last night dahlia had her memorial day cookout get together, and i brought the boy, but other than him it was mostly people we’d gone to high school with. dahlia’s pitbull was there, and tom brought two of his dogs, and this precious little puppy was one of them. not so little actually, he’s only fourteen weeks but he’s fairly massive (any bigger and i wouldn’t’ve been able to pick him up) but he is just the prettiest dog. he was so riled up with the other two dogs there, avetti would play wrestle with him and he was SO into it, the german shepherd was a little older and mostly concerned about where tom was all the time.
i want my own dog to snuggle with, to follow me around and miss me when i’m out of sight. i want a dog that’ll know when i’m upset, that will be my off-leash hiking buddy, that i can sleep on like a pillow. it’s weird and unsettling not having a pet, i’ve had one almost all my life, and i’m so looking forward to living in a place where that’s a possibility.
people are difficult, families are difficult, mothers and fathers are difficult, kids are difficult (daughters are really difficult), brothers are difficult. divorces are difficult. step-people are difficult. boyfriends and girlfriends are difficult. uncles and grandparents? eh, not super difficult (mostly).
stubbornness running in the family is excruciatingly difficult.
i always hear “speed will come.” what if speed comes, but distance doesn’t? it happens regularly - i’ll go on a two mile run and come back proud of my time, the next day i’ll give up a mile and a half into a slow three and a half mile run. maybe i’m not cut out for distance, maybe I’m a two-mile kind of runner. eight months ago I would’ve half-joked that I was a two-second runner, and that’s certainly not true anymore, but good grief. i have high standards for myself, for what i can do and achieve, but maybe my standards are surpassing what my body is supposed to do. maybe what i need to do is put a hold on all my big plans - the training programs i’ve found, the summer goals i’ve set for myself, the desire to keep up with my guy friends’ crazy 7:30 pace, no way - and let my body do what it wants. and usually it wants to run short distances fast. so screw it. when i feel comfortable with two miles, when i’m happy with my speed (trying to not let that be never), i’ll start to tack on slowly. no adding half miles at a time. no beating myself up. just two miles, again and again, nice and fast. or not - we’ll see how i feel :)
sometimes i worry i’ve typed a totally inappropriate word into a powerpoint or offer letter or email and then forgotten about it. like someone will be giving a presentation that i’ve edited and i just KNOW they’re going to click to the next slide and all it will say in big calibri letters is “ASS” and my face will go completely red and everyone will know it’s my fault and hate me for it.
the farm the farm the farm! the first time i went was four (how?) years ago. we - erika, lauren, daniel, and i - drove up one weekend, abandoned springtime boone for a couple days, and played grownup. the four of us had control of an entire house for an entire weekend - and we learned the importance of space heaters and ovens and improvising and maybe not making yam fries if you don’t know how. also notable: chick flicks, skulls, a covey of covetous quails, david sedaris. it was amazing.
one of my faves. thanks daniel for the rad photography skillz.
and then i went again, and this time it was sarah, daniel, me, and the whole gleason crew, and it was summer, and it was warm enough to stand in the river in our bathing suits. the dogs came too, three of them. we made a firepit with rocks we found on the property, did a puzzle, drank mike’s hard lemonades, and explored more of selma (hi cute tea-and-scone shop! hi irish paraphernalia store where sarah told us she was going to be an aunt! hi scary guy in the art gallery! hi!). the farm was lovely, again and again.
so, so much love.
i’m so excited for the adventures the four of us will have this year - all of us! lauren, sarah, erika, and me! all four of us together! our plans aren’t set, but i know the weekend will involve nutella and laughing until we cry and sitting on the kitchen floor, and honestly, i don’t need anything more than that.
ps - little shout out to erika here - death cab for cute came out with their codes and keys album, and when i listened to it the first time and arrived at “monday morning,” it was like ben gibbard had met erika and promptly sad down and wrote a song about her. and the setting is (obviously, always) the farm.
- Checking the mail
- Taking out the recycling
- Just watching one episode of Gilmore Girls
- Curling my hair
- Straightening my hair
- Ever cleaning clothes that can’t go in my washing machine
- Checking voicemails
- Knowing what to do with important documents
- Shaping my eye brows
- Not eating right before bed
that’s because these are the hardest things! hand washing or taking stuff to the dry cleaners what? how does one eyebrows? recycling is something my roommates just have to deal with me insisting on and then never actually doing (this has not gotten better post-camelot).