little sarah Big World

Tag: weddings

Home is Where


I Once Was Lost But Now Am Loster


God Bless America

God Bless America

First meal stateside, PDX. Followed by a mocha, of which I drank maybe a third. Bought a book from Powell’s (Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird) and felt more myself than I had in a long time–reading about writing, thinking about reading and writing, writing about thinking and reading and writing. Also buzzed on northwest caffeine.

Portrait of Jet Lag

Jet. Lag. Stayed up til 2 the first night, slept til noon. All of the no-nos, all of the puffiness and confusion.


Sammy and Kendra’s wedding. Only as stressful as to be expected, and also: beautiful, intimate, simple, funny, light-hearted, warm and easy. I played viola and made a toast to the best of my abilities. Little brother is married, and a step-father. What a world.

Every Day

Weddings on the brain. Every time I go to the bathroom in my Moms’ house, I see this. I miss this guy. I miss this wedding.


Burritos on the brain, and in the tummy. All I wanted for the first week.

Pre-Sun Runners

Runners under the spotlight, 4:45am, waiting for our 6am start to the Deseret News Pioneer Day 1/2 Marathon. So many fit people, so little sleep, so much time to wait.


Pioneer Day / Pie and Beer day. Sparkling with close friends, not making a big deal, but having a great deal of fun.

Mornings at B&J's

Coffee and pie. To-do lists. Writing. Emails. Catching up. Mornings alone, at B&J’s, watering plants and easing into the day. Sometimes eager, sometimes anxious. Always slow and steady.

Sister Sleepover

Family time. Sister sleepover. Sharing a bed with Natalie, and all we did was read, then sleep. Sometimes, just being together is the thing. And afterwords you have lovely toenails.

B & D

Pool days with Espy, burgers at B & D’s. Getting tan, reading books. It’s a lot like last summer, only completely different.

*       *       *

The thing about being a sensie (one who is sensitive, in all respects), is that life tends to overwhelm me. It floods me with feelings, thoughts, ideas, emotions, worries, and wonder. It takes me a long time to understand what I feel, to “process.” I tend to dwell on the past, to try to understand. I tend to feel swamped by the present, and anxious about the future. I tend to take a while to get from one place to another, needing to swim through an ocean of tears as I adjust to even the smallest changes.

And, oh, it gets old.

Being home is great, and it is not great. Because it is home, and it is not home. If home is where the heart is, then my heart is split into dozens of pieces. My heart is in Salt Lake, and Ogden, and California, and Brooklyn. My heart is in Anchorage. A big chunk of it is in Tokyo, Japan. We were just getting settled there, just starting to feel at home in our apartment and our routine, starting to make friends and have regular hangouts, and explore Japan a bit. I was finally not homesick.

But now I am home again, except that home is no longer home, no longer even a fixed place, but an ever-moving target and I am slow to adjust. The most confusing to my head and heart.

The food, however, is amazing.

The Best Day of My Life


The Facts:

I bought my dress second-hand, paid for it in cash. $32.61. I knew as soon as I tried it on that it was the dress I would get married in. A winter wedding dress.

Literally everything was borrowed or second-hand, except my pantyhose. Which tore and ran before the ceremony.

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To Be a Bridesmaid

It is hard work. It is lots of planning, and fittings, and discussions of necklines and colors. It is more estrogen in the atmosphere than is probably safe to take in. But you manage, because this is your best friend’s wedding.

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As I Please


How to Go For a Natural High (High! High! High!)

Wednesday I walked to work, rising early and moving fast to get the blood flowing. Made it on time, too, and what a beautiful morning.

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Bon Iver, A Wedding, and Pride


Since I’ve Been Home

The above picture is from the Bon Iver concert at Red Butte, though it is also a great representation of what I’ve done since being home, which is: eat my body weight in hummus and veggies. And drink. That’s ginger-n-bulleit in the nalgene, Friends.

The concert was the night after I got back, and I almost didn’t go due to general crankiness and party poopery, but I’m glad I did, because of this:

Lady Friendships! Oh, how I am sustained by my frienships. I’ve been battling the blues and blahs since getting home (working every day for 3 weeks straight, anyone?), and even just the little chats here and there have really lifted my spirits.

*       *       *

I played a wedding! With Eric! From pianobike! Here’s what that looked like (from my POV):

*       *       *

…and then there was Pride, for which I baked the most failure cupcakes. Actually, they were for Nicole Friend, who loved and accepted them just as they were (you see what I did there?).

Cupcakes before:

Cupcakes after:

Yes, I used pre-fab frosting. Did I mention I’ve worked every day since coming home? The lesson I learned from this is that you can’t take one concept from a favorite blog, superimpose it onto a Bob’s Redmill recipe, make a bunch of vegan and high-altitude adjustments and expect any sort of coherence. That’s just asking too much.

Anyways, Pride:


Rainbows aside, it was a touching, and then painful day. Touching because over 300 Mormons marched in the parade to show their support, reducing many an onlooker (myself included) to tears. Read more about that here.


I really hope that’s a lesson learned. Learning lessons has been a big theme for me since coming home. I may or may not have considered getting “This is how we learn” tattooed somewhere on my body.

I may or may not still be considering that.

Welcome home, me.