24

Feb

Ventfest: For The Love of a Crush

I was talking with my friend this morning and she mentioned that she’s only had eight crushes in her life (she can name them all) and her first crush was in fifth grade.

I kind of guffawed. I’ve had something like 80 crushes in my lifetime and my first crush (whose name I–shocker–can’t remember) was in preschool. We were both toe head blondes with matching bowl cuts and we would run around the playground holding hands and playing tag. It was true love.

When I realized that not everyone is as boy-crazy as I am, I did some self-reflecting. And I am one of those people that just love falling in love. Or at least the idea of it.

Before I bury myself, I should add a disclaimer that I have an incredible boyfriend whom I love to pieces. And I’m speaking about crushes in the abstract and from my experience for the last umpteen years of being single, not about any crush I have now. But aformentioned amazing boyfriend is like a crush times ten… everything that is wonderful about crushes is ten times better when they make the crush-to-boyfriend transition.

But (in the abstract), crushes are amazing. A true crush gives me reason to wake up in the morning and get dolled up. When I have a crush, I walk a little taller in case he ever happens to see.

My favorite are the crushes that you never actually talk to (I’m 12, I know). Like sexurity guard, for those who remember that flustercluck. The kind that you hold eye contact with for just a second longer than normal… It’s fun because it’s the most immature, goofy behavior.

I guess that’s what it is.. Crushes are fun. They’re all coyness and games without the potential risk a relationship entails (though greater risk means greater reward). A relationship is better, I have to say. But when I’m too busy or poor or uninterested in a relationship, a crush is fun. It’s long looks and flirty texts and a little harmless Internet stalking… It’s a little taste of romance, that feeling of maybe potentially loving some stranger. It’s the idea and the dreaming up someone without actually dealing with the awkwardness of talking to them. It’s all games.

At least until I spill a latte on the poor guy.

relationships

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22

Feb

Today’s Obsession: Tea

photo source: Favim.com

I haven’t written in a while because I’ve been (a) ridiculously busy, and (b) sick with the Bubonic Plague. But I want to pause for a moment and talk about today’s obsession (been a while since I did that).

I freaking love tea. I love it hot, I love it cold, sweetened or unsweetened. It’s like the most incredible beverage ever… maybe even better than my dad’s home made foamaliscious lattes… Maybe.

I’ve long had an obsession with green tea. I like how it makes me feel refreshed and clean and healthy. And in the summer, I can rarely resist the temptation of a venti iced green tea lemonade.

But recently I’ve also started drinking Earl Grey in lieu of coffee. While I have my green tea plain, I spruce up my Earl Grey a touch: honey, milk, and maybe a touch of cinnamon for a little added spice.

Regardless, I just love love love tea, and the way it warms my heart and soul and sends my brain into a caffeine-induced frenzy. I love the sound that my tea kettle makes when it’s screaming for me from the stove. And there’s just something subtly romantic about a simple cup of tea. It’s one of those indulgent simple little pleasure that I just can’t get over.

Scones aren’t bad either. Obsessed.

musings/Uncategorized

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10

Feb

What I’m Reading: Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese

Cutting for Stone. By Abraham Verghese. VINTAGE.

I have this theory… Oftentimes, I opt to read nonfiction books because they are easy to relate to, easy to get through, and because I think that nonfiction books are more consistently good.

But if I’m being honest, fiction is my true love. Though some novels are too dense or too unimportant, un-relatable, some are extraordinary. Fiction books may not be as consistent, but when they’re good, they’re great.

And every once in a while, a novel tend to sneak up and surround me in its quiet embrace. What starts as simply another book turns into a mild obsession. I read while I walk to work, I read on the train, I read while hanging out with my friends. I carry the book around me even when I’m not reading it. Without it, I feel like I’m missing a limb.

Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese is equal parts comforting and lovey-dovey, but also harshly realistic and honest about the mistakes of fate. And while it took me more than a month to finish (Eek!), I blame working weird hours and not the book itself.

It begins in Ethiopia with the births of two conjoined twins, and follows one—Marion—through his loss, his love, his naivety, struggle, and his journey home—wherever that may be. It’s a carefully crafted, “Hero’s Journey”-esque book, rich with historic detail (real and imagined) and personal experience. The author, himself a doctor from Ethiopia spent years interviewing and researching a variety of subjects, and his thorough work is evident.

But what takes Cutting for Stone to the level of greatness isn’t the careful compiling of historical facts; it’s the careful compiling of sentences.

Sometimes the words in his book read more like poetry than narrative, which is exactly what makes the book so engrossing. In his “Acknowledgements,” Verghese credits many phrases to authors, poets, experiences, even Shakespeare. He put in just as much work an effort into the crafting and presentation of his words as to his story—something, as a writer, I can’t help but be in awe of.

Marion’s story, written by anyone else, would be sad but forgettable, good. But paired with Verghese’s carefully chosen diction, it’s great.

 

books

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07

Feb

Before and…

I’ve officially been accepted into the Paris study abroad program at the American University of Paris next fall, and all I can think about is furniture. If that made no sense, it’s because it doesn’t make sense. I’ve recently gone through the process of signing onto my friend’s lease, and will be moving into her cozy little apartment upon returning from Paris. I’ve been feasting my eyes on the renovated DIY projects on mommy blogs and apartment therapy, and feel so inspired. I’ve already starting pinning ideas and compiling a mental list of all the things I hope to do to the new apartment.

In past apartments, I’ve either moved around too much, or I haven’t had the space to really make someplace feel like home. So with this next apartment, that’s what I’m searching for: home. I want to paint the walls a warm tan in the living room and kitchen, and a refreshing grey in the bedroom; I want to outfit the bedroom with white bedding and furnishings (including painting the unfinished windows and giving my 300 lb dresser a rustic makeover). I’ve lobbied for new floors and am planning on bleaching and resealing the grout in the kitchen and bathroom; I’ll move in my wonderful faux suede couches and fill the entire living area (which boasts one window in the kitchen) with lighting and pops of color—I’m thinking plants, flowers, replacing lightbulbs, and battery operated lights under cabinets.

I’m thrilled at the idea of sharing a kitchen and a bathroom with only one other person, even if there’s no dishwasher (yay, paper plates!). I’ve even been tossing around the idea of somehow DIYing the countertops. I’m renting, so my options are limited, but even a high-gloss white layer of paint would look better than what’s in there currently. I was also thinking of constructing a new countertop of wood that I could shellack or paint and literally just put right on top of the current kitchen island. Like a slipcover, but for a counter. Thoughts?

I’m getting ahead of myself… by about 10 months, to be exact. But it’s an exciting new venture. Check out some inspiration for my bedroom! I’d like to think that the grey can actually warm up so much white. I’ll need to stock up on bleach though.

Photo Source: Country Living

musings

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