week three of this new year: january 15-21

this is the week i put on my suede pumps, colored my lips red and finally took in lincoln center's production of war horse. (it really is as stunning as they say--if you find yourself in new york, you must see it). this is the week i took in a lot of liquids--trading coffee and tea for warm noodle soup. (yes, that's right. this is the week i attempted to cut back on coffee consumption!). this is the week that after five weeks of not feeling well, i slowly started to lose my mind--began rubbing vic's vapo rub on my face (yes, you read that right), applying other salves to heal the tell-tale red just under my nose from where the tissue has marked the skin. this is the week i began dreaming of paris in the spring. may, perhaps? this is the week when new york got cold in a way that made me question if i'd actually survive this winter. truth be told? jury's still out.

a little tune to begin the week.

been a while since i posted anything i'm listening to, so i thought i'd share the song that has kick-started the year for me.

i love it. can't stop listening to it.

"don't you wait, and let time, put those bags under your eyes"




in other news: i was thinking this morning about the first time i told a lie. i actually remember it. i'm gonna write about it later, so should you wanna know...

at the bottom of a coffee cup.

it's been a doozy of a week. and it's gonna be a doozy of the next few.

but last night as i walked through an industrial section of brooklyn, dipping my vegan biscotti into an almond milk latte, i thought: when and how did i become this person? 


turns out, i really quite like this person. 


and that thought is enough to get me through.

one of those things i wish i myself had written:

Before I could flinch, he planted his warm lips against mine, wrapping his arms around my waist. I didn't know what to do with my hands. I thought about putting them in his hair, stopping inches away from his head. I thought about putting them around his neck, but I stopped myself mid-flight. So there I was, being kissed by a boy I was falling hopelessly in love with and making a complete fool of myself, because I looked like I was flagging someone down with my hands. 


Concealed
Sang Kromah




image via. 

the kind of woman i want to be:

i want to take my makeup off every night before bed. i want to floss my teeth just as often as is recommended. i want to wear high heels. or not. i want a little garden. whether it be mounted on a wall, contained in a window-box, or a full backyard plot, i want my own greens. want to mark time by their progress. want to pick them fresh for dinner. i want to bike to the farmer's market. i want to like green tea. or not. but drink it anyway. i want my food to be rich in the colors of the earth. i want to live near the water. or the mountains. or both. i want to pray and give thanks beneath trees that reach upward and out. i want balance. balance between investing in all the right things and paying attention and putting in the work and then letting it go and not giving two shits. i want to turn off the lights when i leave a room. and i want to find a partner who can honor that. i want pictures everywhere. frames everywhere. i want the words hung right up there on the wall. i want to wake early. to move my body because it's good for my heart. because it keeps me light and kind. i want breakfast in bed on saturday mornings. and fresh flowers and gifts for no reason at all. i want to be the kind of friend who honors commitments, takes the time to make the call, sends ridiculous emails just because, who speaks truly and freely, and plans birthday trips to paris. i want to wear colorful socks and knee-length skirts. bright lipstick and my hair in a high bun. i want to never go another six-year-period without owning a pair of bluejeans. i want to return to a bar just because i thought the bartender was cute. and i want to sit late into the night, as darkness folds over itself, falling in love, if only for a morning.