A Summer In Sometimes

After being scolded by a friend this past weekend for not updating my blog enough, I realized I have not been updating my blog enough.  If absence makes the heart grow fonder, there must be a mass of unread love letters piling up somewhere with my name on them.

This summer has flown by in a blur of heat waves and moving boxes, road trips and burning candles, friendships blossoming and decomposing, song lyrics and forgotten poems, and on the other side?  Well, quite frankly, I have no idea.

Therefore, I submit for the approval of the Midnight Society: my summer, in what I make best - a list.

Sometimes, you can be really, really brave.

Sometimes, you just aren't.

Sometimes, life hands you lemons, and you're allergic to citrus.  Or dairy.  Whatever.

Sometimes, an eight year old has the best advice.  And the best headbands.

Sometimes, you can still surprise yourself.

Sometimes, you spend an hour lying on the floor of the Whale Room in the Museum of Natural History, staring up at the moving ocean ceiling and swear you have found the meaning of life.

Sometimes, you need to ask for help.

Sometimes, you stumble upon people who will love you unconditionally.

Sometimes, you need to get lost in a park, a museum, on a bridge.

Sometimes, you need a little magic.

Other times, you just need a little Bowie.

Sometimes, you lose your job.

Sometimes, people will surprise you.

Other times, they will do exactly as you thought, for better or for worse.

Sometimes, you fall in love with a Ukulele player.

Sometimes, your cat knocks over a leftover-unopened bottle of Tab and it explodes all over your books and walls.

Sometimes, there are just not enough paper towels.

Sometimes, you cry your eyes out so hard that you think your brain is going to liquidate through your sockets.

Sometimes, you find closure.

Other times, you have to make peace with yourself.

Sometimes, you send a letter to your first love expressing forgiveness.  And you do not hear back.

Sometimes, you furniture breaks in a Budget rental truck.

Sometimes, you tackle the ferris wheel.

Sometimes, you get the privilege to dance.

Sometimes, you need to reconnect, rediscover, and redirect.

Sometimes, you learn how to open your heart again.

Always, you need to take a leap of faith, trust in your gut, and in yourself.

The Little Things

Lately, I've been trying to focus on the little things.

Walking to the L with confidence.

Blasting the new Regina on my morning commute.

Taking the ferry home from work.

New experiences.  New people.  New boundaries.  New mindset.

Eating a fresh beefsteak tomato - in one sitting.  Raw.

Accidentally spilling an entire waste container filled with bright blue, yellow, and pink ink from the copy machine all over myself.

A new phone cover, courtesy of Vera Bradley.

A Mr. Softee dip cone.

Having a conversation with a lonely older woman on the boat ride home.

Seeing my apartment building from the water.

Spending 3 hours eating and chatting in a famous-but-new-to-me pizza joint in a neighboring neighborhood.

Summer beers garnished with oranges.

Walking through the lit up park on a late summer night.

Stooping.  It's a thing.

The blue moon.

Rediscovering an old dress.

Rediscovering myself.

Driving with the windows down singing at the top of your lungs.

Walking past a kid playing with a 6 weeks old white kitten.  The same kid you walked past the week before, playing with the same kitten.  The kitten is bigger.

Watching Strong Bad Emails at work

Not changing the station when The Thong Song comes on the radio.  And remembering all the words.

Finding and loving new music.

Realizing you have 934 individual purchased songs in your iTunes.

Knowing where you are supposed to turn right, but going straight instead.  And continuing to drive.

Finding the entrance to a secret beer garden.

Learning about a secret bar, that is located behind a secret door in a secret phone booth with a secret dial code.

Retrieving the last thing that smells of you.

A sleeping kitten.

Learning that everything, and I do mean everything, is about timing.

A train ride to Moms new home.

A rainy train ride back with a good book and a new giraffe.

Finding the first fall leaf on the ground.

Noticing that the pink buildings I used to pass on my long NJ commute are still pink

Sitting on my giant roof, staring at the sky, the moon, the planes flying by.  Not seeing stars.  Knowing I know just where to go to find them.

Someone painting the word DREAM on the door to the roof in big bold capital letters.  DREAM.

Noticing the forgotten on my walks home, and finding the extraordinary in the ordinary - the things unseen or unnoticed.

Catching up with old friends.

Catching up with new friends.

A hug and a kiss from a Sweet Caraline

A hug and a kiss from Mommy.

How nothing ever changes.

How everything changes.

Spending the last summer weekend with family and friends, eating and drinking, barbecuing and laughing, getting eaten alive by mosquito's and not knowing it until the following morning.

Finding the moments of happiness in between all the rest.

Expunging the negative to make room for the positive.

Enjoying a night of complete inner peace, and hoping for many more to come.

Easy Breezey

This weekend, I was reminded of why I live here.  Street art, music performances, spontaneous gatherings and friends, impromptu soccer games, and seeing sides of the city I haven't yet experieced had me falling in love all over again (not to mention the absolute perfection that was the early summer weather). 

It also helps that my new job is pretty awesome, and allowing me the opportunity to be in different city neighborhoods each week, while exploring new parks and restaurants.  I love finding these little hole-in-the-wall boutiques and eateries that thrive soley based on word-of-mouth and discoveries by people just looking for new things and adventures.  I think this may be the summer of just that.

I say this because last summer, I told myself I would try and explore as much of the city as possible.  I think I did that, but I don't think I enjoyed myself as much as I should have, or could have.  Last summer turned into a summer of growth.  This summer, I'm going to try what I am not deeming the art of enjoyment - allowing myself to breathe everything in and embrace it.  Take stock of the little things, the moments that pass by, and just let go.  If I have learned anything in this transition it is that things can't always be controlled the way you want them to be.  People and things come in and out of your life the way they were designed to, and at some point, you need to allow for that or die fighting for things that may never be.  I am excited for the unknown and the adventures that lay ahead; To continue growing and learning and exploring all that I have yet to face.  I can't wait to see what's up next.