycle, he has taken taken this opportunity to creep back in. when i am healthy it's as though i've found a little pocket of air in which to breathe--and i ride it for as long as i can. it's a sweet spot where ned can't touch me. and i know that in the process of recovering it's important to fall out of the pocket so that i can figure out how to get back to it quickly. so i'm trying to give thanks for the fall out. but giving thanks isn't always so easy. nor is finding my way back in. 

back in april i gave myself a year to fail, to fall on my ass again and again. and i'm doing it and loving it. and i've still got a good six months. 

i promised myself that come 24 i would take pictures. all the time. every day. it would take work and practice, but i would make it a habit. and it would be a crushing blow to ned. but i'm not feeling very picture pretty today. so i make this promise. it will be a week late, but come this weekend i will post some photos. full length photos. photos that pretty or not will show you who i am in a way that my words cannot. 

i feel good about this age. this 24 number will be a good one. ned will end. and i will fall in love. (that's my divination for the future...i guess we'll see if my predictions are on point!). 

ps: i have a crush on a man who snaps his fingers. and when he does it's strong and clear and reminds me of my father and this inspires great confidence. 

photo via sabino.

happy birthday dad

Today is my father's birthday. It's a big one.

I don't know if he'd want me to say, which one.

Oh hell...he's turning 60

And I think that's pretty amazing.

Because the truth is...my dad is my dad. 

And I love him so much. And I love him even when the words don't come easy.

"His hair turned gray that winter. I thought it was snow.  He promised us that everything would be OK. I was a child, but I knew that everything would not be OK.  That did not make my father a liar.  It made him my father."

"Gerald smiled at me in the rearview mirror and asked if we wanted any music. I asked him if he had any kids. He said he had two daughters...'Are they both special?' He cracked up and said, 'Of course their pop is gonna say they're special.' 'But objectively.' 'What's that?' 'Like, factually. Truthfully.' 'The truth is I'm their pop.'

from extremely loud and incredibly close