I am convinced there are few things on this Earth that feel better than an incredible yoga class after two hours of balls-to-the-wall cardio & strength training. All of that followed with an almost-scalding hot shower and slipping into a pair of comfy pajamas.  

 Even better? When those comfy pajamas happen to be pink striped with Eiffel Towers all over them. (At $6.90 from Forever21, I'd say they were a pretty solid purchase.)

Another feel-good moment from my day was receiving this!

 

I was on the phone with my mommy when I heard the door bell ring. Of course, my logical assumption was that it was a killer trying to break in. So I whisper to her, "hold on" and hit the floor, belly-crawling through the living room to peek out the window without the killer spotting me. (Really wish I was kidding.) Anyway, it obviously was not a maniac waiting to rip my guts open and end my life. It was the UPS man delivering a package from Jamie. It was the most adorable (and delicious) cookie bouquet I had ever seen, and it absolutely made my day. Jamie is the greatest, period. 

Yesterday I suffered what I like to refer to as one of my "ranch attacks." I am included in the portion of the population that believes ranch dressing can, and should, go on just about anything edible. I don't allow myself to indulge in it as much as I would prefer (3 meals a day, every day) but sometimes I get a craving that knows no bounds and I have to have ranch immediately.

 Popcorn dipped in ranch is pretty bomb; however, white wine is not. (But it was the only fermented thing in the house, so it was sufficient in getting me through Paranormal Activity 3.)

And that was my day.

wack/wonderful Wednesdays

 

wack

1. It's safe to say it is impossible to find lady fingers in the Triad of North Carolina. Four different grocery stores, and I am still tiramisu-less.  (A very deplorable state to be in.)
2. 4.5 liters of water makes for a pretty unproductive day.
3. I succumbed to my laziness and did not get my run in, opting instead to sit on the couch for three hours eating Cadbury Eggs. 

wonderful 

1. Accidental lens flares.
2. Being able to dine al fresco at lunch with Mommy. 61 degrees in mid-January, I can't even hate it. 
3. Making dinner for my family. Anniversary chicken, roasted sweet potato wedges, & spinach salad.
4. Wearing a whimsical skirt and getting compliments from strangers. (I had all but forgotten what those feel like. On any given day you can find me going out in public in my uniform. Yoga crops, Uggs--not proud of this, a hoodie, & a top knot. If I'm feeling really sassy, I'll put on some under-eye concealer and braid my hair, maybe a spritz of perfume. But let's be real, that's asking a bit much.) 
5. An incredibly sweet, unexpected note from my baby brother. 

two

To the boy who first made me laugh harder than any boy ever had. The boy with ears too big for his skinny frame, but possessing the kindest (and most mischievous) eyes I had ever seen. The boy who had a smile that, even at 12 years old, made me know I wanted to know him for a very long time. The boy who I grew up alongside with, never really noticing the man he had grown into until graduation night, when he kissed me and I realized that was all I would ever want. The boy who painted my world in shades I never knew existed. The boy who first made me feel emotions so strong I needed to write them down. The boy who broke my heart so badly, I thought it would never heal itself. The boy who pushed me, him, and us to be better, stronger, and more powerful in the years apart. The boy who made me literally lose my breath upon seeing him for the first time in nearly two years. The boy who lit us on fire again, on the beach of Camp Lejune. The boy who slipped a small gold band on my finger in a North Carolina courthouse, and made my heart and eyes swell to the brim with joy. 

To this boy, the boy who is my man, my husband, my OBFF, my lover, my protector, & more than my little-girl mind could have ever dreamed of in a mate: happy two year anniversary. I am so looking forward to forever.

quarter

So far so good 25!

Friday night my daddy made THE most incredible meal for my birthday dinner. Mushroom risotto, grilled shrimp, baked scallops, & grilled asparagus. I am convinced he needs to open a restaurant and make bank. For my birthday cake, my mommy made a lemon cream cheese pound cake (which, according to the scale this morning, did in fact add some pounds.) But oh, was it worth it every bite. 

Saturday night I was invited to a dinner with some of my parent's friends to celebrate another January 21st birthday (turns out, other people share your birthday. Crazy, right?) The dinner was an incredible six-course meal (or maybe it was seven? I lost count somewhere in that hazy food coma) and wine pairing. It was fabulous, and I was so pleased to have been invited. Afterwards, I came home and made a margarita recipe I found on Pinterest. It claimed these were the best margaritas, and the recipe did not disappoint. Deanna (brother Trey's lady) & I both agreed they were unparalleled. 

Birthdays really have a way of making you realize how deeply loved you are.

me: "You want to go to a show while we're in London? Jamie wants to see Wicked."

Zack: "Uh, sure I guess. But, I mean, will we be able to understand them?

me: (...silence)

Zack: "What? I've never seen a musical in another country."

London. London, England. England as in the country from which our current dialect is derived.

He provides so much unintended laughter in my life. 

Also, on a completely unrelated note, I am having real difficulty figuring out the exact color of my coat. It's more orange[ish] than red, but I'm not really comfortable classifying it as "melon." This has given me great internal strife since purchasing the coat.

I lead a very taxing life.

2011 travels

R&R

My left leg wouldn't stop twitching, my hands had gone clammy, and I was having trouble swallowing. I tried to smooth an errant wrinkle out of my polka dot sundress, and forced myself to stop fidgeting. 

 

You could pick us out, the Army wives, from a mile away in that airport. 6am on a Thursday morning, we were dressed to kill and looked as though we could burst into tears or hysterical, nervous laughter at any given moment.

The automatic doors that led from the arrivals gate opened and closed a maddening number of times before I started seeing multi-cam bags and military haircuts. Each couple I saw reunited made my heart and eyes well up. The young mother with three small children who ran full speed into her husband's embrace, the seasoned wife who was on her 6th deployment still squealed and threw her purse to the ground when her husband scooped her up, and the couple who casually walked into each others' arms, yet stood there for what seemed like eternity, refusing to let go.

I began to get panicky, as overdramatic pessimists have a tendency to do, when I saw soldier after soldier come through the gate, and Zack was nowhere to be seen. Pretty soon the arrivals gate emptied out, and I was left standing alone in my high heeled wedges and wringing hands. But just at the perfect moment, the doors swung open and I saw my husband, my husband whom I had not seen in almost seven months. His smile and air about him were as giant as I remembered, and he threw his bags theatrically to the side. He pulled me into him, and lifted me up off the floor, twirling me around and around. And honestly, I'm not sure if my feet ever touched the ground again, in those 15 days of perfection.