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i'm launching a new twitter project/account/alias :) if you can guess what it's about, i'll give you a prize! (you have a pretty good chance considering there are, um, 4 people who read my blog!)

A Monday Letter

Dear Todd,

It’s Monday. And I can’t help but remember the Monday morning feelings I felt exactly one year ago today, waking up next to my fiancé who had proposed just the day before. It was a day of overwhelming love, gratitude, excitement, family and giddiness for what was to come. I couldn’t believe what was happening just before my eyes.

This morning, our alarms went off simultaneously and I had a lucid flashback to that Monday morning after November 15, 2009. That same excitement, love and gratitude rushed over me as I turned to you this morning and kissed your scruffy face. It’s been a year of adventure, of ups and downs, of learning and growing and loving. It’s been a year of finding out who we are – as husband and wife, as roommates, as soulmates.

So, thank you. Thank you…
…for making me laugh uncontrollably with your imitations of an Italian ambulance speeding through the cobblestone streets of Rome
…for perfecting the art of the crockpot and grilled vegetables, and for cooking your own steak so I don’t have to
…for being my warmest blanket
…for encouraging me to step outside of my comfort zone and go camping in sub-zero temperatures (okay, it was 37 degrees)
…for pushing me to talk about things when I want to shut down. Or cry. Or both.
…for bringing flowers home “just because”
…for picking up your life and moving it 50 miles south
…for making the mundane seem fun (I love it when you sing songs as we unpack the groceries)
…for your calming demeanor that makes life seem like a piece of cake sometimes
…for being the very best pasta-maker on this earth. Your homemade linguine comes out way better than mine.
…for loving my family and friends and treating them like they’re yours
…for wiping the tears when they wont stop; for lending your t-shirt as a tissue :)
…for wearing your hideous sandals in spite of the mockery; I love a man who stays true to himself
…for welcoming me in to the most loving, fun and supportive family that I’m so excited to call my own
…for signing us up for this crazy adventure called marriage one year ago today!

I love you more every day.

Love,
The other half of Double T

I'll Show You a Place High on a Desert Plain, Where the Streets Have No Name

Tomorrow morning I'm heading out to Joshua Tree for the first time with some friends.

We'll be dreaming beneath the desert sky in God's Country, according to U2's infamous album of the same name.

It sounds like paradise actually, minus some small details: 35 degree temperatures and absence of running water. I'm so excited to get away and enjoy some beautiful hikes, tasty treats and campside beverages.

And a hubby to keep me toasty :)

In 20 Photos

I came across this article yesterday and it had me in hysterics. I've never seen two cuter kids with a more talented dad, and he has captured their personalities and the joy of childhood so amazingly well! If we only all had creative brains like Jason Lee's.

Deck the Walls

We moved in to our apartment in June, and from day one it felt like a home. Comfy couches, walls painted with rich hues of blue and eggplant, a kitchen stocked with tools, dishtowels and gadgets that would make Ina Garten jealous.
But our bedroom? Three barren white walls. A desk. Two dressers. A bed. And lots and lots of clothes. It needed help.

So off to the antique market I went, five months after we moved in. Then to Target. Then to Aaron Brothers. Then back to Target. Z Gallerie. Etsy. Pottery Barn. Slowly but surely, our bedroom doesn't look like a hotel room. Our bedroom is starting to look like ours. An eclectic mix of picture frames and vintage prints make up this shelf that shows off a few of my true loves: Paris, big leafy trees, Marc Chagall, vintage keys, old street signs and more. It's a work in progress but it's something I can finally be happy to sit and stare at from bed on a lazy Sunday morning :)

Public. Private. Public. Private.

So my track record is kinda stinky. 10 months in between blog posts is a far cry from consistent, but really... I can attribute it to an ongoing battle in my own little head. I don't like pouring my heart out to the world wide web, yet I sometimes feel that if I don't write enough, I might just explode.

If I make it "invited readers only", I'm afraid I'll subconsciously screen what I say, and at the same time, I probably wont reach the group of anonymous readers that I'd like to reach. I'm a total blog-stalker myself and would hate to miss out on an entire audience of random people that mistakenly find my blog. That's a big part of all the fun and I'd kinda hoped to one day have a little interactive bunch of groupies that converse, share thoughts and ideas and random musings within the context of my blog.

So here goes...take five? I guess I've given up on privacy! Public wins...for now.

two thousand and ten.

Oh hey there. Remember me, the inconsistent blogger who just gave a whole new meaning to the word “inconsistent?” And remember back in November when I said I was going to blog. Every. Single. Day. of the month because I felt an overwhelming sense of thanks and that’s what November is all about?

Then I got engaged. Can you imagine the overwhelming sense of thanks I felt on that day and, oops, never once blogged about?

Until now.

November and December were a complete and utter blur. From the most perfect engagement day to weeks of emails, facebook, phone calls, Thanksgiving, engagement celebrations, Christmas, Hanukkah, dress shopping, sister bonding, holiday spirit, a trip to Canada, a trip to Arrowhead. A trip to Los Angeles… or twelve. Wedding talk. Moving out talk. Moving in talk.

Here I am, 10 weeks later, ready to rock it out.

Oh, and J.D. Salinger died today. In his honor, I leave you with my most favoritest quote from his claim to novel fame, Catcher in the Rye.

“The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody’d move... Nobody’d be different. The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you’d be so much older or anything. It wouldn’t be that, exactly. You’d just be different, that’s all. You’d have an overcoat on this time. Or the kid that was your partner in line last time had got scarlet fever and you’d have a new partner. Or you’d have a substitute taking the class instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or you’d have heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you’d just passed by one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows in them. I mean, you’d be different in some way – I can’t explain what I mean. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d feel like it.”

bringing in the new year, beachside in malibu. perfection.