16 January 2013

And there are days...

... you feel you suck at playing adult and would much rather gather up your toys and go home.

And you do, realizing you'll be back at it, playing adult in the morning.

11 January 2013

Washington, DC

Hard to believe I started this week in Washington, DC. It was my first time in the city and I did embarrassingly little research in anticipation. The timing was a bit crazy: I literally drove home from Michigan the day before I flew out, arriving home around 9:00pm, unpacking my car, and at the airport by 4:30am. Amidst all the Christmas crazy, there just wasn't time. 

I knew I had to see Abe. Strange how I know so much about him, his life, and yet I'd never been to the Lincoln Memorial. This is perhaps as close to church as I get. 

I had a chance to meet up with my friend Natalie - who I hadn't seen in six years! - and she took me around to her favorite spots, including Kramers. If the Lincoln Memorial is as close to a church as I get, Kramers was as close to Heaven I dare believe possible. Books and food? Yes, yes, yes. 

Also: check out that beard. That is what three weeks of no shaving looks like. Weird.  

10 January 2013

Edna, Who Resonates


Was it for this I uttered prayers,
And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs,
That now, domestic as a plate,
I should retire at half-past eight? 

Grown Up, Edna St.Vincent Millay, 1920

09 January 2013

It's been a long two and a half weeks. I've been home, to the aunt and uncle's, to one of my best friends in the world's, to Washington, D.C., and home again. Jiggity jig, or something like that. 

I am so fortunate to have so many people who are willing to put up with me (and even encourage my presence!) over the break, but if I am to be honest, I am exhausted. But a good kind of exhausted. The kind of exhausted that comes from little brothers who insist on being complete tornadoes while they sleep and on sharing the bed. The kind that is fostered by late night games of cards or gatherings of good friends, old and new, into the wee hours of night. It's a good kind of exhausted: I need to remind myself of this often as I attempt to regain some rhythm.