festival season

It is my favorite time of year - festival season!  This time of year is perfect for the single ladies as the men walk around in the latest GQ style, the booze is flowing and evening porch sitting is almost expected.

It is also a time for budding romances and bad decisions...

The season kicked off last weekend and looks like it will be going strong for a while.  This year started with a bang as we scored VIP tickets - meaning cheap beer, sort skirts, sunshine and late night pizza. 

As with every spring love is in the air.  Everywhere you look everyone is in love to the point where it is almost gross - people walking around holding hands, kissing mid-conversation, giggling, and Barry White all play a big part of spring.  As the weather warms up this love either grows into something or people realize they made some bad porch-drinking decisions.

The truth is - I am in love with love.  I can't get enough of it...

I love the butterflies and hand-holding and over-the-top mush found in the movies.  I love the giddiness that comes with those first few weeks of dating (and I miss the note passing "Do you like me? Check YES or NO" of loves from long ago.

That is why festival season is so great - you get to venture out and enjoy being in love with everything, every weekend for weeks on end!  You get to fall in love with your city, watch new love budding in the air, eat corn dogs (who doesn't love that?!) and fall in love with love, over and over! 

So, here's to festival season.  May it be filled with endless laughter, hand-holding, flowing dresses, first kisses, and bad decisions that we don't regret the next day.  Here's to being in love with spring. 

crawfish and my future husband

This weekend I was invited to a good ol' fashioned crawfish boil.  Unsure of what to expect I packed by cooler with vodka-lemonade (which in reality was just a big ol' bag of vodka, water and some crystal light), called my best friend and prepped for what was to be a fabulous evening with strangers.

It should be noted that I called by best friend at 2PM, I was showered, pretty and had the dog walked by 2:30PM and was out on the porch waiting from him by 2:35PM.  When I called to say I was ready he wasn't even dressed yet.

As luck would have it I had a chair, a bag of vodka and a cup, so I justified a 2:35PM cocktail by telling myself someone had to sample the vodka before the party...

One cocktail later my friend showed up and we went on our way.  Traffic was horrid and we finally arrived at the party, vodka in-hand, around 4PM.  There was already tons of crawfish piled on a table, with all sorts of veggies, a cooler of beer and a delightful strawberry-basil-lemonade for my wonderful bag of vodka.

Having never attempted to eat a crawfish I naturally dove right in.  Snapping tails, peeling shell and ending up with the tiniest piece of protein I have ever seen.  I am pretty convinced you burn more calories getting the suckers open than you do actually consuming them.  After a dozen or-so I grew bored of the creatures and ventured to sit in the sun with a cocktail in hand.

And then a southern gentlemen sat at the table of crawfish and taught me the art of eating a freshly boiled crawfish.

Who knew shellfish could be a turn-on?!  He never peeled the shells, he simply snapped the tiny lobster-like crustaceans and sucked.  Tail, brains and even claws.  Someone noticed me staring and asked what was so interesting - I giggled and pointed out the man, his pile of shells and told her to just watch.  Soon all of us were mesmerized.  We must have watched him for three cocktails as we giggled and blushed over his crawfish skills.

And that, dear friends, is how I decided my future husband must be able to properly eat a crawfish.  (Thinking about it still makes me blush)

of number eighty eight

He was a football player and when they named his position they sure got it right - tight end.  I was a sophomore in college, hanging out with our football team's center and he was fully aware of my crush.  I can still remember what I wore that night - a white tank top that showed off my toned shoulders, cropped jeans from Ambercrombie, black rocket dogs and my hair was in perfect Miami curls.  The center and I had ventured out with my roommates and were at the local hot spots.

The night was full of giggling and flirting. 

The center and I danced, joked about life and what we would be when we were old.  We might have even solved some of the world's problems that night.  As we went to leave from one location I was sparkling and enjoying the Miami heat and great company.

And then I met the tight end.

He was tall, blonde, perfect blue eyes and overall scrumptious.  As he walked towards us I am pretty sure I felt my knees go weak (and being in sandals it couldn't have been me being wobbly on high heels, it had to be love).  The center said he had someone he wanted me to meet and as I smiled and went to shake his hand my alter-ego took over.

And then I bit him...

That's right folks - this "man of my dreams" first interaction with me was me nibbling on his hand - I am sure he just looked so scrumptious it was inevitable...  I remember giggling like a school-girl and saying "yep, that just happened" but I have no other explanation for my actions that night.  A silly friendship grew out of that bite, my crush continued, the football team continued to win and I had a wonderfully embarrassing story to laugh at for the rest of my life.

And then he went pro, got tattoos, is now married and I am single, sparking and sharing my silly story with the world.

While the girl with the school-girl crush was a little devastated to learn of his recent nuptials, I am sure it is for the best - he would have grown tired of my sparkle and I would have grown tired of his foul mouth and bachelor ways.

serendipity in 26.2 miles

Me running a marathon happened rather by accident, and in 208 days I will again accidentally run 26.2 miles with my best friend.

But let's be honest - it's 26.2 miles of men in uniform as we run around Washington DC for the Marine Corps Marathon. My decision to run a marathon happened rather serendipitously and was caused by a breakup.

Four years ago a dear friend and sorority sister came back into my life. I believe the email read "just broke up with boyfriend, devastated, will you run a marathon with me?" There was no was I could say no. Out of marathon training - which consists of giving up your Friday nights so you can partake in a long run Saturday morning - grew a priceless friendship.

Living in separate states we emailed horror stories of training, talked eachother out of pizza cravings and laughed a lot at eachother. One might be curious how I was talked into running for hours and hours - simply put, my friend introduced me to vodka. You apparently don't have to worry about vodka calories like you do beer calories. And that, my friends, is where my love affair with vodka started (to see how it nearly ended please read last post).

I, of course, was single at the time and was convinced I'd fall in love with a Marine, preferably before I wanted to die around mile 25.2.

Months of training, endless laughs and a gazillion tears later we took on the nation's Capitol. I never did fall in love with a Marine...

Four years later this marathon has reconnected me with friends, pushed my focus during breakups to more important things and given way to some awesome celebrations. In 208 days we return - both a little stronger, both single and both willing to chase after love for 26.2 miles. (And to celebrate that I'm going to treat myself to a porch drink - vodka of course).

vodka confessions: adele

Somewhere between Valentine's Day and my 30th birthday this year I had the most fabulous vodka water cocktail, and then another and another and thus "vodka confessions" was born.

The night is a little fuzzy so I'll start at the beginning...

It was a love that happened very fast and was rather intense. Just like Alice I fell into the rabbit hole and continues to fall - hitting "I love you" and spiraling when the love stopped. He was older, divorced. I was young and carefree. I have no regrets about our time together - love that happens that intense and fast is destined to fail and I'm sure if I'd paid attention to my horoscope it would have told me the exact same thing. Eventually I hit the ground, single, and dusted myself off - ready for the next bout of love to hit.

And then Adele happened.

In the years since our breakup we have stayed in touch - checking in here and there. It isn't a friendship but it is what I assume is a sense of what real love is once it's "over". He has since moved into a creepy cabin in the hills with a new love and I have stayed in the city with my dog. Somewhere between Valentine's day and my 30th birthday I was no longer ok with this scenario...

And then vodka happened.

I should mention that it was a typical night. I'd enjoyed a run. Had salmon for dinner. Watched a silly romantic comedy and then I woke up the next morning and texted one of my best friends: "I think I Facebook messaged my ex a YouTube video of Adele" I had in fact Facebook messaged said video. It is probably wise to mention we aren't Facebook friends. Not only did I have to search for this fabulous video about moving on from a broken heart, I had to Facebook stalk said ex. The best part was my message with the video: "Don't read into this, but I kind of look like her"

Oh vodka and Adele - you are horrible friends. If I didn't love you both so much we would be divorced by now.

My only option was to laugh at myself, naturally. My friends laughed with me and the ex had to have laughed too - he wrote back to my message but I'm too chicken to read it. When asked how much vodka I'd had that night I had to, pitifully, admit that I had no idea...it was somewhere between dancing to Diana Ross and singing to Adele.

That day vodka taught me that if you can't laugh at yourself you have no business laughing at all - life lessons like these make me glad I didn't break up with vodka (or Adele).

of giraffes and cocktails

Last week we were invited to an after hours event at the zoo where cocktails met wild animals and we got to attempt to feed four very sweet looking giraffes.

Naturally I wore a safari inspired outfit, in hopes that it would attract attention from a very tall giraffe. The type of attention we received wasn't what I has in mind - the giraffes ignored us, stuck their tongues out and overall had nothing to do with us.

Thankfully there was free flowing wine...

As we wandered and giggled at the animals we met a rhino, were teased by a lions roar, and encountered two humping tortoises. Laughter filled the zoo and we chatted about Marc Jacobs, mouse slippers, the rules of dating, Facebook unfriending and my friends' desire for me to date someone just for the festival perks. Wine kept finding our glass, the giraffes kept teasing us and the night ended with us giggling and texting photos of the randy tortoises to people - including a tv host with a silly caption.

The funnest part of the evening was realizing my friends and I enjoy eachother just as we are - flawed, with silly stories and endless laughter. The giraffes, and men in my life have some serious competition - but more on that later.

star gazing

By far my favorite star is the sun - it makes me happy, colors my hair a perfect blonde, tans my skin and makes the day a better place.  This past Friday I forgot about the office and just went out to enjoy the day - that giant sequin in the sky seems to make every little worry melt.

Tonight I went out with the dog, my sunglasses and my iPod - this iPod is by far the coolest gift I have ever received, it is loaded with found playlists to narrate my life, and let me tell you every song is spot-on.  We ran hard for a mile or-so, stopped for water, ran for another mile, each step motivated by a fun song from the 80's.  When we made it up the huge hill where I normally stop for a celebratory dance party I looked at the dog and plopped down in the sweet (itchy grass) to watch the sun set. 

A I lay on the ground in "snow angel" pose, probably looking like I was dying to everyone walking by, I couldn't help but giggle.  A year ago we rescued my dog - since then I have been dumped, I have broken up with people, I have fought with my family, I have struggled to make it as the adult I want to be, and even just last week I was un-friended on Facebook because I liked a guy's post about brunch (more on that later).  Now, I am laying in the grass, without a care in the world.

As I type this I realize that perhaps I was star gazing at the sun for too long - but glad that a giant sequin can make me giggle just like it did when I was little.