seventeen.

if i ever start to forget what true, unadulterated happiness is, all i have to do is look at my dogs. after a week of constant rain, wind, and general inhospitable-ness, my three girls and i were all stir-crazy and ready for some much needed time outdoors. when the sun peeked its bright head out of the clouds this morning, i donned my running shoes and quickly sprinted my way across town and back so i would have enough time to run the girls before we lost our little patch of sunshine. this was the result:

they were so blissfully happy to be outside and playing!

sophie kept smiling at me with her long, goofy tongue hanging out.

then she got mad at me for taking too long to throw the ball while i tried to take her picture. she was jumping straight up and down on her hind legs trying to get my attention, as if to say "geeez, mom, play with me!"

happiness is playing ball with my girls. it is also the way it smells after it rains. happiness is waking up early so my five a.m. meets your eight a.m. and happiness is a cup of tea in bed. it is that little patch of sunshine, but it can also be the storm that preceded it. happiness is knowing my life is filled with the most wonderful, kind-hearted friends. but most of all, today, happiness just is.

sixteen.

and at precisely 12:06am, as i cricketed my tired legs together for warmth under my blankets and sheets and listened to the storm howl outside, it hit me as discreetly as a freight train barreling down the tracks that my mind had, without question, kicked back in on this monumentally gloomy, wincing, mournful day. oh shit, what have i done?

my mind made its reappearance with a smirk, taunting, "as if you could ever forget me". i tried carefully to make a case for my now racing heart, but unsurprisingly, it's pounding rhythm failed to drown the chorus line of thoughts now berating me.

it's true, hearts make us impetuous. by design, they cannot wait, as each second, each beat, is a reminder that our mortality draws nearer. my heart has been making me impatient, as though it knows its beats are (and have forever been) numbered. "lub-dub i'mrunningoutoftime lub-dub makethisonecount lub-dub". maybe that's why we take comfort in laying our heads on lovers' chests to listen--- between the opening and closing of valves we can hope to boldly hear those otherwise reticent messages of love and desire slip impatiently through.

so herein lies the dilemma- my telltale heart knows no speed but full-speed ahead while my mind is a complex system of gears and pulleys equivalent to that of a 937-speed bike, on which, as one would imagine, it is damn-near impossible to properly regulate one's speed. i guess i'll be leaving this one to the great moderator: sleep, and i'm quite sure i'll wake up tomorrow going exactly the speed i should be going.

fifteen.

inspiration on a grey and rainy day...

occasionally i find something that makes every girlie fiber in my being squeal "ooh!". the above picture, from Crown & Crumpet in San Francisco, is such a thing. ooh!
today, i was listening to the rain pelt the windows in my room and started thinking, as one should on such a day, about afternoon tea. in london this past summer, travis, curtis, and i truly indulged ourselves. sure, Fortnum & Mason, the Parlour at Sketch, and the Connaught are seemingly a world away, but Crown & Crumpet is relatively near, so with color-pop to go gahgah over, a fairly note-worthy selection of teas, and of course scones and clotted cream, i do say i shall be make an appearance there in the very near future.
as far away from domestication as i am, i still can't help but swoon over elegantly eclectic home decor. i do envy my dear friend christina, who has excellent taste and is embarking on the nesting process where her visions of color and texture and homeyness are quickly becoming a reality. a whole house to make your very own?! really?! so. much. fun. (and i'm sure a complete overwhelming nightmare at times, but hang in there, girlie)
so, for the sake of swooning away from the gray and into the brightness, these are the things i'm ooh!-ing over today. although they are as close to my reality as i am to london right now, the indulgence is, nonetheless, as delicious and sweet as afternoon tea...

fourteen.

it's been storming to beat the band, and something about the way the wind whips around my room has been keeping my up with pen to paper nearly every night this past week. so easily i slip into my alter-ego, the one who falls asleep with ink stained hands, snuggling close to notebooks and paper tablets, and who wears dark rimmed glasses (despite my perfect vision) just to have a disguise to hide behind. tea mugs line my dresser and my bed hasn't been made for days. there has been time to ruminate. ...uh oh, i fear we're getting philosophical here... no, these are not erudite or sapient musings of a brilliant mind, but none the less, here we go.

life, if nothing else, is undoubtedly about connections. this seems basal enough, in fact i'm kicking myself for the use of such a cliche, yet every few years something happens that reminds me i've all but forgotten this simple truism, and remembering it seems to hit me like being whacked upside the head with a proverbial "duh". the ties that bind us strongly to one another in this crazy spinning world are the only things we can depend on to keep us from flinging off into the abyss, to keep us grounded, to keep us alive.

i know i'm blessed- my connections are strong. my "soul mates", as i call them, make everything make sense. they are undeniably indicators (if not constant reminders) of what LIFE is. although it's a rare thing, the effortlessness at which truly extraordinary people have made their way into my reality and under my skin always remains so distinct and poignant in my mind. it's these moments that make us, and i'd even venture to say they are the signposts on this road of life--- i would be so lost without those instances where i just knew, unequivocally, that embarking on a relationship with that certain person was integral in living a fulfilled life.

i seem to remember these moments with a kind of mental acuity that is rare for me, as my memories lately have been as hazy as the weather. in these instances though, i always feel like the world shifts off-kilter ever so slightly and leaves me stumbling to re-plant my feet in balance. i think this in itself is what adds to the potency of the memory- as though an acute sense of disorientation in reality somehow breeds a forever firmly affixed memory. i covet these memories in my mind as one might snippets of newspaper or photographs in a scrapbook- they are the things i'd hold most dearly, for reliving them is a breathtaking reminder that, oh yes, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not, the universe most assuredly has a plan.

i know the significance of any such memory to anyone other than me would fail to be conveyed in its recounting...... laughing at ourselves til we couldn't breathe over spit contests in the lakehouse bathroom as little girls, playing snake on our phones and gel-penning our favorite vans sneakers after school, the very real jolt of energy that coursed through my being when you kissed my forearms that night northbound on the 5, when you cried with me after practice and then bought me a candybar to make it better, reaching back into the crowd for your hand at that concert of our favorite musician, knowing we must share dna when you told me with such conviction that "that. was. real.", the first moment we locked eyes when you walked through the door at our friend's house that summer evening..... i guard these moments as though they are the very fibers that make me, because afterall, they are.

lately life has given me exactly what i didn't know i needed right exactly when i needed it. effortlessly, things just are. and that is exactly how they should be. without asking, someone enters your life that can see straight through all your silly facades and whose friendship has no choice but to take root. before you can open your mouth to object, someone will love you so fiercely it makes you stumble over words and tremble to your core for fear that this might just be enough. these are reminders that the path you never chose has chosen you.

so, sure, i can go about toting that i've "cut myself free" of so many obligations, but the fact of the matter is this: i am (and always will be) inextricably and firmly affixed to you, my dear soul mates. there is no quota, my heart knows no boundary of "we're full-up here", and life has a funny way of tying the tightest ties when i'm wanting or expecting them least. so, thanks, for being unexpected, for throwing me off kilter, for reminding me to live my life, for keeping me from flinging off into the abyss, and for making me.

(and in the likely case i lost you awhile ago, in sum, just see this at around the 25sec mark)

thirteen.

i'm scathing, writhing, fuming, ouching right now. there is something rotten in the state of denmark, and it's your piss poor communication skills. say what you mean, mean what you say, and be accountable for it all. it's not difficult, yet it's a seemingly impossible task for so many of us. how did we get here?

i grew up in a household where what wasn't said was the most deafeningly loud thing in my life. to this day, my father can clear his throat in a certain way and i will break into a cold sweat as my brain races to figure out what i've done wrong. as for my mom and all the martin women, we can hold a grudge and give silent treatment with the comfort level to the targeted victim comparable to that of being waterboarded or having your fingernails slowly pulled off one at a time. if you think this is a gross exaggeration, you are most certainly not one of my uncles nor have you been around any of us when a) we are hungry or b) you fucked up. generally, the accepted school of thought is the: "i'm upset with you, so without a word i'm gonna make damn sure you know i'm upset AND i'm going to require that you not only figure out WHY i'm upset but also HOW to make it better. and lord help you if you think an 'i'm sorry' is going to cut it!"

then there are these kids that i grew up with (living life like it's going outta style). these are there are my friends, this is who they have been for always. they are extraordinary human beings without whom i would not have lasted one single day of my high school years in a suburban town. our hearts tick in beat with one another and more often than not, we talk in complete code and song lyrics (catch the 4 in this paragraph?) where everything said verbally is a stand in for the real conversation. it's more than talking in code, it's an inside joke taken to the umpteenth level: it's an inside language. i often imagine that getting the gist of just a single of our lunchtime conversations would have required subtitles for any outsider- the words passing our lips were very rarely related to the meaning of what was really being said. and the best part? we all understood.

but, alas, language exists because the majority of the world can't interpret the intimate jargon of a select group of dear friends or easily figure out precisely why my aunties and cousins are giving that deathstare. i wouldn't have made it very far with this majority (and thus wouldn't have made it very far in this world) because i had grown up miscommunicating. and i didn't have any idea. until i met travis.

i owe all, yes all, my healthy, present day communication skills to travis. he and i, by pure happenstance, fell effortlessly and instantly into being the most inseparable, best of friends. to this day, i am never ceased to be amazed by the realness, depth, and genuineness of our conversations. i started college with a very false, yet very settled security in how i interacted with others, and i will never forget that after "opening up" about myself in one of our first (of many) dinner discussions, travis so eloquently called complete bullshit on everything i had just said. "you have a huge wall built around you," he told me, and he was right "so can you just tell me what you're really trying to say?". that was one one of the most "naked" moments of my entire life. all the bad habits i had accumulated to manipulate the world around me and to hide my fallibility would have to go. it took time. it's still a conscious effort. but i've found that making the effort to say what actually needs to be expressed is one of the most rewarding, healthy, uncomplicating things i could ever do for my life.

i believe in honesty. i believe in putting myself out there, despite how vulnerable it makes me to know there is no guarantee what i am trying to convey will be received well, properly, or even at all. and trust me, on days like today when boldly saying what i needed to say causes a shitstorm more strife than had i just kept my big mouth shut, it's really hard to not lay those old bricks and start reconstructing that wall. you see, whoever said "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" was a big fat fibber and i'd go as far to say was questionably human.

sometimes, words. do. hurt. and that's ok, because today i learned that they can un-hurt too. a lousy, loathsome misplaced sentiment can bore its way deep under your skin, making you "scathe, writhe, fume, ouch", and then a gleaming glimmer of honesty and truth can swoop in and rescue you.

communication is king. it is "a lonely world when that's deficient/missing". but going to bed with knowledge that between me and those i love most it will never be a lonely world, especially not tonight, is pretty damn awesome.

twelve.

(no so)goodmorning. woke up at 4 a.m. in a cold sweat, blankets tangled, out of breath. something just wasn't right.

turned on my computer and learned about the earthquake/tsunamis in japan. my mind went instantly to my cousin, who lives on japan's west coast with his wife and two babies. phonelines and internet seem to be overloaded/impassible at this point, so we're still waiting to hear. it sends sickly shivers down my spine, and with the rest of my family and most my dear friends living in coastal california, i won't be breathing easy until this has passed. sending my thoughts and positive energy to anyone who is playing this waiting game right now and to everyone whose life if affected by this. what a crazy world we live in.

i've been glued to cnn and various other news sources all morning. i always find it interesting how flustered newspeople get when reporting live, breaking news. it always confirms just how human and vulnerable we all are and how important carefully chosen words can be. i can tell you just how much comfort there is in having someone to simply communicate with at 4 a.m. when the restless, anxious mind reels--- even when that conversation is about spidey sense and sharks... i am grateful.

there is also comfort in breakfast. i am passionate about food. this morning i needed some feel-good yumminess, so i made pancakes. and they were good.

Surprisingly Tasty, Gluten-free, Vegan Pancakes

• 1-1/3 cups gluten free all purpose baking flour
• 1 t baking powder
• 1/2 t salt
• 1/2 t baking soda
• 1 T honey
• 1/2 t vanilla
• 3 T vegetable oil
• 3/4 cup + 2 T warm water
• 1/2 t xanthum gum

combine flour, baking soda, salt, and baking powder in bowl. combine honey, vanilla, and 2 T oil in a bowl. combine wet and dry ingredients. in a small bowl, mix xanthum gum, remaining 1T oil, and 2T water; fold into batter. cook like normal pancakes and enjoy. makes about six 6" pancakes.

eleven.

one of the many cathartic effects of my most recent major life purge has been remembering i'm a girl.

i hadn't forgotten per se, but basically living with/surrounded by boysboysboys for the past five years lent itself to a certain level of apathy when it came to the more aesthetically delicate things in life. so, when i packed up my car and drove myself and every physical possession i own away from los angeles and to my peaceful upstairs bedroom in northern california, i made damn sure to unpack everything just so. i daresay i've even made myself a little girlie oasis...

let me preface the rest of this post by being completely forthright about who i am--- i am the girl who can pack for 12 weeks of international travel on three continents with a marginally filled carry-on bag. i am all about minimalizing my belongings to only necessities, and i am proud of the fact that i know my home will never be anywhere/anything materially tangible. with that said, i am a girl, and a guilty pleasure of mine the past five testosterone-charged years has been the hours i've spent oogling home decor blogs and mentally dog-earring the pretty little things i see in magazines or the homes of my girlfriends.

i have a serious weakness for domestication (much more on this in the near future, i'm sure). it makes the highly-educated, outdoors-y, low-maintenance parts of me cringe and hiss "for shame!", but i can't deny that i am currently reveling in the fact that there are more pillows on my bed than fingers on my hands, that i take joy in keeping fresh flowers in my room, or that my closet is organized by sleeve-length, hem-length, heel-height, and season... simultaneously.

so, welcome to my current "home". i think i might just stay awhile.

a. b.
c. d.

e.
f.

a. my massive bed, on which approximately 1/8 gets slept. when i sleep, i stack all the pillows around me like a papoose... or a lover. it's unbelievably comfy.
b. my sole reason for keeping the shades drawn as the day winds down
c. step into my office, baby. postcards from every continent except antarctica
d. i love this mirror. i salvaged it from the war field that is our garage post-combining households and begged for help to have it hung for a three years before it finally became an excellent addition to the space.
e. allllllll my favorite things in one picture. if i could draw an explanatory diagram of arrows and labels to each item, the descriptions would simply be pictures of my heart.
f. closet space. i've been known to hang out in there recently. it's just that awesome. the parisian art is actually an impromptu way of keeping the UVs from bleaching my clothes (learned this the hard way) but i rather like it.

ten.

the world is not black and white.
we live in perpetual states of moving/changing/growing/shifting/writhing shades of gray. i know this better than most, as i am the daughter of quite possibly the two most "black and white" people you'll ever encounter. with my first two teachers in this world being the type of decisive, exacting, stubbornly sagacious people they are, it should come as no surprise that, with the world being as beautifully incongruous as it is, i would turn out unequivocally gray.

i'm so gray in fact, that my mind warbled for a good five minutes over the usage of "gray" vs. "grey" in this post. this is just one of the many internal dilemmas encountered on a moment to moment basis as i try to navigate the unnavigable territory of decision in this life. if you are one of those people who easily maneuvers over the simple conundrums of daily living (i.e. never getting frustratingly stuck on the "what do i feel like for dinner?"s or "what should i do today?"s) then good for you. i envy you. because for me, it's just not that easy. but, oh is it a journey.

as humans, it is probably our most common mental process to discern between liking/disliking, admiring/abhorring, appreciating/repudiating the world around us. i mean, isn't this distinction the very basis of everything we do? aren't well all trying to fill our lives with things we "like", things that benefits us on some level, and minimize the things we "dislike", things that inconvenience us? of course there are things we hate-to-love and love-to-hate, but generally speaking, we are constant categorizers. it's biology, but that's a-whole-nother post. what i am getting at is this: i suck at this most basic categorization. i have a steadfast heart, but a fickle mind. my gray sees infinite loopholes and refuses to let me pigeonhole myself by settling a concrete judgment on, well, just about anything.

and here's the kicker: i'm not one for stagnancy. i need to keep moving (on all levels) to stay and feel alive. actually, that doesn't even cover it, the more appropriate description is this: i need my proverbial butt kicked on a regular basis to feel alive. when i feel that brackish, stifling immobility coming, i know i've gotta act fast. i've got plenty of tricks up my masochistic sleeve, but one of the more torturous ones is taking a step out of the gray and into decisiveness. oh bother.

erica, my carboncopy and dear friend who has quite regularly kicked my aforementioned proverbial butt since we were nine years old, and i have a game. it's wildly ambitious if you are anything like me, and hence it's only valid about every two years or so when i can muster the courage. we makes two lists each, one of "things i like" and the other of "things i dislike". i recently took on making lists of 50, which, let me tell you, was not for the faint of heart.

okok, i get it, it's just a silly list. but for me, it's a lesson in my own strength. it's about leaning into that discomfort that arises when a gray girl is forced to confirm that indeed maybe there are things that are black and white in this world. and the best thing? it always takes at least twice as long for me to think of things i can't stand.
as long as my "likes" come more easily than my "dislikes", i think i'm alright, because despite the gray, we live in a very very very bright world.

nine.

i am loving this "be stupid" campaign. embracing it fully, and realizing that that is the smartest thing i could possibly do.

eight.

i'm living on all heart these days.

this should be surprising. it is surprising, in fact, it's downright remarkable. you see, i am the queen of living in my head. i can logic myself in or out of any situation, convince myself that my gut and emotions are silly incantations of a society that praises cheap tricks and cliches as beauty and romance. i'm great at outsmarting/outplaying/outwitting even myself. i'm an assassin.

just not today. not lately. i'm all heart, no head. no defenses. and i'm okay with that.

i woke up smiling, i woke up to you. watched the snow fall outside, tiny wisps of it coming in through the cracked window. it couldn't touch the warmth of that moment. nothing could.

how long has it been since i let myself get completely lost in a moment like that? where my brain wasn't racing a million miles per hour? where i wasn't planning my next move like a cheap game of chess and my words were pre-formed before they passed my lips?

when you asked me if my biggest fear this week was once i'd left you'd disappear, i couldn't answer. this was not my biggest fear. my biggest fear was that my brain would kick back in and i'd walk away from you, not the other way around. i'd not being naive about where we are or who we are or where we're going. i just know that for one moment like that, where my heart is drunk on bliss, no matter what happens, it will all have been worth it.