I've been having the strangest dreams ever.

A few nights ago I dreamt that Gabe was lost in Iraq, and no one would help me find him. In my next dream, I showed up to my wedding without having written my vows--as an expressive girl, showing up with a blank sheet is pretty much my worst nightmare. Next, in dreamland I was on an eternal road trip after losing my luggage...wearing the same thing day after day after day while searching for my lost suitcase.

I rarely remember my dreams. And when I do, they're not stressful. What is up with all that. And yet while they're a little pesky, I'm oddly fascinated by this little psychological dreamland turn.

Are you a dream-rememberer, or do you forget within moments of waking? And do you think dreams really mean anything, or are they like clouds passing--open to whatever interpretation the viewer sees fit?


how we celebrated.

Above all other birthday hopes and dreams, I wanted Gabe to open his birthday box and find a cake. Like a real "ooh--ahhh" birthday cake. Sending a fully-assembled birthday cake wasn't an option--a good cake with frosting wouldn't stand up to the two week delay or the sticky temps that it would face in the middle east. But, I wasn't compromising on this. So, I schemed a bit and decided to send a drier cake, with frosting and sprinkles on the side, cheerfully compartmentalized in a faux tiered birthday cake. Yeah...I went there. I made a cake, and then I made a faux cake to hold the real unassembled cake. That's how badly I wanted this moment.

According to my research a brownie cake sans butter and frosting holds up well for overseas shipping. I opted for that approach, wrapped the cake very tightly and placed it in the bottom tier of the faux cake. Then, in the other smaller tiers I placed sealed frosting and sprinkles. I covered the gift boxes with a funky textured paper to give it that homemade frosting feel...and used ribbon around the top of each tier like piped frosting. Hot glue a few faux birthday candles and craft a lil' cake topper...and...

BAM. Ship-Friendly-Oooh-Aaah-Birthday-Cake-Moment with enclosed decorate it yourself birthday cake...and virtually no fears of smooshed, rotten cake arriving to greet my loved one!

We both set aside our Saturday for an extended Skype date...which was so very much fun. It started with me honking on a birthday noisemaker for about five minutes, yelling, "Happybirthdayhappybirthday!!!" , then progressed to both of us donning goofy party hats....my singing  the most ridiculous Happy Birthday rendition and lighting a mini-cake on fire with about 20 candles, while Gabe assembled the brownie cake on his side.

Then we got to the good part: the birthday gift. It's something that's always felt funny to me, buying your spouse or fiancee a spendy gift with their money. So, I quietly worked at my old office a few days a week this summer, tucking away my earnings into a "Birthday Bank" that eventually grew into....

...the iPad2. Gabe gifted me an iPad2 this summer, complete with sentimental engraving. The best thing I could do was put us in an equally nerdy boat, complete with sentimental engraving:

To the one I travel the world with,
And the one who is my world**

He loved it. Later we snuggled in to watch Bridesmaids while Skyping...we laughed our rears off. Then we chatted for a few hours before we were too exhausted to try to make any more conversation.

All told it was nearly a five hour birthday Skype affair. For being 6,000 miles apart...it wasn't a shabby birthday at all. Gabe says it was his best b-day yet.  I know that's not smoke because he said it in his choked-up, "trying not to cry to maintain my masculine tough-guy image" voice .

And that voice never lies. :)

**English sticklers, I am sorry. I'm certain there's something off in that first line. But given Apple's engraving space limitations, you're gonna have to deal with the fact that I soiled the English language on my fiancee's iPad. Forever.


we interrupt your day for...b-day jazz hands.

In just a few hours, my love turns 35. (If you just did the math---we're 10 years apart. Scandal!) I sent a birthday package a few weeks in advance and we're set for a Bridesmaids movie Skype date + gift opening tomorrow evening. In the meantime, I'm dreaming of a future where birthdays can be spent face to face.

So, sweetheart...happy birthday. Last year I bought your birthday card from the "Blank" section--we'd just met. This year, I found your card filed under "Husband". I guess we move fast...and that's so exciting. I cannot wait to marry you. I won't say "pretend I made you a birthday dinner", cause we both know that's too far removed from reality. But, pretend I shaved my legs, put on that Anthropologie dress you bought me (which I've never worn), took you to Ruth's Chris Steak House and bought you the beefiest steak on the menu.

And then, pretend I read this little list to you in person.

35 Reasons Why I Love You

because you're the perfect right-brained compliment to my left brained craziness.
because you treat my best friend like a queen.
because when you drink too much, you speak nonstop--often in technie jargon. and its hilarious.
because you encourage me to chase rainbows. quite literally.
because you have such a soft spot for your nieces and nephews.
because you use the funniest baby voice when you talk to doggies.
because you are deathly afraid of bees...given your tough navy persona, this makes me giggle.
because you wear the black-rimmed nerd glasses just for me. and you hate them.
because when i say, "okay..." you know i mean, "not okay...".
because you always make me feel safe.
because you have the same unhealthy relationship with mac and cheese as i do.
because you never make me feel silly for taking photos of flowers, coffee cups, cake and benches.
because you love me through periods of depression, anxiety and inferiority, never once exasperated with me.
because you turned "my dreams" into "our dreams".
because every day you tell me "i love you" and "you're beautiful".
because you never get frustrated when i explain computer + tv problems like, "you know, that stuff that does that thing? it's doing this thing...."
because you always carry the camera bag when we travel. even on a 20 hour travel day.
because we agree on baby names.
because when we play the "Peugeot" car game in Europe, you never punch me as hard as I punch you.
because you converted to dr. pepper.
because we can agree to disagree on some "hot button" issues...and neither of us worry about it.
because you're such an early riser...you put me to shame.
because you always let me have the chaise portion of the sectional sofa. now that's love.
because you remember my very favorite breakfast cereal, and keep stocked at our house in california.
because you talk about "the kids" whenever we're at the house, chatting about what to do with the yard. i'm pretty sure that's referring to our "someday" kids. :)
because you always try to upgrade my flights using your oodles of miles.
because we both love nerdy documentaries. (just please...no more about the water crisis.)
because i'm the least classy gal alive, but you're never embarrassed to take me to swanky places.
because you've got so many stories.
because you let me nap whenever we're on a road trip, happy to drive while i sleep.
because i'm pretty sure you have a photographic memory ONLY for "how i met your mother" episodes.
because you are a fabulous cook. i'm not...and you're A-okay with that.
because last time we fought, you went upstairs to vaccuum and "blow off steam". how cute.
because you're not afraid of PDA.
because just when i think i couldn't love you more...i do.

Happy birthday, my heart. I love you more than words can say. :)


the wedding diaries: the ceremony.

(Photo by me. Words, my vow-inspiration, by lovely Jane Austen.)

Neither Gabe nor I feel particularly bound by religious wedding-ceremony traditions. A few years ago I got all wild and left the very conservative Lutheran church of my youth*. Gabe was raised Catholic, but doesn't feel strongly about incorporating those traditions on our big day. We want our ceremony to be godly, loving and reflective of who we are...all told, our ceremony should be the easiest piece of the wedding puzzle.

And yet even with this freedom, the ceremony is one piece that I'd rather not plan. At all. I'd like to hot potato that sucker on to someone else and call "Not it!!" in the event that a guest take offense at our less-conservative ceremony. Don't get me wrong: We love God. But, we're not the preachy type. Not the buttoned-up 10 minute prayer, lengthy Bible-reading, formal 30 minute wedding sermon and seven hymns type. While we want to incorporate some religious pieces, we'd like to use quotes, passages from literature and secular songs to supplement other parts of the ceremony.

Label me a pessimist, but I just feel an incident headed my way if I don't plan our ceremony carefully. A handful of people I know would likely be offended by our incorporating of secular readings + music. And truth be told: It's my biggest wedding stress. While I want to avoid incident, I also refuse to mold our ceremony into a buttoned up conservative church service...something that isn't us, solely to pacify others.

So, I'm in need of some help: Are there any wise ways to plan a ceremony that reflects you as a couple...while still appeasing guests who might have strong religious opinions?

Additionally, I'm a long-time fan of writing personal vows...something I didn't see at weddings I attended prior to leaving my church. Any stellar resources, quotes or passages for vow inspiration?

*This is the ultra-abbreviated version. I don't mean to be flippant, but it's a long, emotionally-exhausting tale. We'll leave it short and sweet.


i believe in weddings.

I still have dreams of eloping--of skipping all the wedding choices, the stress and the expense...cutting straight to "I Do". Gabriel knows me too well and will have none of this elopement talk--all too aware that I'd spend the rest of my life bemoaning never picking out flowers or first dance tunes.

But...my mind changed this Saturday, when I was lucky enough to play wedding photographer for a dear, dear family friend. And from hairdo to "I do", I was with the bride...watching all the little moments that a wedding day brings. While my dad and sis worked to organize + capture all the posed shots, I snuck away to snap photos of shoes, dresses, bouquets and blue handkerchiefs. All the beautiful details that brides spend sleepless nights coordinating and seeing through.

It was such a heartfelt day, so beautiful and yet not overly fussy. I even snatched a few adorable reception ideas that I'd not bumped into previously. I couldn't help but think, "I want this. I want all this!" The whole day made me a wedding believer. I believe in weddings...for the first time in a long, long time.

Once we'd snapped all the big moments we kicked off our shoes, tossed back a few drinks and danced the night away...and things got wildly out of character*. A babyfaced 21-year-old boy flirted with me for at least 20 minutes, and in my overwhelmed wave of flattery...I bought him a drink. (I am cougar. Hear me roar.) Guilt-ridden over the fact that I'd just bought another man a drink, I texted my fiance to confess the purchased drink, and he agreed that it was worth every penny for the much-needed ego boost.

...and that's why Reason #236 why I'm marrying him. Because he gets it.

*Sidenote:  This Saturday night sweatpants + takeout kind of girl really surprised herself. I'll have you know that I did turn down Babyface's request to slow dance. I mean, a girl's got a reputation to upkeep. ;)


wordless wednesday.

(Taken by me at Versailles. Someday--go there.)

Wordless Wednesday? Who am I kidding...I could never go word-free 'round here. The closest you'll get is "word-lite".  So, I'll spare you all the psycho-babble, the artsy fartsy reasonings behind why this photo is particularly applicable to my life today.

Instead, I'll tell you that I had my first heart-to-heart appointment with my counselor today. An appointment that was more than paperwork and checkboxes. She felt like a wise, kind friend with an ultra cushy chair just for me. It was enlightening. And warm. I cried my eyes out, and didn't feel silly or judged for one solitary second.

There is so much warmth and light to be had in this world, if only you stand up and say one little word: Help. Throwing in a "please" in doesn't hurt, either. :)

Happy Wednesday. :)


on teachers.

In sixth grade, I had the most amazing teacher, Mrs. Libby. She was the first teacher who I felt understood that we were all little human beings with creative thoughts, ideas and emotions worthy of expressing. Sure, my classmates and I lacked the ability to properly express those ideas and possessed a cumulative smell of rank BO. But she was spunky and she got us. She was an out of box thinker, and read to us from books like The BFG, allowing us to snicker at words like "whizzpopper" and "snozzcumber".

Later, that sixth grade teacher would hand me my first grown up job at a non-profit, where I worked for 5 years, made some lifelong friendships and learned seventeen billion things about the grown up world. Moral of the story...sixth grade teachers can change your life. Be nice to them.

But all that aside, one of my favorite things about Mrs. Libby was this: Every afternoon following lunch and recess, she wrote a Rebus word teaser on the chalkboard. We all quietly raced to decode it. As a girl who struggled with social anxiety, lunch and recess time was the hardest part of the day. But Rebus time was my saving grace. It meant the scary part of the day was through. All was quiet and I could churn in my own mind, melt away to that quiet little cave where my stomach didn't ache and my heart didn't race.

All this had been pushed into my cluttered-attic of a mind until a few nights ago, when I mentally tripped across a Rebus puzzle and started unstacking countless other memories from sixth grade. Suddenly I understood the difference between a teacher and a great teacher: A great teacher makes sure you remember Rebus puzzles and snozzcucumbers years down the road. They create opportunities for expression by planning zombie parties, they spend their precious summer crafting medieval art tattoos. Truly great teachers make you a valuable piece of the classroom and create experiences you'll remember in fifteen years...when you're up late watching American Pickers and eating Cheese Doodles.

Granted, these great teachers are all trumped by the rarest form of teacher, one I've been lucky to have: Hot British Drawing Instructor with Foxy Accent. But hey--kudos for trying, great teachers. :)

Do you have a favorite all-time teacher? What made your teach exceptional?


i believe in reciliency.

I was fifteen when I woke on September 11, 2011. In my world, planes were only hijacked in movies, and buildings only fell out of the sky during demolitions in Las Vegas, in preparation for the next big casino. So at 9:20 am, when my algebra teacher attempted to explain what happened to my world, I couldn't understand. Most of us didn't even know what the World Trade Center was. It was all so mucky.

"Your world has completely changed," my mother said that night at dinner. "Boys you know, maybe your classmates, will go off to war. It will never be the same."

Three days later, a Friday, I faked sick, curled up on the couch and watched nonstop coverage. I couldn't stop crying. But among the emotional wreckage, there were strangely beautiful moments to be found. Like men carrying strangers out of falling buildings, stories of those who had sacrificed themselves to save a friend or footage from countries all over the world who donned red, white and blue and sang God Bless America.

Yesterday I felt the same. I was sucked into hours of History channel specials, playing every bit of footage from September 11. It is still so tragic. So fresh. So devastating. And yet so hopeful.

They may have changed us. They may have ushered in a world of impossibly minuscule travel shampoos and 1 quart Ziploc bags. An era of body scans and barefoot TSA moments. They may have masterminded a period of vulnerability, in which our stomachs flutter at the thought of boarding a plane or subway.

But we still love, perhaps deeper than before. We continue to take pride in our country, our freedom and the values on which our nation was founded. 

We are forever changed. But we have not lost. We now understand tenfold that every day is a gift...and in many, many ways...that means we have won.


a million little thank yous.

I shot this in Paris...when I spotted two children chasing bubbles in the
Jardin des Tuileries. It never ceases to make me feel happy + carefree.

There are not enough words to thank everyone who reached out to me yesterday. The comments and the emails were incredible...like a shower of glitter on a day that desperately needed some sparkle. After several rounds of paperwork and twenty minutes of answering the basics, I was referred to a marriage + family counselor who also specializes in eating disorders, which is likely where some of my anxiety and depression stems. (In a big way. I believe I "yessed" every eating disorder-related question. I never realized it was so bad.)

Once I left the on-campus counseling center, I laid in the grass and indulged in a 45 minute daydream. It was the most amazing I've felt in weeks.  My thoughts didn't race. My heart didn't pound. I didn't think about food. Or my pants size. In simply seeking help, I feel I've found a bit of peace. Although there's tough work to do ahead, knowing that I don't walk alone has given me hope.

If you emailed me with questions or advice, I so appreciate it and will be getting back to you this weekend! I'm a bit emotionally zapped today, so I'm planning to step away from the computer and just enjoy life.

Funny sidenote: Yesterday morning, on my way to my counseling appointment my car overheated. Yeah, funny. On my way to my ANXIETY counseling...my car stopped working. High five, life! :)


the first step is the hardest.

Today I have scary butterflies in my stomach. 
Today I will tell a stranger all the ways in which I am not okay.
Today I will be raw. 
And, today I will be brave.

While I've written about my struggles with mental health, today is the first I've sought ongoing professional help in my battle with depression, anxiety and body image. I should have done this years ago, because I deserve to be happy and healthy. Because I am worthy of being whole. But, anxiety can't be seen on an x-ray and no one can run your bloodwork to prove that you're low on Happy Juice, so it's easy to push away signs that you need help.

But, in ten months, I will no longer be a "me"...I'll become a "we". A team. Even among the excitment of engagement and wedding-planning, the past few months have been harder than I've faced in a while. In my heart, I long to be the best wife for Gabriel, to be his sunshine. A wife who is comfortable in her own body, and doesn't cry if she gains half a pound. A wife who can set aside social anxieties and not plan her day around panic attacks. And someday, a mother who will raise little girls to be soft, yet strong. To live without fear. To love themselves just as they are, and to see that life is so, so very good.

They say the first step is the hardest...this step was rock hard and humbling. But for myself, for Gabriel and for our someday-family I am admitting that I cannot do it alone. At least for a little while, I need someone to walk with me.


how to: make one dollar wall art.

Happy girls are the prettiest.--Audrey Hepburn

Lately I've been having the trickiest time getting to sleep, as well as the strangest dreams. The other night after waking up from a scary dream, I laid awake in bed for about twenty minutes staring at the blank wall across from my bed. And then it hit me. Wire wall art. I needed to make some. A quote to cheer up the blank wall I stare at during my 2am wake up sessions. So, I grabbed the closest permanent marker, scrawled "WIRE WALL ART" on my palm, and prayed I wouldn't wake with it on my cheek. (I didn't.) The next morning I woke and did just that. Wall art: check!

It took a few hours, but that's likely because I'm an ADD crafter who alternates between several crafts at once. But the best part of all: I only spent $0.99, and have at least 75 feet of wire left should I ever need copious amounts of galvanized wire...

Anyway, here's how I created it! You will need:

1 100 ft. spool of 18-gauge galvanized wire (I found this in the automotive dept. for $0.99)
1 pliers
1 hot glue gun
1 can of spray paint

1. Using Microsoft Word, create + print a template for your word or phrase in the size and font style you'd like on your wall. I used Learning Curve (available here) because it has size continuity from letter to letter, as well as a continuous loop--it made for easy wire sculpting!

2. Cut off a length of wire by bending the wire back and forth with a pliers--after several seconds it will get warm and break from the roll. (Word to the wise: it takes more than you might think--cut a generous amount!)

3. Begin to form the letters, following the letter pattern on your paper. Kind of like tracing over the top of it with wire. I formed mine just like I would write in cursive--lots of doubling back with stems and loops! It helps to use a pliers to manipulate the wire...especially so you can really smooth out any kinks or smoosh together stems of letters like "p" or "t", if you've doubled back, cursive-style. Your hands might get a little tired, so take your time!

4. Once your word is finished, cut off any excess wire. Use excess wire to form crossbars of the letter "t" or dots for "i" or "j". I attached my crossbars with a lil' hot glue. I formed my "i" by creating a little wire spiral, and then looping that through the top of the "i" and pinching tight with the pliers. Feel free to also hot glue together any loops that won't stay crossed in the right place.

5. Spray paint black and let dry.

6. Hang. And love!

I rarely like my own DIY projects, but I've been loving this. I attached a few felt flowers to the wall, too, to keep it ultra cheery. Don't worry about being perfect. Imperfections only make it look sweeter! And that's my favorite kind of craft.


her name is...

I knew something was brewing yesterday when my mom asked me to stop by the house with my camera, so she could snap some photos of a craft project. Infact, two flags were raised from this request:

1. My mother is not a crafter. 

2. My father owns about 567,345 bajillion cameras that are nicer than mine.

But the offer came with free pizza, so of course I showed. And who should greet me in the driveway? The sweetest lab-mix you've ever met, complete with a pink bow! This weekend, my parents had adopted 5-year-old Winnie, fully housebroken and fully trained.

Last month, our kitten passed away and contrary to all "pet-grief" guidelines, my sis and I had already started the dialogue on getting a new pet...but it seems our parents beat us to the punch!  While I'll always have a soft spot for puppies (Gabe has promised we'll get one someday)...it is nice that Winnie's energy has leveled out, and that we won't find her wetting on the carpet!

Unfortunately Winnie doesn't have a hot career as a doggie model--the poor thing couldn't quite sit still long enough for me to capture her. She was much more interested in taking her fourth (!!) walk of the day and the six bacon treats stuffed in my back pocket.

(My mom, sis and Winnie on our walk.)

If there's any silver lining to be found in losing a pet it is this: life has given you the chance to fall in love with a new pet all over again, even sooner than you thought you could. 

And after a round of teary goodbyes, a new hello is so very welcome.


i believe in mondays: holiday edition.

Here in the states, it's Labor Day. Which means we...uh, do nothing and take a random day off of life. Hurrah! But it's still Monday, which means I've got to kick off my creative mojo.

This week, I believe...

...in faux birthday candles. I'm knee-deep in crafting Gabe's birthday care package and am a little behind schedule. Something tells me that real candles + matches sent through international mail might be flagged and slowed down. So I threw together a few cute faux sparklers using cut straws, washi tape and gold ric-a-rac.

...in whipping up $1.00 wall art. For reals. I'll share tomorrow! (Update: I lied. I got a puppy, which took precedence over wall art. Cross my heart I'll share on Wednesday!)

...in dreading the start of school. Will pay money for one more week of summer.

...in getting Gabe the perfect b-day gift. He'll be 35, which feels like a landmark b-day, so I've really gotta knock it out of the park this year.

...in outing yourself as a closet Save-to-Desktoper. My name is Bethany, and I'm a serial Save to Desktoper. Whew.

...in eating an entire slice of cake from the grocery store bakery to celebrate...being alive? Tolerable temperatures? A holiday weekend? Screw it. Who needs a reason. It was delicious.

...that everything could use a little glitter. And then a little more.

Muchas gracias for your support on this post. And just to clarify due to questions: the blog (which shall remain nameless, because I don't want to play dirty!) didn't blatantly steal my photos. But, the photo + project credit provided linked to another blog that had used my work. Certainly not cruel-hearted theft--I'm sure lack of credits or miscredits rarely are--but this type of crediting is still part of the problem. It creates a murky string of sources, rather than a crisp, direct credit to the original source.

But on a sunny note, I've also found so, so many bloggers that are careful and passionate about crediting! It all comes back to the "blogs are like homes" analogy. Most people are very kind and careful about being in each others' spaces or borrowing each others' things. And for that I'm happy!


the tale of two bloggers.

This post is a little more buttoned up than usual. Please don't find me a snob.

For the first time ever in my blogging history, I am nervous to press "Publish". But this little pesky problem has been buzzing for the past few weeks. I tried to push it away because I am afraid to write about it, afraid that it might be read in an unkind light and that indirectly I'll leave another blogger feeling awful. But I keep discovering more and more of this. It's like an epidemic! Please know that this post comes from a place of warmth, of wanting us all to play fair. And that I'm not attempting to shame those who simply didn't know. And so I shall start by telling you a tale.
Once upon a time there were two bloggers.  
Although they did not know of each other, they were both beautiful, creative and inspired girls. They loved to sit at their desks, white desks with vintage pencil cups, to write beautiful things. Each girl connected with friends from worlds away and added something wonderful to their niche of the blogosphere. 
One afternoon, Blogger A spent the day setting up a photo scene outside. It was sweltering, but she was determined. She set up her camera and took a few test shots. Swapped out different props. She stood on wobbly stools to snap different angles. Waited for the sun to go down a little further. Took more photos. Then she uploaded all the photos to her computer, combed through them and meticulously edited them in Photoshop. She then uploaded the photos to her blog and wrote all about the images and her day.  
That same day, Blogger B finds these pictures on Pinterest. She loves the way Blogger A's photos pair with what she has to say that day, saves them to her computer and uploads them to blogger. She writes something desperately lovely about her world. She can't quite remember where she saw these photos...so she posts them without listing the original source.

Both girls provided content their readers enjoyed and checked off "Blog for the day!" from their To-Do list. Blogger B saved a lot of time by not shooting her own photos. (Way to go, smart girl!) But, contrary to how it might appear, her post wasn't just hers. Someone else collected all the vintage items for that photo. Someone else toted their camera around in 90 degree weather to make sure those moments were captured. Someone else spent their Friday night editing those photos. Someone else deserves to be mentioned for what they've lent to the post.

Ah, yes. Crediting sources. When I began blogging, I didn't quite grasp that it was legally necessary to list a credit. Especially one to the original source. I just thought it was "nice", and usually did so. But I'm sure I've flubbed a few times. There's a little learning curve when you join the blogosphere--right out the gate mandatory credits didn't come to mind. In time, by reading other blogs, I understood that it wasn't just "nice"...it was what you do. A thank you for using someone's creative baby. You just do it and it takes 10 seconds. Recently, when a blog with thousands of followers used several of my photos without mentioning or directly crediting me, I was so disappointed. Mostly because a well-established blog should have known better, should have set an example for their readers.

We all have rights in the blogosphere. The right to be inspired. The right to be treated kindly. The right to connect with others. And mostly, the right to be credited when we inspire others. Being credited opens new doors--new readers come your way and with that comes new friendships, new blogs to read and so much more inspiration. Sometimes even big, big opportunities come your way because one kind soul shares your name + link.

As Bloggers...no matter how big or small, how new or old...we are responsible for following the rules. For playing nice. If a blogger loves a photo enough to post it to her blog, she will love it enough to spend 10 seconds honoring the creative mind behind it by typing a credit + inserting a link. But if she's fully aware of the need to credit, and yet repeatedly ignores the need to play nice...she clearly don't love the photo enough. And who wants to read a blog full of lukewarm feelings? 

Not me, I've decided. Not anymore.

If you're unsure of when + how to credit an image (it's okay! not long ago, I was unsure...don't feel badly!), I suggest a quick pop over to this article at Frolic!, where Chelsea clarifies what is and is not okay. Additionally, here's a super fun chart for figuring out if you should post an image. Go forth and credit, my friends! :)



I've been in this uninspired funk for the past two days where life is a little dull. Perhaps it's the winding down of summer--ticking off all the "To Dos" that I "To Didn't". It could be that school is starting up in a week, and with it comes a fresh batch of intense anxiety. Maybe it's coming down from Cloud 9, exciting vacations, visiting guests and getting engaged. Could be that I need a girls' night out. But no matter how I slice it, it comes back to one thing.

I just miss my fiance. We've knocked out two of the six months between visits...and that's exciting. Yet it seems that with every separation I have this breakdown at month #2 in which I find myself sobbing into nachos and binging on reality TV. I've Youtubed laughing babies. And baby goats. All my usual tricks, and I'm still feeling a smidge down.

Got any good pick-me-up tips? I could use them. :)


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