make it happen

New outfit location?  For some reason I really liked this getup, so I took a picture on the back porch (which is much less stressful than exposing myself to public scrutiny).  Maybe the era of outfit photos isn't over after all... Still, there isn't really anything spectacularly thrilling about the clothes.  Mostly I just liked that my scarf matched my tights.  

There has been a lot going on in my head lately.  I've been feeling extraordinarily antisocial--leaving the house for any reason seems like such a chore, even though staying in makes me antsy and irritable.  I feel like I'm just in this holding pattern while I'm waiting for the trip to start, because I've planned so much, so many little details, and now I'm just adrift.  I feel like I can't talk about anything but the trip, but at the same time I don't really want to talk about it.  I am just WAITING.  And I hate waiting.

I've also been thinking a lot about what will happen when the trip is over.  How will I transition back into "normal" life?  K will be starting grad school at UVM (we decided to stay where we are, even though he got into EVERY SINGLE SCHOOL he applied to... what a guy), we'll be looking for a new apartment, and although I'll most likely be returning to my current job, I'm hoping to start up again in a telecommuting capacity... but I want to make sure I really start maximizing every day, making the most of this little life.

Way back in 2010, I wrote a post outlining obstacles for planning a long trip around the world.  While many of the points I made in that post are no longer relevant (I don't think that I'm a "dried-up version of my former self" because I don't want to go out dancing every night, I just feel like I'm a grown-up version of my former self), I will admit that the primary difference is that I've paid down a significant portion of my debt and am ready to start racking it up again.  So much of my life choices lately have become just that: CHOICES.  I have become more and more focused on figuring out what really makes me happy and what I do just because I can or feel like I should.

This post really struck home with me.

The reason I am happier now that I was two years ago: I decided to be.  It really is as simple as that.  That's how everything fell into place.  That's why this trip is happening.  I decided to make it happen.  So much of how we feel and what we do is dependent on our level of mindfulness and self-awareness, and I'm only starting to commit to the idea that I can make things happen for myself.  It's such a small, obvious thing, but I spent so much of my life resisting it, relying on chance or fate to make decisions for me.  It seems so silly now, so immature.  Once I identified what I really wanted (the trip, above all else), it was easy to cut superfluous spending.  I didn't kill time shopping.  I cut out cocktails and coffee beverages.  And suddenly I was able to put large chunks of money into my savings account, while still keeping up with expenses and paying down debt.  It's amazing to me how simple it was.

Despite the fact that we live in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave, it seems to me that most of us are neither.  We find jobs that help support our consumer habits, that allow us to pay for the outrageously expensive educations we received, that make possible the purchase of cars and homes and televisions and help support the raising of children who will most likely go on to overpriced universities and spend the rest of their lives repeating the cycle.  We lay down roots and are comforted by their strength as they thicken and stretch.  We think we're doing what we want because that's what we have been taught or told to want. That, to me, is not freedom.  We do what is easy, what pays the bills, what is socially acceptable.   That, to me, is not bravery.

Traveling around the country in a car for three months is not everyone's idea of a good time.  We have mixed reactions when we tell people our plans--some are envious, some are incredulous.  What matters is that is where MY happy is.  Or maybe it's not.  Maybe I've just idealized and romanticized it my whole life, and in fact I will have a terrible time and be cured of my wanderlust forevermore.  The point is, I need to find out.  I need to do it.  And so I will, because I can.  

What would you do, if you could do anything?

in which i've got wild horses and springtime

I am fully on board with the novelty prints this year (one of the fabrics I bought a few weekends ago is covered in little ice cream cones and popsicles--could it be more amazing??), and when I spotted this scarf, with little white horses trotting around on it, it had to be mine. I had originally built a very pastel outfit around it, since it's such a lovely light blue, but decided to save that until it's actually spring. The weather has been glorious lately (not that I have had much chance to experience it from my gloomy gray office), and I'm hoping to finally spend some time outside over the weekend.

(scarf: tjmaxx; cardigan/trench: h&m; skirt: vintage; shoes: seychelles)

I always look so mean on sunny days... I have a major squinting problem. I even squint on cloudy days! Snow makes me squint, too. What can I say, I'm sensitive to light (but boy, do I love it).

I can't believe it's only Tuesday. Time feels strange lately, like it's rushing and lagging at the same time. I feel simultaneously over- and underwhelmed. Weirdness. Maybe this is what the middle ground feels like. It's been a while since I've felt so content--spring is coming, I'm being creatively productive (it's relative, people), I've been spending time with K, and my family, and my friends, I have summertime adventures to look forward to... life is good.

What are you loving about life today?

in which this is life in a northern town

This winter is so strange. I can't believe we're almost halfway into February and it's as if the winter has passed without notice (that never happens--I always notice winter, and it always draaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaags me through its misery until I feel like it will never end). But now the sun is bright and shining, signaling an end to the season, and it all just feels like a blink and a miss. We've hardly even had any snow--I saw on the news a couple of nights ago that we are 22 inches below average snowfall this year.

(dress: forever 21; scarf: thrifted; sunglasses: kinney drugs; boots: seychelles)

So, apologies for the straightforward outfit situation today. I just haven't felt like adding layers lately, opting instead for clashing patterns, which give the impression of depth.

So many good things about today, not least of which is the fact that I do not have to go to the gym tonight. And by that I mean that I do not intend to go. Instead, I will be going to see Charles Bradley & His Extraordinaires at Higher Ground, and I'm super excited! He is a BAD ASS. K discovered him (he is the band-discoverer in our relationship--I am totally not "hip" to the music scene, never have been) last summer, and his album became kind of an anthem for driving around town with the windows down. According to the Higher Ground website, he is "commonly referred to as the 'Screaming Eagle of Soul'..." so you can imagine how great this show is going to be :) Also good: I ate a truffle.

And I'm pretty proud of last night's dinner, mostly because I had no idea what to eat and I threw this together from whatever was buried in the belly of my fridge (and it was so tasty!):

(cheese/spinach ravioli; sauteed veggies in olive oil sauce--yea they're frozen, what of it?; pesto)

in which february is for ski sweaters

Can it be true? February is notorious around here for being agonizingly frigid (they don't call it the "February Freeze" for nothing), but today feels astonishingly spring-like. Hey, fine by me. I just wish it wasn't because of Climate Change and all of the nastiness that goes along with it.

(sweater/hat: stolen from mom; shorts/belt: thrifted; boots: llbean)

Funny how I always seem to dress most warmly on days when it is least necessary, and on the coldest days I tend to wear little filmy dresses and towering heels. Go figure. Mother Nature and I are not on the same wavelength, apparently. Also, I wasn't planning on wearing hats anymore but I guess I just can't get enough--I'm a hat-o-holic!

I'm feeling pretty good today. I do keep going back to yesterday's post and staring at the photos of those sunnier, wandering days and daydreaming of summertime and adventures and whatnot, but living vicariously through my own past seems to be doing the trick for now. Or maybe it's the unseasonably warm weather and the fact that it is now February, which means we're that much closer to those summer months, or the fact that I have been going to the gym at least once in a while, or the fact that Art Club is so great, or that I'm wearing comfortable shoes, or that I'm about to consume some peanut butter... I suppose it's always a multitude of factors that add up to our ultimate happiness. I would like to get a little more sleep, though...

Hooray for February!

wanderlust (tuesday): road trip 2011

Last summer, one of my dear college girlfriends took a two-month road trip around the western USA (Texas to California to Washington to Montana and back again). Lucky me, I flew out to meet her in Albuquerque, and accompanied her on one leg of the journey. We spent most of our time in Utah, a part of the country I had never thought much about, and I absolutely fell in love with the scenery. It was an incredibly beautiful experience, and I'm so glad I was able to share it with such a great friend!

We left Albuquerque bright and early the morning after I arrived, and our first stop was the famous Four Corners:

We drove briefly across the border into Colorado in search of Pueblo ruins. Unfortunately, the GPS led us fantastically astray:

These do not look like ancient ruins to me (ruins of modern society, maybe). After realizing that we were way off track and had already wasted most of the day, we briefly stopped at Mesa Verde to see the Pueblo Cave Dwellings, but by the time we got to the top of the winding mountain road (hello vertigo!), we didn't have much time to tour the site. We did briefly drop in at the closest Pueblo ruins, which were pretty cool in their own right.

It was getting late and we were determined to get to our campsite before dark (we failed), so we headed back down the mountain and drove to Arches National Park, where we would be camping for the next couple of days. We pitched our tent, cooked up some tofu dogs and threw back a couple of (still-cold) beers (we ate tofu dogs almost every night, and I discovered that I love mustard!).

The next morning, we woke up with the heat and ventured out for our inaugural hike.

It was damn hot and I got a bit of heatstroke the first day and had to hide out in the tent after our seven-mile hike through the desert.

After a short nap, I felt much better. We chopped up some firewood and went off in search of the sunset:

(Skyline Arch)

(Petroglyphs at the Delicate Arch Trailhead)

(Sunset at "The Windows")

After a long, STRENUOUS hike up the side of a rock mountain on our last early morning at Arches, we were treated to an amazing view of the park's most famous arch:

Everything seemed to be completely perfect in that moment--despite the presence of all the other tourists it was utterly peaceful up there. I even circled the rim to stand in the center of the arch. Highlight of the morning: an older (but athletic!) man with a cane, clearly on some sort of bonding trip with a few of his friends, started yodeling into the canyon. It was brilliant, and everyone clapped and cheered when he finished. It was the perfect ending to the perfect climb, and Catherine and I finally felt ready to continue on.

And then we drove to Canyon Reef, as a bit of a detour on our way to Bryce Canyon:

After a relatively easy evening hike, we stayed up and drank watery Bohemian Brew until the wee hours of the morning.

There wasn't much to see at Canyon Reef, so we were on our way at sunrise.

After setting up camp at Bryce Canyon, we were eager to hit the Hoodoos!

(These switchbacks were killer, and because part of the trail was closed due to a collapse, we had to go all the way back up them at the end of our hike--ouch.)

Later that evening, we drove up the mountain a bit to watch the sunset over the hoodoos and do a short hike through the woods. Unfortunately, the sun set faster than anticipated, it started to get dark, and we were both absolutely (but independently--we didn't want to scare each other) convinced that we heard a mountain lion rustling around. We spent the entirety of the "hike" banging things together and singing, while speedwalking our way out of there.

We really wanted to catch a sunrise while we were at Bryce, so we got up crazy early (4 am) and made our way to a lookout (appropriately named "Sunrise Point"). Mornings in Bryce were frigid, a somewhat welcome change from the devastating heat of Arches, but blankets and sweatshirts were crucial:

After the sun had risen, we went back to camp and prepared ourselves for another day-long hike.

The hike was wonderful. There was hardly anyone else on the trail, so we were able to wander unencumbered through the Hoodoo wonderland, while the other tourists stuck to the closer, easier, shorter trails :)

Before leaving Bryce Canyon, we stopped for a shorter hike at Mossy Cove, bringing a picnic lunch of peanut-butter-and-honey-and-banana sandwiches to enjoy at the foot of the waterfall. And then we were off to Zion! Our first night at Zion was kind of a bust. We wanted to do a small hike that evening, but when we went to the Visitor's Center and asked where the Archaeological Trail was, the guide told us that we looked like we had gotten too much sun and that we should go sit in the river or something, instead. So we did.

And then we laid in it, and tried to wash ourselves, and then, finally feeling refreshed, we went up to the lodge for fancy fruity cocktails (me), straight-up liquor (her), and decadent dessert.

The next morning, it was back down to business. We got up early (again, to beat the heat), and hiked the 8 miles up to Observation Point and back. Hoo boy, let me tell you. That was not an easy trip... but it was damn worth it. We chose this trail because it was the only one of the strenuous options that did not threaten death by falling from cliffs--but there were some pretty seriously scary drop-offs. From basically every point on the trail (I'd hate to see the other guy).

We took another leisurely stroll (basically along a flat path--Riverside Walk) out to the Narrows later that day. It was swarming with tourists in tennis shoes, and the contrast from our epic mountain climb only hours before was a bit of a shock to the system. After a night of cards and lukewarm beers (and a few evening hours dedicated to swimming in the river and journaling on the shore), we woke up to hike the Emerald Pools trail, starting on the Grotto trail. My camera battery had died back in Bryce, but Catherine's must have died by this point as well, since we only have Diana photos from the hike that day:

(I believe this is likely a photo of me looking disapprovingly on as parents allowed their children to splash around in the Emerald pools. There were signs literally everywhere instructing hikers to stay out of the pools (even wading was forbidden) in order to preserve the integrity of the habitat. I was appalled.)

And then it was time for Vegas:

The first night we saw Cirque du Soleil's Mystère, which was jaw-droppingly gasp-worthy, and wandered down the strip:

After a failed attempt at viewing the famous Bellagio fountains (they stop at midnight... WTF??), we finally ended up back at our hotel...

...where we cashed in on our complimentary cocktails and played slots until 4 AM:

After rising rather late the next day, we had an enormous (free) buffet lunch and walked into the underbelly of Vegas (the back end of the strip) to check out some Chapels:

My favorite Chapel (above).

At this drive-through chapel we saw a rather intoxicated girl in a little white dress come stumbling out of a cab with her uber-nerdy husband-to-be (it was a sight...)!

Before heading out for the night, we stopped downstairs to ride the roller coaster (yes, roller coaster) in our hotel. Actually, one of many.

That night we went to California Pizza Kitchen (classy, woo-hoo) at Harrah's, downed a bottle of champagne with our pizza, and then stopped in at an awesome dueling-piano bar for some whiskey with our sing-along.

We closed down that bar around 2, then went out in search of a dance club (which we found), and danced until it became apparent that the DJ was not going to take our Lady Gaga request seriously. We headed over to Planet Hollywood, which turned out to be closed (at this point it was 4 am). We decided to try our luck at the only after-hours club nearby (at an Irish casino..??), deciding it was time to head home only after we realized the cover was $20. Not happening. (There was a lot of wandering--and dancing--that night.)

We crashed around 5, then got up bright and early for a trip to the Hoover Dam:

On the way home from the Dam, we stopped to snap a photo at the legendary Vegas sign:

We played some vintage pinball at the Pinball Museum (I could have stayed all day--it was incredibly addictive!)...

...then headed back down the strip for one last shot at those damn Bellagio fountains:

They were worth the wait.

An hour later, I was on an airplane back to the east coast. I'll never forget this trip as long as I live--it was one of the best. Thanks to Catherine for inviting me along!