Happy Election Day!! Through a combination of election anxiety, wedding stress, and waaaaaay too much Halloween candy, I caught a nasty chest cold A WEEK BEFORE MY WEDDING!
Just my luck right?
In these final few days before my wedding (3 to be exact), I’m tying up loose ends and nursing myself back to health. I also found that if you heat up a mug of apple cider and add a few dashes of cinnamon, you will forget everything going on in the world for a good 45-60 seconds as you sip a cup of pure fall magic. Seriously, it’s the best. And it helps with sore throats.
I recently tried my hand at homemade nut milk. But not just any nut milk, because if you’re going to do something why not go in over your head, right? I landed on chocolate hazelnut milk- aka “Nutella Milk”. I was pretty surprised at how easy it was to make and also how freaking accomplished I felt afterwards and also how shocking fast this disappeared from our fridge. Not proud, but it was worth it.
A few things- once your hazelnuts soak, it only takes a few minutes to whip up. And by soaking them, they soften up, which means you can use this with any blender.
The only issue I came across was what to do with all the pulp. You get a lot of it out of this recipe. It feels wasteful to toss it, but I haven’t been able to find any good uses for it. If you know of any, let me know!
Combine all ingredients in a high power blender for 2 minutes
Strain mixture through a nut milk bag
Put in adorable containers with a lid
Because you’re using real, natural ingredients, this mixture will separate in your fridge. Don’t freak out. Give it a little shake before you pour and all will be well.
I don’t love where I live. I like my tiny, historic home and the proximity to friends, family and Targets, but I don’t love my city.
I don’t love how it sprawls across the desert, stretching itself too thin. I don’t love the unimaginative housing developments and the Stepford track houses, each one identical and packed together like cigarettes in a box. I don’t love the barrage of sunny days that mock and taunt while they slowly drive you insane with endless repetition.
I came to the desert two months shy of my 14th birthday. It’s now been 14 years. I could have moved when I was 18, or 19, or 20, or any time between then any now, but there’s always been an excuse- money, family, college, fear, laziness.
And there will always be a reason not to do something. But the days are going to pass, regardless of what we do during them. We can either wallow in our wants or learn to be grateful for what we have. These two dichotomies aren’t mutually exclusive though. We can appreciate what and who surrounds us while still searching for home.
When my future husband and I dream of where we want to wake-up each day, we imagine ourselves surrounded by woodsy mountains and thick foliage and smoky rain. Sunlight filters through the leaves and lays dappled on a mossy forest floor. There’s room to grow food and animals and babies and dreams and everyday holds the opportunities to learn to rely on the land and each other and ourselves. It’s a far cry from the sparse and parched suburb we live in now.
But there’s beauty in all things, waiting to be seen. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of changing your perspective, like gaining a new angle on an old image. It gives us hope to create actionable steps to achieve the life we want for ourselves and our family. But in the mean time, while we wait for our plans to unfold, we’ve decided to try to love where we live.
This book that speaks about this exact topic. I look forward to being consumed by it for the next few days. I really hope I can make the most of my desert home and love it for what it is rather than resenting it for what it isn’t.
The other day, I was catching up with an old friend over happy hour wine and bruschetta downtown. We were talking life, goals, history, hopes and eventually love. And she asked me something no one else has.
“So why are you getting married?”
My first thought was “Ummm, isn’t it obvious? I’m getting married for the same reason millions of other people get married.” I was taken back by the obviousness of it all. But the longer it sat with me the deeper it settled… why was I getting married?
“Ya know, we’re in love and we want to take advantage of the legal protections it affords.”
Bullshit. I mean, not total bullshit. Getting married has loads of emotional, financial, and legal perks (I for one am particularly thrilled about him being unable to testify against me in court ;). But I knew that wasn’t the real reason. On my way home this question kept shadowing me, refusing to back down until I was able to articulate this feeling I couldn’t shake. And eventually, I had it.
I’m marring him because he deserves to be my husband.
As completely arrogant and self-righteous as that sounds, let me explain.
This man is the best man I’ve ever met. He’s creative and imaginative and so so intelligent. He challenges me mentally and isn’t afraid to spar and debate. He’s articulate in a way that I find fascinating and refreshing. He senses when something is wrong before I do and helps me work through it. He seems to know when to push me and when to tease me and when to stop me and when to take my waist and dance with me in the kitchen. He loves my nerdy, dorky antics. He’s tall and handsome (re: smokin hot) and I never feel as safe as when I’m with him. He makes me feel beautiful and treasured and worthy of it all.
Without his conscious doing, he’s helping me to become a better person and a better partner, a partner who communicates her needs in a healthy way and truly listens when it’s someone else’s turn. He makes me want to become a better everything- girlfriend, writer, artist, friend, daughter, sister, aunt etc. He believes in me even when I don’t believe in myself. He is dedicated to me and our future family and the life goals we have, both as individuals and as a team. I want to be worthy of his love. I want to give him all of the support and humor and joy and life that he gives me every day. He deserves that. He is unlike any other and I want him to have a place in my life unlike any other.
This past Sunday, my closest friend and MOH threw me a bridal shower that was so incredibly magical and thoughtful…I’m still reeling from the beauty and fun of it all.
Two days after I told everyone I was engaged, she started scheming and planning, that little darling devil. I wasn’t too crazy on the idea of a shower, but she was adamant that I be celebrated. That’s one of the reasons I love her the most. She insists on making others feel special even when they don’t feel deserving of it. I agreed, but under two conditions- no games and no gifts. When she stopped laughing, she countered. And after much compromise, we came to an agreement- one traditional game and guests will bring their favorite love story or favorite book about love. Win/win.
For two months, this girl planned and I mean PLANNED. She swore my fiance to secrecy to get his help (which he managed to do despite my inquisitions). She painted, created, and Pinterested like a BOSS. She even managed to buy accessories without my noticing WHILE WE WERE TOGETHER. If you can’t tell, she’s amazing and crafty and more than I deserve.
Today is the last day of September. It’s also a black moon, which scientists say won’t occur again until July 2019. It’s also six weeks until my wedding. I can’t help but think where I’ll be in 2019. Or who I’ll be. Or who I’ll be with. But I’m very much looking forward to finding out.
I met my future husband online in November of 2015. For our first date, he took me to a vegetarian restaurant because he got that “crunchy vibe” off me. I was hooked. Three months later we exchanged “I love yous”. Six months later he moved in. Eight months later he proposed (at a Modest Mouse concert no less). And three weeks later we booked a cozy little venue for the anniversary of that first date. Which is in 6 weeks. That’s a wedding planned in four months.
It’s crazy how quickly things can change. In a single moment, your whole is altered- a swipe, a signature, an I do… Life seems to be a series of big build ups that culminate in one precious moment. Decisions we thinks are minuscule can end up having the most profound effects on our lives. It’s only in hindsight that we pinpoint the instant that changed everything.
I think back to those moments and revel in them. I’m in love with those moments. I’m so exuberantly happy with myself for making those decisions that, at the time, seemed so insignificant. I can be so hard on myself and unforgiving, but when I think back to my life changing moments, I’m a proud mama bear of my past self. It gives me hope that my future self can make some pretty awesome choices to. I’m very much looking forward to the next black moon.
