Ode to the black maxi skirt

The article of clothing in my closet that makes taking off my pajamas early in the morning bearable. The skirt that doubles as a blanket, on brisk fall days. Black maxi skirt I love you.  When I spill my minestrone soup on you at lunch I never have to be embarrassed that someone might see your the bright tomato-y stain. You cover up all my spills and hide my love handles under your stretchy yoga pants-esq waistband.  Your soft cotton is so comfortable. You cover my unshaven winter ready legs and make me look chic when I feel far from it. You, black maxi skirt are the greatest thing that has happened to me since leggings. Thank you for always being there for me.

Hidden gem

I was organizing some old photos on my computer yesterday and came across this. I don't know why the three year old version of me is wearing that giant sombrero but I think it's hilarious. I love the exposed tummy and toothy grin. Toddler perfection. Can life go back to being that simple?

This is called desperation

I'm not sure which is worse:

 

 The awkward moment when you finish season 3 on netflix and they haven't picked up the 4th season yet and you want to cry a little bit.

or

That awkward moment when you realize you're obsessed with a television show that's not even real.

#wetalkaboutitlikeitsreal #iknownothingaboutguns

Fall

In case you're still in denial that Fall is here (cough, cough Adam - I'm going to hide those flip flops), I have some photographic evidence that may help you along:



 

Crunchy orange leaves, picked up off the side walk

 



 

A piece of spicy pumpkin pie, on a drizzly fall evening

My space heater, blowing as much hot air as I demand 

It's time - you summer lovers, to put away the swimsuit and shorts and say your goodbyes because the best season of all is here!

 

Welcome Fall!! 

Spring

"It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold:  when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade."  Charles Dickens

Adam and I took a little stroll last weekend and took a couple of photos of the beautiful cherry blossoms. Then we got in a debate about whether or not the actual fruit grows on the trees. I told him that these aren't the type of trees that produce cherries. No fruit actually grows on them.
 What a mistake that was. It was as if I had told a 4 year old that Santa Clause doesn't exist. He was so disappointed. I think he imagined himself along with all the other Capitol hill employees cherry picking on their lunch breaks. In other news I think I mastered the "sock bun". The number of days that I can go without washing my hair has significantly increased. This is a beautiful thing.

Evidence Part II

I can't even cook anymore.
I blame it ALL on finals.

Evidence

That is what the following photos are.
Evidence that I live with a serious, studious, student.

With the semester coming to an end my husband (bless him) is getting into serious student mode. I see him maybe 4 hours a week, we communicate mostly through text and he seems to permanently be stuck in this sort of daze/twilight zone thing. It blows.
Oh and no your eyes are not fooling you there are two, count them two 5 hour energy drinks and one monster on my darling's lap desk.

It wasn't until 7:30 am (AM!!!) when he finally joined me in bed that I realized why two energy shots were necessary.

This is happening in my apartment right now. It's real.
And it's been there since Tuesday.
Somehow even though my one meesly final has come and gone I feel effected by Adam's crazyness. Somehow I can't find time to do the dishes either. Somehow those dishes have to be be done tonight or I might have to invest in a hazmat suit.

He's a trooper and He only has to hold on for a little bit longer and it will all be over.

Just a little bit longer and I'll have my dirty dish boy back.

This Week

The moment in time when I realized I really am an adult happened to be when I had to buy new tires this week. Why did nobody tell me that rubber is so expensive? Was this a fact of life that I missed out on? Was I absent that day in school?


I got crafty this week and spent 16 hours of my life modge podging. Just remembering those dark, sad, gluey, messy hours depresses me. I'd rather not talk about it.


This week this little number entered my life. Adam and I finally exited the world of relying solely on our phones to take pictures. Hallelujah. We will be enrolling in a photography workshop asap.


This week I experienced the joys and pains of being an adult.

Check

We crossed off one of our bucket list items this weekend!

By driving in the rain, with no GPS signal to Tooele, UT
so that we could get the bejesus scared out of us HERE




People this place has been featured on Ghost Adventures and still operates as a hospital.
It's the REAL deal.

And to get a little up close and personal with you I'll share this golden bit of info:
Last year I was so terrified in the haunted house that I peed my pants.

Straight out of the horses mouth.

This was the second year we went and without a doubt Asylum 49 (both years) was the most terrifying experience of my young life.

Please

Humor me and do the following:


Go to www.google.com/maps

click Get Directions

In box A type: China

In box B type: Japan

Now scroll down to step #42 of the directions

Laugh.

3:57pm Thursday Afternoon

I just recieved the following text from Husb:

"Amanda, I have to tell you something. I am completely obsessed with Josh Groban's song "Remember When it Raind" am I gay?

A little bit baby, just a little bit.

Flash Back

Go back withe me if you would to 1998 - I was 12. I was an awkward 6th grader attending Knowlton Elementary. Besides wearing puffy vests from Old Navy, prank calling my boyfriend Brady and lining my eyes in white eyeliner purchased from the local Kmart, I was obsessed with this:

My aspiration in life was to be Topanga Lawrence. I wanted to date Cory Matthews, attend John Adams high, learn valuable life lessons from Mr. Feeny, and hang out with the cool kids at Chubbies.

For the past several weeks I have been dying to watch this stupid show.

I kind of want to buy all the seasons on amazon.

Suck.

i love you Topanga Lawrence

My Mohawk Man

My darling husband has a way of. . . persuading me into things. His eyes do this sort of droopy sad stare thing, and his lips do this pouty pouty frown thing that drives me nuts, his shoulders shrug and then hunch and SERIOUSLY he looks like a four year old kid sitting in the candy isle at walmart guilting mom into buying a treat.

I cant say no to him.

ever.

So the other day when I cut him off with an "ABSOLUTELY NO" before he could finish asking if I would cut his hair into a mohawk, his whole charade began:

"But I've always wanted one and I finally can have one because I'm not living in my parents house, on a mission, attending BYU, or working at a job that prohibits it, this summer is the only time in my life when I can have one and the only thing that's stopping me is you PLEASEpleasePLEASEplease Manda PLEASE!!!!"

ugh, I know right?

I'm horrible if I say no.

I can hardly look at him if I say yes.

So I invested in a bandanna to permanently cover my eyes for the next 4-6 weeks.

My husband is sporting a mohawk that he blow dries, straightens and styles every morning.

He loves it, it makes him happy, so I guess it makes me happy too.

Journal Archives

I like keeping journals, I especially like reading journals. I like the way reading my words stirs up thoughts and feelings as if my brain were a library filled with dusty old books full of memories.

When Adam and I first started dating he inspired me, I wanted to write everything down, I never wanted to forget the things he said to me, the things that filled me with butterflies, dates we went on, feelings I had, I wanted it all to last forever on paper so that I could refer back to my precious memories years from now.

This is one of my favorite memories, this is the night that I realized that Adam would be my husband.

No Words.

10/2009

"You’re my favorite" he tells her sweetly, "Goodnight".

She fumbled for her keys, trying not to act suspicious, she takes her time unlocking the door to her apartment.

"Goodnight" She repeated back.

A hint of disappointment in her voice. Don’t go she thought, just stay with me a little while longer. Don’t go…

It was pouring rain and the stairwell provide them shelter from a weeping sky.

He took her in for another strong, loving embrace, held for a moment longer than usual; she knew he didn’t want to let go either. But he did. He let go and kissed her forehead tenderly and walked down the stairs, out to the rain cover side walk.

Her lips curved into a smile, she was filled with contentment and hope as she watched him walk away in the dark, a hood covering his sandy hair, head phones blaring with music she hated. Hanging on his every step her eyes followed him until he was out of sight.

She turned to walk into an empty apartment, but stopped. In an instant, seemingly without permission from her brain, and completely automatically her legs acted as an extension from her heart, they took her out in to the cold night, barefoot and in a dress, she ran to him. With no regard for tact, rules, or discretion she was acting on desire alone. She needed him. She wanted him. And in that moment there just wasn't any other way.

Hesitation almost caused her to turn back, rationality swept over her and suddenly she wondered what he might think. Such a forward action would surely cause him to think differently of her. A stream of "what am I doing?" type thoughts filled her brain and she questioned herself. After what seemed to be an eternity of debate between, head and heart , she knew her legs couldn’t be stopped so she kept running, her heart pulling her toward him like a magnet.

Finally, she reached him, in one bold move she wrapped her arms around him from behind. Startled, he whipped around to find her soaked and smiling. She was laughing and breathing hard. Still unsure of what she had just done.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn’t, couldn’t - I just couldn’t let you go…then…there…back there at my apartment", she stumble over the words she hadn't planned to say, hoping for a reaction that would justify her actions.

"I'm sor-", she was cut off by his lips finding hers.

He kissed her. He took her head in his hands and kissed her. An honest, passion filled, amazing, life altering, magical, kiss. The rain fell on their heads as they stood in the street. She pulled away to make sure that he was real, that this was really happening. To her disbelief, it was happening. He was happening. He looked in her eyes with the same disbelief. A feeling that she was becoming more and more familiar with. She smiled and buried her face in his chest, drenched in emotion, and rain. She struggled to take it all in, never wanting it to end; the rain, the kiss and for the first time so far in this premature relationship she realized that she didn't want it to end either.

It was a real life picture perfect moment, a moment that only happens once or twice in a lifetime. A moment that fills a person up till they're overflowing with sensation and emotion that washes over them till they're nearly drowning in it. The kind of moment that needs no words. Unnecessary of words that couldn’t even come close to providing it justice.

"Wow" managed to escape his perfect lips, "where have you been?" he asked her.

She smiled and stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek.

A familiar exchange of words:

"Goodnight" she whispered.

"Night sweetheart" he said.

She took a last gaze into his brown eyes, and reluctantly turned to run back to her apartment, her hair and dress drenched, heart full.

She ran up the stairs into a dry living room; closing the door behind her she collapsed onto the wall seeking its support to hold her up. Unsure if her legs would be able to keep her standing much longer, her knees grew weak and a smile again found her face as she slid down the wall.

In that quiet moment alone sitting on the living room floor of her empty apartment her mind became clear--she came to a realization that no longer scarred her: this is it, He is it.