Hindsight

(day 30 of 30 in 30)I was gchatting with a friend about the bittersweetness tha taccompanied dropping her little sister off for college. We started talking about all the dumb things we did at that age, neither of us having big sisters, or any older siblings for that matter, to guide us along the way. … Continue reading Hindsight

Fix You

(day 29 of 30 in 30)I have a difficult relationship with being “fixed.”It goes without saying, I believe, that I could certainly use some fixing. And lord knows I could use some guidance or support while fixing. But I have never been particularly fond of the idea of letting someone else “fix me.”Saviors usually get … Continue reading Fix You

Talk that Talk

(day 27 of #30 in 30)We’re standing on the curb waiting for the valet to pull my car around. He’s behind me, his arms laced loosely around my neck and shoulders, his chin resting on top of my curls, his entire front pressed against my entire back. We don’t find ourselves particularly in need of … Continue reading Talk that Talk

Longing

(day 22 of 30 in 30) I’ve always had a complicated relationship with longing. As I am deeply pragmatic almost to the point of extreme, it is not a feeling I am all that terribly acquainted with. I like it this way. Longing is the type of emotion that I cannot process on any sort … Continue reading Longing

Excuses

(day 16 of 30 in 30) Sometimes when I write deeply personal things like the last couple posts, it takes a lot out of me. It makes me wonder why, all these years later, I'm still writing. If I share too much, say too much too openly to strangers. Not all of whom would wish … Continue reading Excuses

Sleep Walking

(day 14 of 30 in 30)My day goes like this;I wake up, in general 30 minutes later than I need to, effectively rendering my ability to put on a full face of makeup null and void. “Good Morning” plays, softly at first, then gradually growing louder. I am usually fully awake by the time Kanye … Continue reading Sleep Walking

Cycles

(day 13 of 30 in 30)A few years ago, seated at the breakfast bar in a far flung aunt’s kitchen in St. Louis, my grandmother said the thing I have been avoiding admitting to myself for quite some time. We had stumbled onto the subject of my daddy, both of us lamenting the fact that … Continue reading Cycles