NYC: 1, LA: 0

I was planning on writing a post about how I conquered the local bus system, and finally figured out how to navigate around this little town sans roommate's car or favors from my neighbors.

But then I waited half an hour for a bus that never came (when they only come every hour anyway), and decided that my trusty little legs are better than any air-conditioned seat on a bus.

At least for now.

I'm still determined to figure out at least a couple necessary bus routes to the grocery store and other important places, but we'll save that for another day.

When people ask me where I want to intern/work after I graduate, I usually say New York City or LA, and that I'm pretty torn between the two.

But since LA means traffic and traffic means white knuckles and stress, today I'm leaning toward the Big Apple. or maybe the Windy City.

Committed

Today is my parent's 30th wedding anniversary.

I am so grateful for the example of commitment and true love they show to me and my siblings. No marriage is easy, and my parents have had plenty of tough times, but I am so grateful for the character they possess in the face of difficulty.

The Coalwells are not quitters.

We don't give up when it gets hard.
We don't do things unless we're going to do them well.
We don't start something unless we're going to finish it.

Thanks, Mom and Dad, for teaching me that and so much more.

Summer reminds us every year to keep our hearts young

Okay, so I couldn't find a decent quality live version of this song, but I'm completely smitten with it.

It's so childlike and innocent.

So just listen to it, and then go run through the nearest sprinklers you can find.

Not just another last name

Love-to-be:

Someday, when we take a road trip to your hometown (whether it's 3 days driving or 45 minutes away) so I can meet your folks,

I want to see your high school and eat at the restaurant you bussed tables at before college.
I want to go to your little sister's dance recital, and watch your nephews play little league.
I want to visit with your mom while we clean up the dinner dishes and see all of those embarrassing pictures of you when you were awkward and brace-faced and thirteen.
I want to go out to dinner with your grandparents and listen to them tell all the stories you've heard every year since you were little.

I even want your Dad to tease me because I say "pop" instead of "soda" or the way I jump ten feet if someone sneaks up behind me.

And I hope you don't find it strange that I'll want to send your mother a card on her birthday, or remember to leave the pecans out of the brownies because your little brother is allergic.

You see, my family means everything to me. So if I'm going to become part of your family, too,

well, I'm all in.

To the boy in the computer lab:

Funny how the two of us come here almost every day,

but I don't know your name

or anything about you

Except that you probably know Excel much better than I do,

you check your email almost as much as I do

and you're a PC

If this was a romantic comedy, there would be a mix up at the printer and somehow I'd end up with your calculus review sheet, and you'd go home with my art history slide list and that would give me an excuse to talk to you.

And naturally, I'd ask you why you are taking calculus, and maybe you're a business major, or maybe you are one of those blessed souls who wants to teach 17 year olds about integrals and derivatives.

And I'd tell you that in high school, I spent the majority of my calculus experience listening to Three Days Grace on a borrowed iPod.

And you'd confess that your guilty pleasure music is Hanson post-MMMBop.

And I'd laugh.

Hard.

And you'd like that.

And the beginning would really be that easy.

*meet me at the printer in 5?*

A few good words

"The only way to get through life is to laugh your way through it. You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache."
-Marjorie Pay Hinckley

"The secret of happiness is not in doing what one likes to do, but in liking what one has to do."
-Richard L. Evans

"People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway. If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway. What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway. If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway. The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway. Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway. In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway."
-Mother Theresa

I love that last one. happiness is a choice and some of the happiest people I know, have some of the toughest problems, but they've found a way to see the good through it all.

homemade

I just finished reading A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg. She's the writer of Orangette. She has this magical way of writing like she's had you over for lunch, and after your belly is satisfied like it's never been before, you ask for the recipe, and she, graciously, obliges. And then she tells you about that one time when she made it for so-and-so and suddenly you're off on some tangent that will, inevitably, lead you back to the table.

Since Sunday afternoon, when I started it, this book has been my late night dessert each evening. Not only have I loved curling up in my bed just before I go to sleep, to drool over the recipes and stories Molly tells, I have loved making time in my schedule to read. It has been too long, but it is such a treat.

I loved it. And I may just gain 200 pounds from trying all of the recipes. Although, to Molly's credit, there are enough salads in that book to balance out the butter, chocolate, and whipped cream that fill the rest of the pages.

So thanks, Molly, for confirming that a life centered around the kitchen is perfectly balanced. And that real life fairy tales actually begin with chocolate cake instead of poison apples.

career addendum

Okay, I love writing.

And copywriting.

Really, I do.

The fact that my future career will include sitting in an office full of interesting people and coming up with ideas is so exciting to me. Who else gets to watch random Youtube Videos, surf Twitter, and scribble in a notebook all day and call it work?

I can't wait for the late nights coupled with cartons of orange chicken and fried rice, rushed deadlines, last minute changes, rejections and redos, brain frustration, pages and pages of words reduced to one line, and finally, the success of knowing we nailed it.

I am also realizing how much I love reading, eating and writing about food.

So I'm trying to figure out how I could combine those two passions of mine into something that can support that orange chicken addiction, or the fact that I really, really stink at scrimping on grocery bills.

And this would, naturally, be the part where I tell you that I discovered a fantastic career option and have decided to become a _____. However, the point of writing all this was that I have no idea what sort of combination of copywriting and cooking would actually suit me.

Ideas?

music to my soul

{This is the song that made me fall in love with Carbon Leaf}

My relationship with music can be pretty random.

There are some days where I'll listen to the same song 10 times in a row, and other days where my mix will be nothing short of Ella Fitzgerald, the Les Miserables soundtrack and Hanson.

I've never been someone who defines themselves by the music they listen to. I don't know everything about classic rock, or have 40 hours of orchestral music on my iPod, and I don't only listen to bands that no one has heard of.

But I love the Joshua Tree album, anything by Frank Sinatra, the Chopin nocturnes (thank you, parents), and a few bands that no one I know seems to be familiar with.

Carbon Leaf, Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, and Jon McLaughlin are the musical men that I've had pretty long term relationships with, stereo speaking. I don't listen to them every day, but I've never played one of their songs and not fallen in love with them all over again.

I saw Carbon Leaf in concert last summer at one of my favorite little concert venues, literally an old garage turned hipster scene. It was incredible. I don't know what it is about their music, but it hits me right in the soul. It's like coming home.

SK and the Sixers has some kind of drawl, but they aren't really country, and their music doesn't make me want to dance, but it makes me love my life a little bit more.

In 2008, when I saw Sara Bareilles in concert, I found out later that she'd been touring with Jon, but not when I saw her. Jon McLaughlin's music is like a breath of much needed fresh air. It's like a weekend in the country, when you've been stuck at the office all week, smothered in city smog and subway steel. (Not that I've actually had that experience, but I'm pretty sure if I had, Jon's music is the sort of thing that would keep me sane.)

They are like old friends that, even when we haven't talked in a few months or years, when we bump into each other and decide to grab lunch, after five minutes, it's like we're back in high school and we never lost touch.

Relay for Life 2011

Everyone knows someone who is/has been/will be affected by cancer. It's an awful disease that both takes lives and produces survivors.

We can't hide from it. We can't stop fighting to find out more about it and figure out how to beat it.

A few friends and I made a Relay for Life team (our event is this Friday-Saturday) and we're trying raise money for the cause. Here is a website we've set up to make online donations simple and safe for those who want to help!

All of the money raised goes to the American Cancer Society to fight the battle against cancer. This is a great opportunity to remember those who have passed away from cancer, those who have beat it and those who are still fighting!

Even the smallest donations add up, so if you can even spare 5 bucks, we welcome it!

Thank you so much!

miracles

"23And these three men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, fell down bound into the midst of the burning fiery furnace.

...

25He answered and said, Lo, I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire, and they have no ^ahurt; and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God.

26¶Then Nebuchadnezzar came near to the mouth of the burning fiery furnace, and spake, and said, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, ye servants of the most high God, come forth, and come hither. Then Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, came forth of the midst of the fire.

27And the princes, governors, and captains, and the king’s counsellors, being gathered together, saw these men, upon whose bodies the ^afire had no power, nor was an hair of their head singed, neither were their coats ^bchanged, nor the smell of fire had passed on them.

28Then Nebuchadnezzar spake, and said, Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, who hath sent his ^aangel, and delivered his servants that ^btrusted in him, and ^chave changed the king’s word, and yielded their bodies, that they might not serve nor worship any god, except their own God."

Daniel 3:23-28

I've always been amazed by this story. It would have been so incredible to witness this miracle and see the men in the furnace emerge unscathed.

But it also makes me think of the story of Abinadi. I'm sure he was just as faithful and devoted to God as Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego, but he was not saved from his fire.

Anyway, that made me think about trials I've experienced and the trials I've witnessed others struggle with, and how sometimes the Lord chooses to take away the pain, and sometimes he lets us experience it.

But I think that is because we all learn and grow in different ways. Sometimes our faith grows by witnessing a miracle, and sometimes the miracle is that even after the tough times, we can still believe. He knows us and He knows not only what we need, but how we need it.

And I am so grateful for that.

Good Morning Green

"Green (or rather, purple) smoothies" in the morning may just be my new favorite thing.

I'll admit, I was a surefire skeptic at first. But I'm getting better at making them like anything but spinach. The one I made this morning was my favorite so far:

• big handful of spinach
• spoonful of whole flax seeds
• unsweetened almond milk
• mixed berries (black, blue and raspberries)
• two heaping spoonfuls of honey greek yogurt

I blended it until it was a creamy lavender whipped mess and it was the perfect breakfast.

Good food can be good for you.

"The most terrible battles leave some places untouched, protected, despite being surrounded by fire."

How perfectly convenient that, yesterday, as I was waiting for the timer on the chocolate chip cookies to go off, I curled up in an armchair in our parlor* to get sucked into the first part of Suite Francaise, "Storm in June," while outside drops of rain as big as marbles fell all along the ground, and thunder shook the walls of this antique house.

My parents gave me this book for Christmas and I am finally getting around to reading it. It was actually the bit on the back of the book about the author, not the plot synopsis that caught my interest originally:

"When Irene Nemirovsky began working on Suite Francaise, she was already a highly successful writer living in Paris. But she was also a Jew, and in 1942 she was arrested and deported to Auschwitz, where she died. For sixty-four years, this novel remained hidden and unknown."

I really like the book so far. I am always so inspired by stories of ordinary people and the things that happen to them.

This part especially struck me:

"In all her life the woman had probably never said anything but ordinary things, like 'the leeks are getting bigger' or 'who's the dirty pig who got my floor all muddy?'...What are we in people's eyes, Maurice and I, other than two miserable employees? It's true in a way, but in another way, we are precious and unique. I know that too...All they could do was to keep walking and place themselves in the hands of God."

image via this

*so named by my landlords.

In case you were wondering,

Love-to-be:

I don't believe in diet fads, 1200 calories a day, or ever being too shy to wear a swimsuit in the summer.

I don't believe in stuffing lunchboxes with twinkies, fruit by the foot, or gushers.

I don't believe in going into debt to buy a house bigger than we need, or a car we can't afford.

I don't believe in going to bed angry.

I do believe in eating well, and the way a kitchen makes a home.

I believe in apple slices and peanut butter, homemade chocolate chip cookies and turkey sandwiches on thick whole wheat bread.

I believe in saving pennies and doing without, but also rewarding ourselves for our hard work.

I believe in taking a plate of brownies to new neighbors and smiling at the mailman.

I believe in little league, ballet classes and parking lot pickup basketball games.

I believe in "goodbye"s closely followed by "I love you"s.

And don't worry, I believe in road trips with greasy fingers from french fries, and Happy Meal toys for the kids, and frozen pizza for lazy Friday nights (or Saturday morning breakfasts), and buying girl scout cookies from the 10 year old down the street and chocolate any time of day, and buying just about anything little kids sell at a roadside stand.

image via vi.sualize.us

Confessions of a cosmetically-challenged 22 year old

Okay, I'm not a tomboy.

But still, when I walk down every aisle of the makeup section, I'm a little in awe at all the powders, creams, compacts, tubes, and wonder how I managed to go almost 23 years without actually knowing how to apply eyeshadow or eyeliner to my top lashes.

Or figuring out which shade of lipstick flatters my features.

I grew up playing with my mom's makeup, dolling my face up for dance recitals and sneaking fuchsia Wet N' Wild lipstick in my 3rd grade backpack, but somehow got lost in between the month where I didn't where makeup at all and the stage makeup that, well, only looks good on stage.

But apparently my beauty regimen is pretty basic, and apparently that means I need a little help in the "big girl" makeup department (aka the kind you buy at the counter, not the register)

Today, I went in search of a new shade of lipstick. The one that I dab just a bit of on my lips in the morning is nice, but I've had it for years and I'm pretty sure it came from one of those free gifts you get when you (or, in my case, my mother) purchase some Lancome mascara or Benefit blush.

Anyway, I perused all the basic drugstore brands' selections of lip tints, glosses, and sticks, so wanting to be the girl who could pull off "fire," but realizing that "rose petal" probably better suits my complexion. And I remembered that one time 8 years ago when my mom pulled out her seasonal color analysis book and we tried to figure out if I was a summer or a winter, and I couldn't remember if I had a warm or a cool undertone.

And after disregarding that momentary stress, I grabbed a tube called "cherries in the snow," threw it in my basket and hoped that it wouldn't make me look like a clown.

And, you know, I tried it on tonight, and I think it just might work.

image via google

ps: I can tell you, that my mom bought me some Nars blush over Christmas (with a color title that makes my cheeks flush) from Sephora and I absolutely love it. I may be hooked.

Virginia

There is something deep inside my soul that pulls me to Virginia.

And I have no idea why.

I have only been there once, with my sister to visit her then boyfriend who was a grad. student at UVA, but I remember the smell and the heat of summer, and the rain. And the heat in the rain in the summer.

And maybe it's just another facet of my love affair with southern life or my not-so-hidden desire to be the next Paula Deen.

But of all the places I may end up, 20 years from now, with a little family and an old house and a life that I love, I think I could be very happy in a smallish town in Virginia.

But that is really all I know right now.

the unposted

83.

That is the number of drafts I have for this blog.

Some of them are unfinished, some of them are just a title, and some of them are nothing more than a few words to prompt a future thought.

But a few of them, are polished and perfect and maybe a bit too personal.

These are the things I will never publish,

at least not in this space.

The words that aren't vague enough to camouflage their true subjects.

The melancholy memories that creep up on me, even after I've long since put them to rest.

There are times when I'm tempted to give myself a new identity and create a fresh dashboard with no attachment to my name, just for the sake of posting these thoughts that are maybe too much for this blog.

But, the thing is, there is a a very fine line between the things I'll never say, and the thoughts I ache to be read.

For now, it is enough to keep them tucked away in that folder, crossing my fingers that I don't accidentally release them to an unsuspecting audience (it would not be the first time). Perhaps, a boy who may stumble upon this little space, by chance.

And I read them. Sometimes over and over. I remember how and who I was when I wrote these words.

And, like a lot of things, it's a bit sweeter because no one else gets to know.

we won't be leaving by the same road that we came by*

{I found this in my "Drafts" folder today, and I can't quite remember what prompted me to write it, which must mean it's safe now to post, right?}

And we won't be the same people when we leave either.
Because the rocks and the ridges in the road shape the pattern of our footprints.

And because we grow up, and we grow together, and we grow wiser.

So that we realize there are things about the person we used to be that we'd prefer to leave in the past.

We leave those pieces of us for the journal entries and the photo albums, tucked away to remember, but also to forget.

Like a mental list of who not to be.

It's good to remember, because it allows us to see how far we've come.

But it's better to forget, because then we can finally be free.

*Keane, you have been my muse for the past two and a half weeks. So thanks for that.

foodie

If I knew as a child how much I would love to cook as a college student, I probably would have taken more advantage of my mom's kitchen smarts.

I can think of all those time she tried to teach my sister and I how to cook and we had zero desire to learn.
I guess some things you just have to learn out of necessity.

Somehow, when people ask me what I like to do, I never know what to say.

I mean,
I've done dance my whole life, so I guess that's one.
Like almost anyone, I love watching movies and going to concerts.
I like to write.
I like to read.
And, I guess, I love to cook.

And I like a whole lot of other things, but for some reason, they all slip my mind when people bring up "hobbies."

Today, Kellie and I made a peanut butter cheesecake and ended up with extra filling, so we made some chocolate brownies and marbled the batter on top...and still had some extra filling, so we're going to make some yummy cheesecake bites. I swear, this is like the neverending fountain of cheesecake.

Sundays are the best.


This is the brownie recipe we used. We haven't tried it yet, but i'm sure it's divine.

All is well

So glad I finally finished the series. In 4 weeks, I read books 5-7 (the 7th at about 10:15 last night), watched movies 1-4, 5 and 7.1, and remembered that I love to read.

And I love magic.

Thanks for reminding us that, in the end, good will always triumph.

image via