Respectably Lazy

Sometimes I feel like there are two kinds of summer. One is the version I've had so far - hinged on countdowns to big events, concerts, and parties - like you're trying to get in as much summer action as possible before the fleeting season fades into fall. That's what I've been doing so far, and it's been fantastic - I've managed to see close to 20 concerts (thanks to Bonnaroo), host an all-weekend gathering, take mini vacation to the lake, and go to three baseball games.

But considering we JUST moved here 2 months ago and have been constantly on the go since move-in day, for the rest of summer - which, according to the actual calendar, doesn't even begin until tomorrow - I'd like things to slow down a bit. Some things I've had on my list haven't happened due to slight over-planning of my weekends.

With Darrell starting a new job that has a more varied schedule, we're leaving all our time wide open to be spent at home in St. Louis, in an effort to get to know our new home a little better. We're looking forward to spending some time being tourists of our own town.

Our list of "slow summer" to-dos:
1. Sit outside listening our way through the newest additions to our record collection, letting the sound come through our screen door.
2. Slowly add to my herb garden (since I'm now mildly confident in my ability to keep flowers alive.)
3. Read through my summer book list! I canceled our cable...and was a little disappointed when it never actually turned off. I was kind of looking forward to seeing what we'd do if we didn't have any TV to watch!
4. Make more use of our community pool, laying out by myself all afternoon completing the previous task. I could spend hours reading while sitting by the pool.
5. Free concerts under the Arch
6. Go to the Soulard Farmer's Market on a Saturday
7. Take walks after dinner
8. Garage sale hunt for patio furniture - I need somewhere to dine al fresco!

"Maybe if they all could be combined - art, rock and fashion. Those were always my favorite things."-Stephen Sprouse

bonnaroo, feel the magic

I'm like a kid on Christmas morning. We leave at 11 and drive all night!

Florence, Jim James, and all those other haunting voices are calling my name.

"Maybe if they all could be combined - art, rock and fashion. Those were always my favorite things."-Stephen Sprouse

"It's all happening...." - Penny Lane

Bonnaroo countdown is on: according to my app-7 days, 2 hours, and 21....20....19 minutes until Centeroo gates open and I'll be dancing to the music. If all goes as planned I expect my trip to look a lot like the pictures above. And if you're coming along, take a look at these and start dreaming.

"Maybe if they all could be combined - art, rock and fashion. Those were always my favorite things."-Stephen Sprouse

the.times.they.are.a.changin

I started packing today - a process that always stirs up silly feelings about memories and "how life will never be the same" as it is right now. I always have mixed feelings about moving, because there's always the thought of what you're leaving behind. That isn't so much tangible things when what you're leaving is Charleston, IL - our house is crumbling down around us a little more every day, and the only activity here is Wal-Mart. Charleston always felt a little bit like a "pause" in life - Darrell was still in school a year behind, and I was already working full time, albeit in a college town. Some days it felt like we had only halfway started life. Monday thru Friday meant work, while Saturday and Sunday meant frat parties and kegs. Leaving here together, we're really going to be on the same page.

Still, when I think about the intangibles - the fact that there will never be another "first house" again, I get a little nostalgic. This will always be the place where we learned to live together.

We have a lot to look forward to in our second home. While our first house was as cheap as possible, the kind of rental where at least one thing is always broken, our second place together is new and shiny, and we'll be the first ones to ever make it our own. The preparation for moving is daunting, it seems like I've been dreaming about moving to the city forever, and now it's so close to happening that we are really getting excited. We have lots of friends close to St. Louis, and too many plans for summer already - trips to the lake, trying out Bikram yoga, the farmer's market on Saturdays, recently opened wine bars, and (probably going to be our most frequent summer activity) baseball games at Busch stadium. What better time to go to a new city and explore than right at the start of summer.

All this crazyness is going to pay off - life wouldn't be any fun at all without change.

"Maybe if they all could be combined - art, rock and fashion. Those were always my favorite things."-Stephen Sprouse

small.victories

So, today is a big day for me. I completed a personal goal today. You see...I love braids. Yes, prepare yourselves, all guy friends reading this - I'm about to get incredibly girly.

I grew my hair out so that I could wear more braids. French braids, Heidi braids, braided buns, my own hair braided and pinned across as a headband, long side braids, you name it. I must've braided ten strangers' hair at Bonnaroo (music festival) this past year, and I literally plan to hang a sign offering to braid hair for $5 on my tent his year. But try as I might, I could not make a damn fishtail braid. My hair would end up a tangled mess after 10 or so tries and I would storm out of the bathroom with a topknot bun. So today, when I was reading the Free People blog and they were gushing over Sasha Pivarova's pretty fishtail braid from their April catalog, I was just irritated by it - until I watched their video tutorial, in which a woman completes a long fishtail braid with only two hands! And here I thought you needed five.

It's like magic. Here's to small victories.

i'm wearing: top-forever21, jeans-gap1969, moccasins-minnetonka, jewelry-lowluv&forever21

"Maybe if they all could be combined - art, rock and fashion. Those were always my favorite things."-Stephen Sprouse