bird by bird

“When you meet a man in the doorway of a Mexican restaurant who later kisses you while explaining that this kiss doesn’t “mean anything” because, much as he likes you, he is not interested in having a relationship with you or anyone right now, just laugh and kiss him back. Your daughter will have his sense of humor. Your son will have his eyes.” ― Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar

This video is long, but it's everything. We have time. We're ok.  We're good this way too.

In an effort to focus less on the thorns of life and more on the blossoms, I'm going to take inventory on all the things that I have to be grateful for. I'm in such a rut, and this is me giving myself a crab-ervention. I have get it together. My life actually rulz. Eff the thorns These are my blossoms: I have two big windows in my bedroom with a view of Brooklyn backyards and giant maple trees. I fall asleep to stars and wake to the sun. This blog lets me blow of steam and save and share little nuggets of beauty, wisdom, and humor. It gives me a voice when I feel like no one really hears me. I don't have any lethal allergies or terminal illnesses, and all my limbs are exactly where they are supposed to be. Riding my bike makes me feel free. GG and I collaborate on a monthly Spotify playlist that gives me a fresh start and soundtrack to each month. This makes my commute/life significantly better. I was raised by a mother a...

This morning I thought I heard my bus coming so I sprinted half of a block in a dress and heels to catch it in time. Once I got to my stop, I realized that what I heard was a garbage truck, not my bus. I looked like such a fool. If this isn't a perfect metaphor for dating in NYC, I don't know what is.

 Gov't Mule at Sioux Falls Jazz Festival Sioux Falls, SD Saturday, July 19th   Montgomery Gentry at Casino Speedway Watertown, SD Friday, July 25th  Wildbone and Hubby Jenkins at Jalopy Tavern Red Hook, BK Saturday, August 2nd

"So I know I am right not to settle, but it doesn’t make me feel better as my friends pair off and I stay home on Friday night with a bottle of wine and make myself an extravagant meal and tell myself, This is perfect , as if I’m the one dating me. As I go to endless rounds of parties and bar nights, perfumed and sprayed and hopeful, rotating myself around the room like some dubious dessert. I go on dates with men who are nice and good-looking and smart – perfect-on-paper men who make me feel like I’m in a foreign land, trying to explain myself, trying to make myself known. Because isn’t that the point of every relationship: to be known by someone else, to be understood? He gets me. She gets me. Isn’t that the simple magic phrase? So you suffer through the night with the perfect-on-paper man – the stutter of jokes misunderstood, the witty remarks lobbed and missed. Or maybe he understands that you’ve made a witty remark but, unsure of what to do with it, he holds...

Things I don't care about: Whether or not my socks match Clearing the remainder time on the microwave clock Germs on the fruit I buy off fruit carts Squeezing toothpaste out in an efficient way Anything related to the Kardashians Things I do care about: The avoidance of comma splices (and general observation of all grammar rules) Creative emoji application Immediately clearing the red notification on the apps on my phone Clean sheets and a surplus of pillows Making space for people who make space for me

This was my first week back in NYC after a 9 day retreat in South Dakota. It was a hard week. The city felt too big, and my space felt too small. I felt insignificant in a way I haven't felt in a long time. Then slowly, so slowly little pieces of my city-self began to fall back into place. I really do love it here, and this video was a visual reminder of why. STREETS - NEW YORK CITY from Tim Sessler on Vimeo .

Sometimes life reminds me of the beauty of girlfriends, friends with long legs and short legs, blond hair and red hair, girls who live in New York City and girls who live in small towns in South Dakota. This tribe of mine, my girl gang, lifts me up on bad days the way that we did when we were young at sleepovers chanting "light as a feather, stiff as a board." When I feel like I'm drowning, they miraculously help keep me afloat. My gaggle of girls make up for the guys of this city who make me feel angry, insecure, and unlovable. My girls make me feel so lovable. This week I was so thankful for them, for my "stone cold pack of weirdos" that heard me out and loved me up.