Its different than I thought.

Until about yesterday I thought friendship was based on having things in common- sense of humor, hobbies, yadda yadda. And then, standing next to probably my closest friend, it clicked. Those things help, for sure, but more vital to our relationship than anything else is the sheer amount of time clocked.

The thing is, Sarah and I didn't really intend to be friends. Its not that we avoided it or disliked each other, but we didn't seek each other out either. We ended up living together because Sarah was friends with someone I was friends with. Those two in-between friends flaked out of the apartment and we ended up sharing a fridge without them. Then we ended up dating guys who were living together too. More overlapping time spent. Then we were with each other for the break ups with both those guys. That's when it got real. The friendship that is. At that point, we were in. Tied. On the same team. She drew a MS Paint drawing of me and I realized she was a different sort of friend. Someone who commits and digs in and doesn't flake out. Someone who I could drink wine with and eat an entire block of cheese with in one sitting, without noticing that it was past my bedtime.

We have things in common, of course. More things now that our lives have continued to overlap for five years. More than that though, we've got time.

I'm glad friendship is different than I thought it was. I like this version.

dear, beautiful Hannah

I spent much of yesterday co-teaching with my dear, beautiful friend Hannah. We used to spend several days a week working together, practically reading each others' minds. This summer she married her best friend and moved an hour away, so we don't see each other, or work together, nearly as much as before. My one consolation- and let me tell you, I needed one because I have been pouting like whoa- is that she just started a blog. If you know what's good for you, you'll read and soak in every word. She is a wise, kind, thoughtful woman, and her writing is too.

Don't be fooled though- knowing and loving her in real life will always far surpass any blog love and admiration one could have for her. So there.

Check it out: http://simplylivingwell.wordpress.com 

down the Cape

We had a beautiful weekend "down the Cape" with friends we don't see very often. Spending time with them reminds me what perfect balance they provide each other, which then reminds me of the balance Jake has given me. I left the few quiet days feeling thankful for chances to laugh over our own quirkiness.

It feels like full-out Fall in these parts. I'm hoping to eat some pumpkin bread or drink some hard cider at the end of this jam-packed day- celebrating my favorite season always helps ease me into a busy-as-ever week. Happy Monday. 

Happy Friday

In keeping with all the lovey-dovey wedding photos around here this week:

I'm excited to spend time this dear friend tonight. May was full of working crazy hours, then moving, then vacation. Then, of course, I returned the day after she left to visit family Scotland. Needless to say, its been too long (its almost JULY!). I'm counting down the minutes to drinking wine together tonight. In the meantime, here are some highlights from around the web:

This new blog find (I love finding a lovely new blog).

This pretty, simple gold ring.

This easy avacado spread recipe. I love avocado in the summer time- "delicious and nutritious," as my Ugandan home stay mother would say.

This encouraging post from Kelly Ann at The Flowerchild Dwelling ("Being who you want to be... it's worth it. Every single second of it").

These tiny gold tornado earrings. I picture them being a pair that'd I have to restrain myself from wearing everyday. 

I love this My Better Half series. I've been wondering what me and Jake's would be...what would yours be?

I've been having trouble getting into this book, but it just took a turn for the interesting last night. I'm hoping for some quality time with it at the 4th of July picnic on Saturday. I might take a break from it to break into this book, which I've been pining to crack open. Reading books that aren't for grad school? Bliss.

Happy Friday friends. Hope you have some wine and dear friends on your horizon too.

Auld Lang Syne

Despite my adamant feelings about embracing Christmas for all its wonder, no matter my age, I struggle with New Years. I think it has something to do with the romantic, adolescent years when I longed for New Years to look and feel like idyllic, televised, Times Square. Instead it just looked like sparkling cider in my living room, and watching the ball drop on the glass screen of our tv. Then, in college, I could only picture the final scene of When Harry Met Sally. No matter how fabulous the New Years Eve party, it just can't live up to that scene.

The last two years were spent with lots of friends and themed dressing up. We ushered in 2011 with a Decade Party- I was clad in an awesome 1970s vintage, paisley and sequins find, and Jake wore a just-as-vintage track suit. He spent the night threatening to wear it at our wedding. The next morning we met back up with the same friends and a crew of us ran three miles to the ocean, and then polar-plunged. I'm third from the left with the guys, trying to look like I'm tough and won't whimper myself into the freezing water.

This year we're trying a new approach- travel. Today we're breaking out our passports and hitting the road north to Montreal. It's our last trip of 2011- the year in which we moved into our first apartment together, got married, and went on our honeymoon. I started grad school this year. We got a dog. We paid off some debt. I turned 25 and Jake turned 30. It was a big year. Time on the road will carve a space for reflection.

And it'll be our first trip of 2012- we're not coming back until Tuesday night. Three days of art museums, boutique European shops, Notre-Dame Basilica, and lots of French food. As for New Years Eve, I'll try to keep my expectations in check. Ice skating and champagne sound just lovely.

Happiest of New Years to you! Here is one of my favorite scenes of all time- what better way to end 2011?

compassionate more than correct

I want to care more about people than I care about being right. I want the people I interact with to know that I would rather care than argue. I want to care more than I argue.

Western culture is rife with a black and white mentality. Things are good or evil, right or wrong. People are one way or another. Its an odd oxymoron juxtaposed with concepts of redemption or reconciliation. Redemption is a process, full of gray. Reconciliation is messy.

I fear that I too often equate compassion with compromise, but I would rather love than crusade!

These are the things we contemplate over pisco sours on a Thursday night.  A dear, thoughtful friend, pisco sours, and a challenge to care more? Yes, please.

the escalator

I love these women. Natalie, there in the red and white polka dots, just gave me a cd of pictures from the wedding that happened 2 months ago. It was back when that girl in the middle was still a bride-to-be, and not yet a wife. These lovely ladies were part of our whole wedding weekend, coming to the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner, spending time at my parents' home, and then showering me with love and support (rather tearful support) on the BIG DAY. I don't think it was any coincidence that these women and my husband were all brought into my life at nearly the same time. They're not kidding in the Psalms with all that talk of joy and the Lord's strength. I laugh more with these women than I knew I could laugh with friends. And Jake and I have more fun together than either of us thought possible before our first date. I am so-so-so thankful.

Hannah graced our wedding ceremony with her guitar and vocals. No one has a voice like Hannah. Hearing her sing "Cabaret" gives me chills, without fail. Well, hearing her sing anything gives me chills really. She's got soul. For the wedding she played 2 beautiful love songs, including "Days Like These" by Over the Rhine. I love Hannah's version even more than the original.

Natalie also caught some great shots of the soon-to-be-husband and me having a grand ol' time during the rehearsal. A married friend had said that once we made it to the rehearsal, we'd breathe a big beautiful sigh of relief- nothing left to plan, too late to change any minds, and a goodness-gracious-we-made-it feeling. It was true. At that point, we were on the escalator, and there was no getting off. It just kept humming along until we were dropped off at our hotel, after dancing our hearts out with friends and family at the wedding reception. And how odd to suddenly be alone after all that hurrah. Just suddenly, husband and wife.

to connect

I've been spending a lot of time with friends lately. Husband has been busy with a side job, which has left me free and clear for connecting. His absence has also left me wanting to connect. I'm an introvert of sorts- I love my alone time, thrive on it really, but I also depend on connectedness. Time with my husband, family or friends keeps me from retreating into my potentially loner-ish ways, and keeps me sane. 

Amidst this time spent with lots of friends, I've realized the need to pursue really connecting though. I've found myself discouraged after some interactions, feeling lonely and not knowing why. It is so easy to stay easy in conversations. Just talk work and clothes, and forget to challenge and encourage the substance and nitty-gritty of our friends. I need that. Without sharing some substance I'm left sitting on the surface of myself, discouraged at my own lack of depth. Lack of depth- a nice way of saying shallow.

Not to say that work and clothes aren't worth talking about. They are. I'm often talking about work, and some of my favorite times with my mom and sister have been spent in dressing rooms. My mom can also sense, even across state-lines, when something is amiss in my life though. So, unless I've got a maternal relationship with someone, its unlikely we're intuiting each other's innards. I've got to be committed to connecting- to asking, listening, encouraging. I've got to be willing to share my thoughts and my weaknesses; to ask for encouragement. 

My mentor often starts our conversations by asking what I've "been thinking lately." There's always a moment where I'm nervously wondering if I've been thinking anything. I always have been- just existing gives us lots of food for thought. But it takes Jo asking for me to substantiate my own ideas. And I have never left time with Jo feeling lonely. I leave invigorated. That's the thing- sharing thoughts breeds more thoughts. As we think together, we share ourselves, how we think, the funny ways our brains link ideas and memories together. We leave our time together more able to act independently, because friendship is not about dependence, but about connectedness. By connecting, we then have the confidence to think and act courageously on our own, knowing the support of a friend. 

This all reminds me of Gibran's poem on Marriage:

...Love one another but make not a bond of love:

Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.

Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.

Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,

Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.

For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.

And stand together, yet not too near together:

For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow. 

No matter how much I love my cat, that's one thing she just can't do for me.

(photo credit: blog.hubspot.com)

west side girl time

Dinner with friends- such a treat. Such a concept, really. Since elementary school the majority of my friends have always been male. First there was Keith. He and I would pretend to be Native Americans (look how PR I am), and use mashed up ferns as medicine for imagined injuries. Then there was Russell. My dad called him Hustle-Russell. Little H-R and I were true buddies, and he made a joke of proposing to me in public. He was always mostly joking. In high school there was a whole crew- Reynolds, Gavin & Pat. They were my dearest friends, even through much of college. We loved making faux-horror movies with my camcorder, and going to coffee shops. 

But in college it got weird. Boys were becoming men and men were becoming boyfriends, fiances, and husbands. And suddenly I learned, like Billy Crystal says in When Harry Met Sally, "men and women can never truly be friends." Now, I don't honestly agree with this. I still have male friends, but I guess they are all actually my husband's friends. And I guess I WOULD feel uncomfortable with my husband having one-on-one time with a female friend of his. Maybe I do agree with it? No matter, as I was saying- it got weird in college, but by then I'd missed the elementary lessons on making female friends. Girl friends. What an odd concept. Living on an all-girl floor was more than overwhelming my freshman year of college. I made one real friend that year. She and I were roommates for the following two, but now she's off across the country and married and terrible at communicating across any distance, never mind long-distance (and I am too, so there's that added strike). 

Then the last two years happened. I have been so-so-so blessed to get to know some beautiful women I work with. And we have become friends. And now I have friends. Girl friends.

So last night, as we have several times this summer, we made dinner together, drank tasty drinks and laughed a bunch. To drink was a personal favorite- even my signature drink at our wedding- dark and stormies. Dinner was a homemade pesto pizza, piled with garlic, basil, gouda and sauteed and caramelized veggies. My oh my, it was mighty tasty. And Natilda, the darling, made a rhubarb pie. We had it with vanilla bean gelato. I'm practically still full, but my mouth is watering. Then we watched West Side Story- which I had NEVER SEEN!- and we made sure to comment on every single wonderfully over-dramatic moment. Hannah's cat, Alistair, even chimed in (Hannah has a voice for him. It is hilarious. He's got quite a mouth.). 

I am so thankful for friendships. For dinner with friends, laughing with friends, support of friends. As Grammy writes in her letters- P.T.L. (praise the Lord!).