I love organic cake in the shape of male genitalia.

And the celebration of impending nuptials.

Erica, a very dear and beautiful classmate from Juilliard, is getting married next Friday to her long time love (and Peter Parker lookalike). 

I love weddings. I love everything about them. That's the hopeless romantic in me--I can't think of anything more beautiful than two people standing in front of their friends and family and having the courage to say, this is the person I want--the person I promise--to spend the rest of my life with. 

I'll be sure to post pictures following next week's celebration. 

Oh yes, February is the month of love indeed. 

In the interest of full disclosure...

The end of Ned has come. I can feel it. Any day now I'll wake to find my bed empty once more. 

I should be celebrating. Should be.

Instead I'm afraid. Any doctor will tell you that an eating disorder sticks around because there is something positive you're extracting from it. I rebelled against this idea for a long time. Nothing good, I would shout. Nothing good has come from him. 

But this is not true. 

Ned makes me feel safe. Think about it...he literally built a second skin for me--a layer of insulation. He is my form of protection from a world that seems overwhelming and unnavigable. He has been my constant companion these past three, almost four years.

And so while I pray for his departure, I also fear it. Letting go of him feels like leaping off a cliff. What will the world look like if I'm not looking through his eyes? 

In some ways my body is rebelling now. Trying to cling to a dying a relationship. Purging him up and out in convulsive spurts. 

I've been bingeing more of late. Like I used to. In the old days. But these worse days lead to better days and I can feel my system cleaning itself. 

But in the interest of full disclosure...sometimes I feel Ned so strongly. Moving inside of me. So strong is he that I can barely breathe. And I wonder if I allow that to happen--if I stop breathing--what will happen? Will my body learn to take air in in a new and different way? A better way? 

Perhaps my skin will break open and my heart will learn to breathe.

In the midst of this cold, harsh, bitter winter...

...I absolutely love my new mittens.

They make me feel like Katherine Hepburn in the midst of a 1940's winter landscape. 

Oooh la la...it's love indeed.

I love the kindness of strangers.

Jessica thought this quote might have some meaning for me. So she sent it my way care of Naomi over at Rockstar Diaries. 

All your life you are told the things you cannot do. 

All your life they will say you are not good enough or strong enough or talented enough; they will say you're the wrong height or the wrong weight or the wrong type to play this or achieve this.

 THEY WILL TELL YOU NO, a thousand times no, until all the no's become meaningless. 

All your life they will tell you  no, quite firmly and very quickly. 

AND YOU WILL TELL THEM YES.

I love that: until the no's become meaningless.

And then, the other day, I got a really unbelievable email from a young woman who spoke of the importance of faith. Faith in one's self. And of course faith in a higher power. And there I was reading it when I had (what Oprah would call) an ah-ha moment. Of course. Faith in a higher power I'm working on. But faith in one's self? How many times has someone said that to me? How many times have I seen that stitched into a decorative pillow? And each time I glossed over it going, yeah, yeah, yeah--duh. But here it was once more. And it hit me. My faith in myself has faltered. I put far too much stock in the opinion of others. And faith in one's self takes work (if it doesn't than you're a far better person than I--though I'd venture a guess that you work at it without even realizing that's what you're doing). 

The yes must begin in me. 

This is the year the nation said Yes, we can. It's about time I started saying Yes, I can. 

Was that too cheesy for your taste? Well...sometimes I like a little bit of cheese.

And February keeps rollin' on. (aka speaking of things I love...)

This is my friend Angela...

Today is her birthday, and so there is no better time to say that I love her. Wholeheartedly, I do. She came into my life as a temporary roommate and quickly nestled her way into the folds of my heart. Girls' Nights. American Idol parties. An open ear--always. And a tremendous talent.

Walt Whitman said, "I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends."

I don't know what I did to deserve Angela, but I sure am humbled to call her my friend.