kate...otherwise known as the Duchess of Cambridge

What better way to start a weekend than with a wedding? I didn't mean for this William'n Kate immersion to happen, but happen it did. What can I say? I'm a sucker for fairy tales. A commoner meets a prince, they're friends first, lovers second, and then there they go, down the aisle? yep, I love it. I watched a movie about them today at work, came home to see Yahoo buzzing with news, than was inundated with Kate this and that on my blog feeder. I must admit, I WAS curious about The Dress. And wow, it really was gorgeous. Folks, lace is always in. It's classic and oh so sexy. Kate Middleton looks like the neighbor next door - nice, fun, and pretty - and I hope today is the beginning of a lifetime of happiness for them.

<3

you're a goof and i'm a weirdo

I find that Drew and I are adopting each others weirdo habits (otherwise known as idiosyncrasies!). I’ll start a brand new conversation while we’re smack dab in the middle of another, perfectly good one. This leaves Drew out in left field, wondering what the heck is going on. I’m very good at that. After two years, four months, and fifteen something days later, he’s adjusted. He can actually follow this weird (and rude) shift of mine. And he’s actually done it to me (to ME!) before on occasion. It’s thrown me for a loop, because I’m not used to following a weird conversation shifter.

Apparently we both now say "actually" all the time. No idea who started that.

He cuddles with my pillow if I get up before he does in the morning...and drat, I find myself doing that now too.

I’ve caught myself saying his pet words or phrases and I’ve totally busted him for saying mine (of course, I can’t remember right now what those words are. They’ll come to me eventually, probably in the middle of dinner as we’re slathering whipped cream over our waffles or while we watch the special, hour-long episode of “The Office” tonight. But those words won’t come now, oh no sir they won't).

Looking at it right now, at 8:30 at night, I think this is cool. After all, who can possibly live with another human being without adopting at least SOME of their weirdness?

;)

shhhhh!

I've banished myself to the yard while Drew wraps my birthday presents (it was either that or wait until tonight. Who wants to wait?!). I'm a five-year-old when it comes to presents - I love being surprised, I love tearing open wrapping paper, and I love the excitement and wonder that presents inspire.

So I'm sitting at the picnic table, serenaded by bird song and revving engines, dying to know what my creative hubby is wrapping inside...

everyone knows that birthdays galore means the camera's OUT!

My family, well, the majority of us are spring babies. My mom was born on February 22nd, my brother fell on March 21st, Dad's on the 15th of April (which he'll proudly tell you is also the day the Titanic sank AND income tax day), my sister's the 17th, and I'm turning 26 on the 26th. ;) If you count my grandma in the mix (eh, why not?) than she rounds us out by celebrating her 88th birthday in May.

Apparently we're vacation babies, but don't tell anyone I said that.

So...this means that Drew and I have been eating a lot of cake recently. Did I mention that his brother Jeromy's birthday was on March 28th and that we'll be celebrating his mom's birthday on May 8th? Wowzers. In the midst of all these birthday shenanigans, my family plus a few welcome additions (Gintaras' girlfriend Margaret and Giedre's friend Gintas, who left the Appalachain Trail to be with us ;) celebrated Easter yesterday. Katrina and I slipped off into the backyard for a bit to take some pictures (she's been begging, I was game to practice...). These are my favorites.

good friday? yes, yes it is.

I dislike a mound of wrinkled laundry that wasn't folded immediately after coming out of the dryer. I sound like the worst kind of picky person, I know, but it's so true that if you fold while clothes are hot, ironing = nil. I spend Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday being wildly excited about my weekend, but when I finally get to Friday afternoon, I find myself disgruntled and prone to tears. Why is that? I wish April would slow down...stay awhile. It's my birthday month, darn it, and I'm sad that it's almost over.

Whew.

Got those nasty dislikes out of the way.

Say what you will, but I swear that an organized closet (or bedroom. or bathroom. or living room) de-stresses me like nothing else. If the clutter is gone, I'm ;-). I absolutely love fishing for a pesto cube and knowing that the doggone days of summer are right around the corner. This means that I will be making fresh pesto very soon (as wonderful as the frozen stuff is, fresh pesto is ninety-nine times better). My new plant makes me happy! It's a ficus, or "sunny fig" and the fact that is resembles a curly head of hair (albeit a green curly head of hair) brings a grin to my face. My birthday is right around the corner and even though I will be turning 26 on the 26th and couldn't visualize 26 possibly being better than 25 (odd numbers rock), I am (finally) convinced that 26 WILL be spectacular. So there.

p.s. A shout out to an awesome new online mag I stumbled upon earlier today at the blog of the wild and wily ways of a brunette bombshell (http://or-so-i-feel.blogspot.com). Check it out --> http://www.thevioletonline.com/  Their mantra (right on target!):

  

We Believe

In the simple life.

In knowing about what we eat.

In bright colors.

That it's really cool to blog.

In hot shoes.

In expressing our femininity.

That you don't have to be a Rockefeller to be a rockstar.

In love stories.

And in being the people that we're meant to be.

Stellar!

baby shoes

We talked about flash fiction today in class. It's an intriguing concept for the creative writer: fashion a very short, yet complete piece of fiction in the fewest amount of words possible (I don't think there's any "official" word limit, unless you're entering a contest or something. Just make sure that it's SHORT!).

Hemingway wrote what may be the shortest flash fiction ever.

"For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

Doesn't that send your mind spinning in a hundred different directions? Six words evoking such a poignant image.

du. dos. two.

I'm sitting here on the couch, avoiding the mess that is my apartment, and I had to share two things (only two, because then I go into cleaning frenzy mode).

1. The best thing about spring is that scent of newly cut grass floating in on every burst of wind. It just shouts "SPRING!" If it had a color, it would be chartreuse. I'd bottle it up if I could.

2. These lovely bursts of wind aren't COLD anymore, but cool, refreshing, and oh so nice. And to someone who has no AC in her 1900's era apartment, that is a wonderful thing. I keep feeling my hair fluttering and have turned around twice now, thinking I'll find an orange paw batting at my head, but no, it's the breeze.

Vino vino

It seems a little ironic that the year I decide to give up alcohol for Lent, we lug a perfectly splendid wine cabinet into our dining room. Drew and his dad built it for me and it's beautiful. There's a rack on the bottom that holds fifteen bottles of wine (FIFTEEN bottles of red wines, white wines, dessert wines, champagne!). So far there's only one bottle, but never fear, that will be more soon. The shelf in the center holds a few of our favorite cookbooks and bottles of liquor. And the top is just plain awesome. It imitates an old-fashioned desk, swinging open to reveal hanging glasses that clink softly after a passing breeze wafts by.

I realize that it is cruel & unusual to describe my wine cabinet but not put up a picture. I will! However, the cabinet looks pretty in the fading sunlight of a spring evening, so I thought I'd simply go with the written description. Can you picture it in your mind?

The "What if's?"

I'm in writing class today, counting the goosebumps on my arms because the window wayyyy up near the ceiling is open and I'm cold. The teacher announces that the next free writing topic is called "The Life Not Lived." It sounds ominous. And personal. I immediately feel myself withdrawing.

We're supposed to write about something we never did, but wished we had. The road not taken. Sigh. Even though I've gotten to know my fellow writing compatriots, I'm not one to bare my mistakes easily; not to strangers, not necessarily to friends, sometimes it's even hard with Drew and family. I feel like as soon as I say, "Looking back on it now, I should have..." What if I expose a very vulnerable part of myself to someone who (you never know!) stomps all over it? Ouch. Who in their right mind would want to do that?

As we read our accounts - the real versions and the fictionalized "What if's?" - I'm shamed. These people are honest, so incredibly honest. The woman across from me began by warning us that she might break down and cry. Then she shared about how deep in her gut, she knew at the time that she should not marry her boyfriend. But through misguided loyalty and a failure to truly explore her feelings, she found herself in a loveless, childless marriage for fifteen years. The older man to her left told us how he could have marched with Martin Luther King, but didn't. Another lady expressed a longing to have traveled to exotic locations when she was young and unattached.

Their stories were so poignant and honest. How does one share so openly, so freely, with a group of strangers?

jamie & april

It's my favorite time of year - leafy growth is popping up all over the place, I'm seeing that startling shade of vivid green, and, in between bouts of rain, there is sun. Perfection. I met Jamie and her daughter April at the Bird Sanctuary today for a photo shoot. April will be two in June, but she was already chattering away as small feet carried her quickly down the boardwalk. Jamie's an awesome mom and it was neat watching the two of them together and capturing sweet moments...a tiny hand in a larger one, Jamie smiling down at her daughter, April lisping "I love you."

Thanks for modeling for me, Jamie and April!

Chef a la Drew

When I make dinner, it involves a cookbook or a magazine or the Internet or a friend's "here's-how-ya-do-it." I stick (or try to, anyway. I'm not really great at reading the directions before diving in). But when Drew makes a meal, he uses the normal methods for finding a recipe, than the fun begins. He pops an ingredient in there, takes another away from here, fudges a little when he's supposed to use a tablespoon (two tablespoons will work just as well). And he creates a masterpiece.

Like the one below.

What is it exactly? Well, I'll call it an Asian style sweet potato & broccoli smorgasbord sprinkled with cinnamon and soy sauce and topped with a few cheese sticks (unexpected - I had made them for that evening's girls' night - but a very welcome addition). Does it look strange? Yes. Was it delicious? Hell's yeah! We feasted on leftovers for two days. I wish I knew how to make it, but unfortunately, my genius chef doesn't take notes.

Hooky!

It was a chilly day and I was playing hooky with Beth. She had stopped over in Asheville for a night (on her way to a swing dancing workshop in Nashville - how cool is that?!). A passerby would've seen two twenty something's striding down Montford Avenue in apparel that wasn't nearly warm enough, but grinning nonetheless as they lugged two big black cameras around (I'm the Canon totin' girl, Beth's a Nikon gal). The following is what happens when I + a friend + C.R. (spur of the moment - I've decided on my Canon Rebel's name) play hooky. ;)

A sweet alley way between Lexington and Broadway.

Another cool find...off the alley way, we discovered a large courtyard. 

Steps going down, steps going up, then back down again, lots of leafy greenery, 

and of course, wrought iron.

Don't forget the orange rhino!

Bobble head!