Pas de One

I went on a vacation by myself in May 2008. I was studying in Aix and found a free airline ticket from London back to Marseille. All I had to buy was the ticket there! (With taxes, though, it was a wash.) So I was walking around this city all by myself. Two years before I had studied there. It was fun to go back to my old places, but even more fun to go to new places. I spent a shit ton of money, but it was worth it.

One night, I decided to go see the Royal Ballet. I kept going back and forth and couldn't decide what to do. I was super poor and found it difficult to justify £17 or however much the ticket was. But I did, telling myself I could make the money back later. I walked into the theater and this is what I saw. The ballet was lovely, of course, but I almost preferred the pre-show view. Looking at London society in Her Majesty's Royal Opera House. I thought I would feel weird going by myself, but I really didn't. How's that for security!

And it feels good!

Holy Shit. This picture is everything good: best friend, beautiful day, beach, books and vanilla wafers. I think I want to quit working every summer, then find a job when it starts to get cold again. Hey, I could be a teacher. I could teach...kevin-ology.

Thé sur les Tuesdays

When I was living in France, I had tea every Tuesday with Madame Marineau, my "host-mom" of sorts. I just miss those little dates so much; every Tuesday since I left has paled in comparison. So today, when I was having an especially rainy, sad Tuesday, I just thought about what Tuesdays used to be, and I got happier. I had my own tea this afternoon with a brownie, and I spoke French in my head.

If you want to know more, I can tell you all about my living situation in France--it was simply amazing. But until then, I just want to say that it was completely life-changing. Mme and I got along so well. She had had students before me, but, she says, no one ever knocked on her door and asked to spend time with her. I ended up meeting most of her family and we all became close. They are more than welcome anytime in New York to visit me, although I know that idea is far fetched. I, however, will definitely visit Aix again and see Mme Martineau. Within a year. I will probably cry and rip up my return ticket. Serious.

Guacamole Green

(In college...)

Shortly after moving into my apartment in Bloomington, I went to buy paint. The tenants before must have been disgusting and had bad taste. Their existence needed to be erased, painted over. Easier said than done. Do you know how many colors are out there? Thousands! So I took home tons of samples and considered each one carefully: examining, picturing, reflecting. I had a system going until I realized they named their colors. Within one minute my mind had been made up: guacamole green. 

Purchased. Painted. Dried. Adored.

It was the most perfect room. This picture is of Karen sleeping in my bed. She tends to sleep all over the place, but every time she came over, she had at least a one minute siesta there. The room was huge, had a little roof patio outside the window, and was like a sanctuary. I miss it now more than ever.

(As a grown-up...)

When I picked up the keys to our new apartment today, I kind of lost my breath because I forgot how small my new room would be. I am so happy with the location and the building though, so I am concentrating on that. New York landlords are more strict, and I don't think I'll be painting this place because I don't want to paint it back. I will, however, be filling the walls with my art collection. I can concentrate on that for now. Maybe I'll try to lose a couple of pounds, too, so the room will seem bigger?

Pet your pet

Amanda and I signed the lease on our new apartment today. We now live on 13th between 2nd and 3rd Aves. That's a pretty amazing location, especially considering this is our first apartment in the city. At the lease, I asked about pets. If you want a little friend, you have to ask, send a picture and pay a $200 fee. So I would have to plan on living there a while and really want a baby. 

But then it got me to thinking about my pets. Scorsby, left, and Maxwell. We also have another dog, Clifton. He's a great, big Newfoundland; however my mom got him while I was in France, and now I am in New York. I've only hung out with him for July and most of August, so the deep bond I share with these two doesn't yet exist. Scorsby and Maxwell have such personality. I far prefer the little dog. Every time you come home, he gets so excited: cries at the window when you pull up to the drive way, runs to the car door to greet you. Sometimes he even pees a little. It's not every day someone will just urinate because they are so happy to see you. 

However, I love this dog most on sunny days in sun patches: he just lays there and pretends to be deaf. I'll take him outside with me to get the mail. But when I'm opening the post, I realize he decided the grass by the house was better company. So he'll lay there flat on his back in the hot, summer sun. You have to pick him up and take him inside otherwise he would just stay put. I miss Scorsby.

Working 9 to 5

I actually work 9:30 to at least 6h30. But I do like my job. Here is my little office. I sit on the left, and Tim usually sits on the right. Starting 1 November we will have a bigger, more awesome office. I met with our new Design Assistant today because he is actually an interior designer at heart. Before he really starts working for Tim, I'm asking him to help design our new office, giving us (me) tons of storage and endless limits for organization. I am excited, but I will miss this little office. It's amazing!

This is such a random, unofficial first job. My parents are flipping out though. (I'm not going to lie, it's an added bonus.)

A Piece of Cake

I hope no one else ever thought to put Piet Mondrian paintings on a cake. This has been one of my best ideas to date. I graduated from college, moved back to America from France and had a party to celebrate. I can't think of a better marriage for the two occasions. 

People were hesitant to eat them, so I had to cut the tableau and encourage people to eat art. Picking out the cake was amazing. We went to the best bakery and they asked what flavor I would like. My choices were vanilla, chocolate, yellow, white . . . wait. When did colors become flavors? I asked. Her answer came as little tiny cakes on a plate. I tried about 7 combinations and fell in love with them all. I couldn't pick just one, so my mom compromised and said we could do 3 smaller cakes as opposed to one huge one. 

I think I will get married one day so I can have another cake tasting. Heck, you only have to be engaged to do that! My new plan is to get engaged several times.

Something Pretty

Because I think my heart may be hurt (but not broken) tonight, I want to put this up now. I bought a bottle of red wine and have some Lindt chocolate close by.

I took this picture in 2006 in Paris. It was my first trip outside of the country. I wanted to go with a friend to Paris for Spring Break--but she cancelled and I still wanted to go. So I went by myself and just explored. I was just 19. While digital cameras were readily available, I still didn't have one; I bought a couple of disposables. If memory serves me correct, this was the last picture I took on the entire roll. It's nice to end on a high note. In life, and photography.

Little Door

This is my house. To be clear, the little door on the tree stump is not where I live, but this is in the garden at my family's home in Indiana. Shortly after I moved to New York, my mom sent me this picture. She explained how she had a $10 credit to catalogue she often buys garden things from and they had this little door. So she got it, chiseled out space for the door and cut flag stones to act as steps to the imaginary home. It took all afternoon during a hot, summer Sunday. I think she got sunburnt.

This is the reason I love my mom. It also may explain why I am the way I am.