currently listening to: "Fuel to Fire" by Agnes Obel
I love how different people are.
It may seem like a no brainer that people are different, but believe me, it's a lesson I'm learning anew every day.
It's the kind of lesson that creeps up in relationships, finds its way into businesses, and shows itself blatantly in varying cultures and religions.
It's a lesson that, if never learned, can truly cripple you.
It's a lesson that I've continued to learn through the brilliance of travel.
I love travel.
There are so many reasons I love it, and some of them are hard to put into words that make sense unless you've been there to smell, taste, and know them.
Macaron crumbs scattered on the bed, unnoticed as you drift off to sleep in a warm apartment above the glittery streets of Paris. Fish and chips fresh and drizzly on your lips, a salty warmth on a London day sparkling with snow flurries. Ears are biting, fingertips are clutching the toasty foil.
Climbing the dark stone ruins above Slane, Ireland, breathing deeply and smelling grass, trees, dirt, legends.
Holding in the gasp of terror as the giant stingray approaches, feeling the absolute elation of a desperate fear being conquered. Squinting against the sunshine, feeling it purge your skin of moisture, then diving back into the water for a fresh wave of coolness.
Why travel.
I think wanderlust is a real thing. Once you start, a craving begins, a true longing for new places.
Exploring is addictive, adventures tend to multiply.
I have been blessed to see a tiny glimpse of the world, and I think if I could I would hand it out to everyone I know like candy.
I would give it away because I think everyone needs it, and it would be a thrill to give it.
In America we generally have a very small view of things. Usually it begins with "me" and ends with "me."
What's happening inside my head, my heart, my bubble, that's the end all and be all of life.
Traveling tends to demand a balance of your view of the world. Or it at least demands that you consider it. Your expectations and assumptions of other countries and of humankind in general.
Traveling is a shock to the senses, a learning experience and a joy.
And boy, it shows you how small are you. The intricacies of God's design, the diversity of His people all over the globe. How infinitely miniscule you are in the grand scheme of things, in the vast universe.
Traveling will give you insight to that diversity
As a Christian, traveling takes my breath away. It makes me cry, it stores a piece of eternity in my heart and mind. It shows me how large and varied the Christian church really is.
It will show you faith, in all its forms, sizes, faces and languages.
The world is like a tray of colorful herbs and spices, awaiting to tantalize and educate you.
That's why. It's why I travel, and it's why I want to travel with my future children in tow.
I want to show them the beautiful world, to share with them the many discoveries of traveling, both profound and simple.
To show them in a real way that life goes beyond our living room, our technology, our toys, our me.
I've been a little bit of a bloggy failure as of late.
I've had all sorts of fun mini adventures and have tons of pictures as proof of my activity, and somewhere along the line I got overwhelmed and every day I think I might blog, I end up not blogging, and letting more and more adventures pile up without sharing them.
Sometimes I think it's nice to just let adventures be a secret.
That being said, I still haven't even blogged about our last day in Paris! Like. 4 months ago. Yikes.
Besides that, I need to tell you about Cleveland, about saying bye to my brother, about the drive back and getting back to life in an empty apartment. Funny how two adults and two cats in a teensy apartment can feel "empty" after having the warmth of family there.
I need to tell you about being homesick and going out on date nights to reconnect, about starting the new season of The Bachelorette because we're just those kinds of people.
About starting the fabulous summer tradition of playing beach volleyball with our friends, about Lynchburg Restaurant Week and beer cheese soup and how our life group at church is doing, and about having one of my lifelong friends come and visit for a week.
I certainly need to tell you that my lavender latte is alive and well and that I made a bacon-wrapped, blue-cheese topped grilled peach that changed my life.
I need to tell you about the fourth of july and about the amazing weather and about listening to a book on tape with the windows down, and about our amazing trip this weekend to Richmond that was full of childish glee on roller coasters and dancing to music and eating ice cream and eating a fancy dinner in a movie theater. About how Bread & Wine by Shauna Niequist is lovely and all of you lady loves of my heart need to read it.
I feel far away from you all because you don't know any of this very vital information.
For now all I'll really say is that this summer couldn't be more different than last summer.
Last summer we went home in late June, came back to Virginia and it was stifling hot, we almost died in Washington D.C., we had an endless string of family visitors, we went on an amazing cruise, to Jamaica and the Cayman Islands, and ended with Disney World and Harry Potter world...
This summer, we went home in May, had all of our visitors come and go before July, and it has been steadily rainy/stormy/in the 80's all summer long.
Yesterday it was 84 degrees and I wore a sweater. Today is overcast and 70 degrees and I'm wearing long sleeves and wishing I had worn socks because my office is even chillier.
The weather forecast is cloudy and thunderstormy until further notice.
Dusty and I often refer to last summer as the best summer of our lives. He even had t-shirts made for us at the end of it, because it was one of those rare moments when we actually knew we were living the golden days and cherished it appropriately.
This summer is so different that it's hard not to compare and say, "What the heck are we doing in this cold summer? Get us back to Summer Tweeeeelve!"
It's an oxymoron, really. Cold summer. Psh.
But the grass is always greener, and blah blah cliches, and we've chosen to absolutely enjoy the beautiful weather. Because how can anyone be upset about 70 degrees in July?
We play volleyball with our friends, the gorgeous breezes and sunsets as our natural accessories, and find other ways to cook dinner besides our go-to summer grilling when the week is full of rain.
Summer Treize (every summer has to have a nickname, amiright?) is turning out to be mighty fine.
Now we'll just pray that August doesn't sneak up on us, roasting and killing us with belated heat.
The bottom line is, to bequote my new BFF Bread & Wine,
It seems like most of the things we try to make profound never are,
lost in our insistence and fretting and posing. When we want something to be momentous, it rarely is.
Life is disobedient in that way, insisting on surprising us with its magic,
stubbornly unwilling to be glittery on command.
I have a love/hate relationship with that quote. It boths speaks to me and slaps me in the face, because I do that all the time. Oh, everybody pose! Everybody look happy! This party has to be the best ever...this summer has to be like Summer Tweeeeelve. Pout, stomp, fist-shake: why isn't this perfectly the way I envisioned?
I'm sure I'm not the only one with control issues. I didn't think I had control issues until recently, so coming to the realization that I have a whole new giant flaw is upsetting in and of itself.
Let's make a toast to summer, and not just this summer, but every summer, every season.
Cheers to letting go and enjoying the ruined plans, the bits and pieces, the chaos that makes life all the merrier.
I absolutely love to eat out.
I'm the person that always leaves a good tip, loves to smile at the waiter or waitress, oohs and aahs at every tasty thing, and looks forward eagerly to the next stage of the meal, particularly the finishing cup of coffee with cream and sugar.
I don't have bad times at restaurants. I just don't. I always enjoy it. I know what to expect, I know how the system works...it's all pretty standard and I know what I like to eat, so I'm hardly ever disappointed.
Since moving to Virginia, we've had a great time experimenting with new places. We haven't loved and raved about every single one, but for the most part, we really enjoy the restaurants we've been to.
I think I've only written one bad review on this blog.
Well, buckle up, sailor, because you're about to enter... THE DINING TWILIGHT ZONE.
It all started on one eerie Thursday night. It happened to be Valentine's Day, which would have explained the fancy way we were dressed, and all the pink and red being worn.
The amazing dress was bought weeks in advance, the anticipation for being worn growing with each passing day. The suit and tie was worn from morning to date -- one of the perks of being in law school and dressing up every day, there's no need for an outfit change for a fancy date night.
The drive: 19.9 miles, approximately 30 minutes.
Bedford.
Reservations had been made in anticipation for this night, and nothing could go wrong.
Reviews were raving, main street was hopping, bedford was charming and the restaurant was darling.
All the proper ingredients for an evening of romance.
Flowers adorned our corner table, and the other chairs throughout the restaurant were decorated with smiling people paired off in sweet couples or laughing in large groups.
7:15 - We sat on the same side of the table, the booth side.
Maybe that's where we went wrong.
Maybe, in the Big Book of Restaurant Voodoo, a curse befalls those who cuddle.
We'll never really know.
The restaurant was chatty and loud and clinking, so we sat side by side, perusing the menu and whispering sweet nothings. Like, "Cake". And "Creme Brulee".
7:22 - A woman arrives. She looks innocent enough. She informs us that she is not our waitress, but would love to take our drink order.
Water for me, cola for him. 7:30 - Our true waitress presents herself, helping us decide what to eat and how to decide between which steak and which seafood dish. She's quiet. Her eyes whisper evil. We order.
Appetizers: wedge salad for me, crab mac & cheese for him/us.
Entrees: salmon for me, steak for him.
A Valentine's Day card, for him: And then the prince and the princess rode off into the sunset, stopped at Ye Olde Pizza Shoppe on the way to the castle... ...and spent the evening in their leisure cloaks, snuggling on the royal sofa and watching movies on the imperial flat screen. Ours is my favorite fairy tale.
7:40 - The table to our left becomes occupied, with a sweet and rich-looking couple. They're visited by a neighboring couple, and the wife is wearing a fur coat. They mention their daughter lives in San Francisco and is working for Google. They're fancy. The table to our right seats a group of four, they receive their entrees.
A neighboring waitress notices our drinks are gone, offers to get us refills and more bread. Bread? What bread? our stomachs cry.
Refills and smiles arrive for the tables to our right and left.
8:00 - The salad and mac & cheese arrive. Delightful. We scarf them down with reckless abandon.
Tables around us empty; the table to our left receives their appetizers.
We ask a next-door waitress for refills.
8:10 - Our waitress returns, just as we've forgotten her face. We introduce ourselves.
We ask her for more bread. She nods, avoiding eye contact.
Our food will be out shortly.
Lies.
8:20 - We get more bread. The sweet nothings are becoming less pleasant. Like "Vegan cake", and "Sugarless pudding".
The table to our left receives their entrees.
8:30 - The table to our right is enjoying their desserts and wine.
8:45 - We make awkward eye contact multiple times with our waitress, who hasn't come across the invisible line in the middle of the restaurant for half an hour.
We start to realize she's cast some spell on us - we are invisible and unable to communicate with anyone around us.
This is confirmed as the man next to us drunkenly yells, "where'd that weird young couple go!"
Or maybe that was just my imagination.
The table to our left receives their desserts and fresh coffee with cream and sugar.
8:50 - Dusty's eyes start to bulge and his wisdom-teethless cheeks look angry. I try to calm him down but all I can say is, "Bullion cubes", which aren't even sweet at all.
9:00 - A strange, gangly bus boy comes to our table. "Just to make sure - you guys have not received your food, correct?"
Dusty's imagination is running violently amuck and can be seen clearly through his eyeballs and I have to quickly answer, "No!" before he says anything.
The table to our left is now empty.
9:10 - Dusty fights his way across the cursed restaurant barrier, pushing back a troll and smiting a flock of fairies before he reaches the dungeon keeper, victorious.
He lets her know we would like to leave. We do not want our food, we just want to go home. NEVER! she shouts, Dusty does a counter-spell, she softens, and says, yes. Yes.We will box up your food. No, we don't want it. Dusty shakes his head. We just want to go home. It's a busy night, the kitchen is backed up...
Righteous indignation flashes, No. No, it's not. We've seen successful eating, drinking, and happily leaving all evening. Particularly with that blasted table to our left. Do not lie to me.
She breaks down. Take it all, all for free. 9:30 - We pull out of the parking lot, cold and feeling weird. The Twilight Zone.
I still have no explanations for any of the night's events. I'd like to think we were somehow invisible, that there must have been some kind of mix-up...it was one of the strangest experiences of my life.
We were just flat-out ignored all night long. We were exhausted and totally bummed out.
Luckily, the owner handled it well...she admitted that she had no good excuse, and that sometimes things just didn't go right. She gave us our food boxed up, and comped the entire meal. She even threw in a $25 gift card.
On the way home, we sang together, ran through McDonald's for cookies and shakes, and cuddled up at home.
Overall, I can't complain too much. It may have been a kind of wasted evening but I still have an amazing husband who makes even bad adventures a heck-of-a-lot better. :)
And I got to wear the anticipated dress.
We're planning on getting dressed up again, same outfits, and going out to a local restaurant for another fun dinner this weekend.
And meanwhile, I got to feel super fancy at work today with my salmon and potatoes for lunch!
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
How was your night??
One of my best friends is getting married in less than 2 weeks.
Ah!
It's actually the main reason we're going home. We're really excited that we were able to extend the trip to see our loved ones as well, and spend time at home.
It's hard to believe we're only 3 1/2 days away from flying out!
I was in our apartment last night, working on some things that I'm making for Lauren for her wedding.
We were texting and reminiscing...
The first picture of us.
It's hard to believe that's us.
When we met freshman year of college, we were both 3 hops and a skip away from being total messes.
We clung to each other like bees to honey. Or more like Taco Bell to a freshman girl's waistline.
We had a lot of the same things going (or not going) for us: long-distance boyfriend, being a freshman, not having many (if any) friends, new to choir...
I think Lauren and I were able to fill in the gaps of where the other person struggled the most.
We were there for each other.
I started out as a Music major, so all of my classes were at 8am.
ABSURDITY.
I was never on time. I slept through a lot of them...but worst of all, I would go to my classes in the clothes I slept in, and then go back to bed after they were through.
It was embarrassing.
And Lauren helped me out of that funk. She was so much more outgoing than I was!
I always knew she was coming when I heard that fast-paced pitter-patter of her feet running down my dorm hall. We became inseparable.
She was my first adult friend, one that I met and loved and clicked with right away. We were our own little love story.
That first time we said "you're my best friend" was as dramatic as a proposal. We were both nervous, shy, and ecstatic when the other person returned our sentiments. Haha!
This is the moment right after we said those fateful words:
It's a horrific picture, we know. Probably one of the most awkward pictures we've ever taken.
Unless you count these:
We had a game we played, where we'd yell out something and have to imitate that in the picture. It could be anything.
"Lesbian dinosaur", "Constipated hippo", "Seductive man," "Rogue fairy"...the list goes on and on.
She was a pro.
Sometimes it's hard to think about too much, because I honestly miss those days a lot.
There's nothing like being married, and I wouldn't trade that for the world. But there's something about the community that exists in college that you never really have again. Being down the hall from your best friend, living in an apartment with a group of girls, always within hands reach of a late-night escapade.
In the midst of it, we thought our lives were pretty boring. Lauren and I would always complain that we weren't living life, or seizing the day, or going on adventures, or whatever.
But looking back, our lives were fantastic, and hilarious, and ridiculous. We could have been our own TV show. "How I Met Your Mother" or "Friends" status.
The fun adventures, the cheesy inside jokes, the road trips, the parties, the apartment troubles, the "coming of age" stories, the shopping, the boy troubles, the silly fights.
There are so many moments I look back on.
Freshman year, we would try so hard to have a "thing"...to have a hobby, or something to define us.
I can't tell you how many times we went to Target. Sometimes just to hang out. Sometimes for inspiration.
This is when we bought new Tennis rackets at Target. We went all out. Got all dressed up for our new daily Tennis routine!
We. Never. Played.
Not once.
On that night, the Tennis courts were closed. So naturally, we took a bunch of pictures in our new gear with our new rackets.
That would never be used again.
But, that's just what we did. We bought puzzles, crafts, plants, you-name-its. We were constantly in search of new projects to take on. We were searching for who we wanted to be, and what we really wanted to do with our lives.
It was kind of wonderful.
One time, Lauren had to attend a play for a class.
She asked me if I would go, so we headed out to what would become known as the aforementioned "coming of age" type of story.
This is us:
As soon as we walked into the theater building, we felt different. There was something oddly unsettling about going to a play by ourselves, surrounded by adults and fancy old ladies.
Were we adults?
It was like someone handed us two bright shining badges that declared us officially done with childhood.
We sat down in our seats and sat up straight, looking around and smiling at all of the sophistication around us.
As soon as the play started, we were wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
This was a real play. Gritty, real, and emotional. It was dramatic. It was worldly. There was cussing and loud yelling, and no musical numbers to whisk us away.
As strange as it sounds, I think that honestly was a turning point in our lives, in our maturity, and in our friendship. We promised to take advantage of this theater that was so close to us, and to see the inexpensive yet powerful plays that they had each month.
(We never went again.)
We had a lot of fun adventures. We were in choir together, so we traveled around each weekend to different churches for concerts. We also went on choir tour together, all the way to San Francisco and back.
We also ended up in student leadership together, and she even got to be partners with Dusty our senior year!
We frequented Disneyland, as well as San Diego and occasionally the beach.
(We had a really bad experience at the beach early on, and I think it haunted us throughout the rest of our college year. I'd tell it to you, but it's probably best that I don't, to avoid any hurt feelings or mean words. We just refer to it dramatically as "the worst day of our lives".)
We were constantly shopping, eating, getting our nails done, eating, and going to Starbucks.
We actually had a legitimate "regular" Starbucks we went to...so much so, that the adorable lady that worked there began to ask, "The usual?"
I don't know about you, but everyone else on the planet wants to be asked that. If you didn't before, now you do. Because it's in our nature to want to be noticed, and respected as regular patrons.
It's in our nature to want to belong somewhere.
Somewhere like Starbucks.
So, we had a very real dream realized. It was bliss.
That Starbucks is gone now, and it still hurts to talk about.
I was also able to go to Brawley several times, which is Lauren's hometown. Honestly one of my favorite places. I think because it reminds me so much of my hometown of Casa Grande. They're basically the same place, only Brawley is smaller and closer to Mexico.
I fell in love with her stories and her family. I loved going there over a weekend to just hang out, sleep in and drink her mom's coffee.
I remember a very specific instance where her mom came to visit us at CBU, and we went out to dinner. I remember feeling so happy that I had a friend, and I remember Lauren and I telling her mom how we never, ever fought. We were in the honeymoon stage of our friendship, you could say.
While we definitely didn't stay conflict-free forever, our friendship never stopped getting better.
I think one of the biggest gifts was the friendship that was able to develop between Dusty and Lauren. Against all odds, they managed to form their own special bond apart from me. And together, they were my favorite.
It was more than I could have hoped for. And I'm so thankful to both of them.
We went through a lot those crazy 3 1/2 years.
She graduated a semester early and moved to Connecticut, so we ended up saying our goodbyes at Dusty and I's wedding, over Christmas break our senior year.
Suffice it to say, we came a long way from this:
To this:
Well, maybe we haven't changed all that much.
The moral of the story is....you know that whole "Count Your Blessings" thing?
Well, it was true for Andy Griffith, and it's still true today. For me and for you.
You just waste time if you're not enjoying the present.
I would love to travel back to some of the best days, and pay more attention to some of the best moments.
Especially here in law school, I worry that a lot of wives are sitting by, waiting for their "real" lives to start...but the truth is, no matter what part of life you're in, that is your life. And it's passing you by. You're in it, right now.
To quote P.S. I Love You...
Holly: "...I see people buying bigger apartments and having babies...
I get so afraid sometimes that our life's never gonna start."
Gerry: "We're already in our life. It's already started, this is it.
You have to stop waitin', baby."
I have a hundred "Lauren" stories up my sleeve. We had an incredible few years together.
And now it's her turn to get married, and I'm so proud to call her my friend! I'm so happy for her.
And I'm so glad we had each other when we did. Sometimes, the timing is perfect. For us, it was.
Perfect and ridiculous.
Not sure what I would have done without her :)
I thought she was great when I first met her. But to see the woman she has become is pretty stellar. She has changed so much, in all of the best ways.
And she never gave up on me and our friendship.
I'm so happy for her happiness, and for all of the adventures she's going to have with her new love!
To avoid being too sentimental, I'll leave it at that.
Just a few chapters from the Caitlin and Lauren saga.
:)
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