Friday, April 15, 2005
Raindrops on Roses
These are a few of my favorite things:
- Homemade Halloween costumes
- Chai tea with extra foam
- Snow angels
- Listening to the rain in the summer
- Roof decks
- Cookouts and cocktails
- Beach volleyball
- Dribble castles
- Mojitos
- Popped collars
- Salt water hair
- Marylou’s and Marshall’s
- Brunch
- Disposable cameras
- Freshly clean down comforters
- The last run of the day
- The North End pool on hung-over days
- The North End pool on sober days
- The North End pool
- Dinner Parties
- Black and white photos
- Scrapbooks
- Vintage art
- Postcards
- Seeing old friends on the street
- Drunk dialing
- Pistachio macaroons
- Barolo
- High school football games
- Speaking Spanish with the guys in the kitchen
- Flip flops
- Urban outfitters clearance rack
- Twinkle lights
- Wrapping gifts
- Cocoa butter chap stick
- Mum’s chicken noodle soup
- Getting letters
- Birthdays
- New bedding
- Family reunions
- Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve
- School Supply shopping at Wal-Mart
- Getting lost
- Lily Pulitzer and Vera Bradley
- Short flights to DC
- Sushi
- The calm before the storm
- The first swim in the ocean of the season
- Texas style French toast with fresh fruit
- Picture frames
- The Laundromat
- Fritos and Coke
- Bowling
- Storm chasing
- Poopsie
- Nintendo
- Meg Ryan Movies
- Moving Day
- Irish Accents
- Flea Markets
- Grilling
- Stanzia Cigar Bar
- Finals week in the NU library
- New Candles
- Cold Pizza for breakfast
- Memo boards full of pictures
- Belly aching laughs
- bleacher seats at fenway
- power lunches including miller lite bottles
- the green dragon on sunday nights
- window shopping
- bananas and cherries
- grilled cheese and tomato
- the wall (not the pink floyd albulm, the actual seawall where so many tears have been shed in vegas)
- drunken cab rides
- boys in redsox hats
- waking up to 14 missed calls
- waking up to 14 missed calls from the same person
- my sister on crazy pink day
- watching the fireworks from clay pit road during the marshfield fair
// posted by .elle. @ 4:57 PM
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
San Antonio's Got Nothing on Boston
The first day of flip flop weather always makes me smile. Dining al fresco, canoodling in the park, endless walks through boston common and the public garden. This year, which is starting like any other warm season, is quite a bit different. I have multitudes of friends to dine al fresco with, a beautiful person to canoodle in the park with and me, myself, and I to meander through the common and garden. It's sox season, Marathon Monday is right around the corner and lazy north end pool days and roof deck parties are on their way. I'm in a good place. But something is missing. You are missing.
// posted by .elle. @ 4:55 PM
Monday, April 11, 2005
Don't It Always Seem To Go
One thing that I have never been able to grasp is the fact that people don't understand what they have until after suffering a loss. Families become closer after crisis, lost loves suddenly seem perfect, treasured friendships seem more precious after moving to a strange place.
The trouble with love is, it doesn't matter who you are. Loving unconditionally, and being completely and utterly vulnerable is hard. When I feel myself getting lost, I throw myself into a new relationship to find out who I am. The relationships I consume myself with, make or break me. And ultimately, I am left a broken little girl trying to scramble and pick up all the pieces before they are blown away by the wind or warm summer breeze, depending on the season.
Don't it always seem to go that the ones you trust the most, seem to let you down the most? Your father makes a bad call and suddenly you realize that the man who taught you how to ride a bike, catch a fish, drive a stick shift, look at the world with open eyes, isn't invincible. As a self proclaimed daddy's girl, I struggle with the fact that my dad isn't untouchable, his sun bronzed skin and naturally muscled build, is allowed to be afraid, vulnerable, shitting-in-his-pants-scared. That, if anything, he can't put his two beautiful little girls in glass bubbles and protect them from skinned knees, vicious words, broken hearts, drunken moments of embarrassment, sticks and stones kind of shit. What hurts the most, is that my sister and I aren't little girls anymore. We're young adults. We are vulnerable to the world and all of its trials. And the only corrupt judges in this judicial system are ourselves.
I am firm believer that the relationships you ensue help you become the person you are. Getting hurt, being used, using other people, hurting other people are all learning processes. The day I fear the most is when I call up one of my girls from high school, who mean so much me today and the conversation is forced. Screaming children in the background, dinner burning on the stove, the husband beeping in saying he has to work late and won't make it in time to dine with the family, girl scouts ringing the doorbell selling cookies, (or even worse, a jehovah's witness in a suit trying to convert you to their religion... thats more like a nightmare). All while apologetically trying to juggle old and new. "Sorry Jules, I gotta go, I'll call you back after I put the kids to sleep". You'll play phone tag for three weeks, until you dance in the kitchen again with the phone cord get caught between the dog's legs as he spills over his water dish.
Losing those relationships might be more subconciously devistating that physically losing someone. People go threw their whole lives loving other people. Real love, false love, want-it-to-work-so-bad love. When does one get to love themselves? Now? At 21 years old? At 21 I'm dating boys who are 27. At 27 I'll probably have a rock on the fourth finger in on my left hand with someone that I've been seeing for three years and hardly even know. When does life begin? As my mum always says... "life happens when you are busy making plans michelle, live within your day and you'll be happy" Good to know all that alanon paid off. Live within your day. Tomorrow always looks greener, brighter. What do you have to look forward to if you live within your day, what you are going to have for dinner? Dreams, aspriations, feelings... don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you had until you lost them?
The trouble with love is, it doesn't matter who you are. Loving unconditionally, and being completely and utterly vulnerable is hard. When I feel myself getting lost, I throw myself into a new relationship to find out who I am. The relationships I consume myself with, make or break me. And ultimately, I am left a broken little girl trying to scramble and pick up all the pieces before they are blown away by the wind or warm summer breeze, depending on the season.
Don't it always seem to go that the ones you trust the most, seem to let you down the most? Your father makes a bad call and suddenly you realize that the man who taught you how to ride a bike, catch a fish, drive a stick shift, look at the world with open eyes, isn't invincible. As a self proclaimed daddy's girl, I struggle with the fact that my dad isn't untouchable, his sun bronzed skin and naturally muscled build, is allowed to be afraid, vulnerable, shitting-in-his-pants-scared. That, if anything, he can't put his two beautiful little girls in glass bubbles and protect them from skinned knees, vicious words, broken hearts, drunken moments of embarrassment, sticks and stones kind of shit. What hurts the most, is that my sister and I aren't little girls anymore. We're young adults. We are vulnerable to the world and all of its trials. And the only corrupt judges in this judicial system are ourselves.
I am firm believer that the relationships you ensue help you become the person you are. Getting hurt, being used, using other people, hurting other people are all learning processes. The day I fear the most is when I call up one of my girls from high school, who mean so much me today and the conversation is forced. Screaming children in the background, dinner burning on the stove, the husband beeping in saying he has to work late and won't make it in time to dine with the family, girl scouts ringing the doorbell selling cookies, (or even worse, a jehovah's witness in a suit trying to convert you to their religion... thats more like a nightmare). All while apologetically trying to juggle old and new. "Sorry Jules, I gotta go, I'll call you back after I put the kids to sleep". You'll play phone tag for three weeks, until you dance in the kitchen again with the phone cord get caught between the dog's legs as he spills over his water dish.
Losing those relationships might be more subconciously devistating that physically losing someone. People go threw their whole lives loving other people. Real love, false love, want-it-to-work-so-bad love. When does one get to love themselves? Now? At 21 years old? At 21 I'm dating boys who are 27. At 27 I'll probably have a rock on the fourth finger in on my left hand with someone that I've been seeing for three years and hardly even know. When does life begin? As my mum always says... "life happens when you are busy making plans michelle, live within your day and you'll be happy" Good to know all that alanon paid off. Live within your day. Tomorrow always looks greener, brighter. What do you have to look forward to if you live within your day, what you are going to have for dinner? Dreams, aspriations, feelings... don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you had until you lost them?
// posted by .elle. @ 8:53 PM
