On Infatuation

Things I'm Obsessed With:

Fleece blankets, Dave Eggers, jersey sheets, quinoa salads, snail mail,
picking out presents, (Italian) Greyhounds, Grey's Anatomy, HBO, never throwing up, fresh flowers, growing old, nurses, teachers, typewriters, the NYT Modern Love column, potlucks, personality theory, my family, my nephew, babies in general, parks, picnics, coffee, literary fiction, Victorian novels, algebra, balloons, Dawson's Creek, ravioli, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, independent films, summer camp, glitter, birthdays, breakfast, and romance. 

(What about you?)

(Enjoy.)
 
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On Self-Protection

One Foot Out.

We create walls and barriers to protect ourselves from the inevitable heartbreak that comes along with letting others get close to us without acknowledging that it’s this very vulnerability that simultaneously makes life grand.  And when pain and suffering do infiltrate our tiny universe in spite of our persistent attempt to control the atomic molecules around us, we are reminded of our own stamina and strength that continue to reliably persevere, and that there is no gain without the accompanying (in)tolerable pain.  Enjoy! 

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On Personal Brands

Think Before We Act.

Every word, breath, and sigh represents the brand of our own selves in the world through which we navigate.  We must think before we act, pause before we step, and reflect before we resign, as the interpretation of our actions depends on the senses of the eyes and ears taking us in combined with our personal responsibility to reflect upon, mold, and change how we are embraced.  Enjoy!  

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On Fighting Distraction

iPhone Off.

During my bus ride to work this morning, I made the conscious decision to fight the nagging impulse to check my email and text messages after each new stop sign or red light.  And so for the entirely of the twenty-minute commute, my mind was free to wander to the people in the seats around me (imagine that!), and wander it did.   I became hyper aware of the angst-ridden, puberty-stricken high school teenagers who filled the handicapped seats up front (reserved for people much older than them) who clearly take for granted that they can wear jeans and sweatpants to school with little to no consequence.  Some conversed about sports and upcoming assignments, while other hid behind hoods and headphones, tuning the world out until they had no choice.  I reminisced for a moment, envied their carelessness, and then moved on to bigger and better things: the Words With Friends game of my neighbor. Enjoy! 

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On (After) the Breakup

Moving On.

For at least the second ten to twenty years of our lives (if not more), we torment ourselves over breakups and makeups, lost and unrequited loves, lust after people just out of (our) reach, and envy the rare few who make it appear easy during our initial (and latter) double digit life processes (our teens & adulthood), and maybe even divorce.  Until the day we don't, when we meet someone who makes the preceding relationships and non-relationships seem like rehearsals for the storm before the calm, when life and romance settle into something tangible and real, sensible and permanent, the part at the end of the movie where things really do work out after the closing credits and tissues are reserved for happiness.  Enjoy!

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On Sugar Overload

Easter 101.

Until I moved to Denver, Easter references meant nothing. For me, Aprils have been marked by Passover seders and matzoh hunts, during which sparse pieces of salty parsley and bitter herbs were washed down with overly-sweetened red wine.  Now, after my second year of formal Easter celebrations (with my future in-laws), sugar overload and egg-dying competitions (between adults) make sense of the myriad of facebook references.  This year, the Easter bunny showered us with (literally) pounds of diverse candy (some of which is currently en route via snail mail to my favorite Jews on the east coast) and a 75-egg search & rescue meant only for the strong, with surprise glasses of Manischewitz in between hard-earned discoveries.  Enjoy!

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On Setting Limitations

One Juicer at a Time.

As I neurotically debate about whether to add a juicer to my wedding registry, fantasies of (potentially) relocating to a more crowded city with smaller (uninhabitable) living spaces (aka my former New York City apartment) flash before my hungry eyes.  Torn between my unrealistic fantasy of limitless portions of fruits and vegetables and the harsh reality of dusty clutter including a juicer that never actually left its box, I officially decide to add it to the list, leaving it in fates hands (or those of my matrimonial guests) to make the final decision for me: to juice or not to juice.  Enjoy!  

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