A couple pleasing sights:
Because I think we all know about my appreciation for graffiti, especially when traveling.
Slow It Down, Now
Remember how I had to get sick to realize that sometimes it’s okay to just do nothing? To amble, meander, even saunter? I was serious about that, Friends! I’ve been working on enjoying the journey, not just racing to the destination. So I walk more. Sometimes at night. Here’s what that looks like, from the library to my place.
I had to text my Eric friend the other morning to ask him, “…where did all of this self-love come from? Im enjoying it, but i also find myself asking ‘why now?’ ”
Because I don’t fully understand it, Friends. Something I’ve been striving for for so long–a sense of grace, of calm and peace and joy–is suddenly within my grasp. All I had to do was let go.
More and more I spend my time as I please, and every moment–every movement–seems delicate and sweet. Like making lists, reading in bed right when I wake up, tidying the apartment, and baking banana bread.
It was a rare slow morning, a “day off” I believe it’s called, though it’s been so long, who can remember? So I blissed out, enjoyed every aspect of it. The soft sunlight shining in through the kitchen window, circles of brown sugar and white flower. Soothing stirring and pouring motions. Listening to the Temptations and wearing a fancy apron. All of it.
And so maybe you folks will not be as into these photos as I was, but I seriously appreciated every step in the process, every angle and curve. Therefore, I documented:
I like the way everything comes together with baking. You measure, mix, and it’s like magic, the way it turns into something more than the sum of the parts. Except when its a disaster. Then I throw a tantrum. But not this day. This day I had a morning to myself, a spot of sunlight to dance in, and a delicious chocolate chip banana bread muffin.
…which I could only eat half of. So then I stopped. Just like I stopped going to CrossFit, for the time being, because I prefer running and yoga to weight training.
I think this is what they call “listening to your body and your self,” which is also a novel approach for me. Because a easy, peaceful morning can just as easily slide into a 48-hour work week, leaving me with an eye twitch and a need to seriously re-asses my priorities.
Because lately little sarah Big World Traveler would like nothing more than to settle down for a minute, commit to the plans I’ve made for right here, right now. Work less, relax more. Then maybe more mornings could be filled with baking, blogging, and self love.
As opposed to, you know, waking up at 5:30 and working until 9pm. I don’t want that anymore. I want to savor the moment.
I enjoy it, that’s all.
I mean, yeah, getting my period is pretty much a torturous life-and-death experience every month, but then I just forget about it. Isn’t that why people have more than one child?
Anyways, I’ve been waiting for over a month to post this picture of my most favorite (and, well, ONLY) toiletries. It’s because I can only get the Rose Petal Witch Hazel from Whole Foods, and goodness knows I don’t go there but twice a year.
Sometimes I’m prone to daintiness, friends. To beautification rituals and tonics and powders and creams.
I kinda dig it.
Early mornings, watching the city wake up with the sun outside and the busying street. Hot, black coffee. Regulars, like Art, who always gets a glass mug, a palmier, a refill, and tips at the end.
Chatting with the bakers, filling orders, grinding beans. Coffee dust everywhere, perfuming my hair and clothes for hours afterwards.
The hiss and purr of steaming milks, delicate dripping filling huge pots of coffee, and light crunch of flaky pastries. Clinking plates and silverware.
* * *
It is not my dream job, not my life’s work, but it is a satisfying way to pass the time.
The Single Life
Moms are in LA for the weekend, with Rose-a-bose, so I’m on duty on the domestic front. I have a whole, clean, warm house all to myself and don’t work until Monday. Lots of quiet alone time.
I love my moms’ house. The nice sheets, big bed. Clean bathtub. I love how there are pots and pans and spices and all of the kitcheny things that I don’t have. Things like a cake carrier, which I have coveted for years, and is now, apparently, mine. Thanks, Moms.
Other than Ladies Night, it’s been deliciously uneventful. Sleeping in, eating cookies for breakfast. Watching 30 Rock and SNL episodes on Hulu. Reading magazines. Doing laundry. Catching up on my blog, with no distractions or obligations. It’s been great. Just what I needed.
* * *
As my Melissa friend pointed out last night, with no kids and a boyfriend halfway around the world, pretty much all my time is me time.
And I’m okay with that.
This is How We Thursday
Oh, mans, I wasn’t even going to post tonight, DESPITE the fact that yesterday we reached a new all-time high view count of 111! (Yes, WE, Friends. We did this together!)
See, tonight is Thursday, and Thursdays I work until 9. Thursdays I eat whatever I want for dinner while watching TV. Tonight it was vegan hot wings, a side salad, and beer(s).
Hot wings courtesy of Nicole friend. Love it. Love her guts. Love Thursdays. Tell you why:
Because sometimes Life is shit, Friends. Surely I don’t even need to tell you this. You already know about Life/shit, about long-distance relationships, about working too many jobs with conflicting early and late schedules, about crying in the bathroom on your lunch break because you are so tired and walked all the way from downtown to your moms’ house and all you want to do is take a nap and eat lunch before second work, but the maid is there and you don’t want to disturb her with what you are about to do to the kitchen/fridge area. Okay, maybe that last one was mostly specific to my life.
Sometimes Life is shit, and it’s complicated, and you have no control (and maybe you’re a control-freak-type? I am!), and nothing is going to get solved tonight.
And is that okay, Friends? YES, that is okay! Because it is Thursday. Thursday means hot wings for dinner, and watching TV while you eat, and dancing around your apartment, and cleaning dishes, because you know that shit is gonna please you much-like in the morning, and reading a book that you can not WAIT to read, generously loaned out by a co-worker:
What’s that in the upper right-hand corner, you ask? Is that a Santigold album? IT IS. Am I going to shimmy-shimmy-shake while drinking beer and blogging?