hell of a season.

Winter requires a certain bravery.  It requires ammunition.

Summer, on the other hand, flurries by without effort, without a fuss.  The music I tend to gravitate toward during that season is light.  Pastel.  Carefree.  Like elegant cursive letters sprawled out over paper.

In the Winter, this simply will not do.  I need substance.  I need a song to set off my mental fuses, to reach out and pull me from the haze.  Drum clarity into my brain.  Pound out the temptation to fall into hibernation.  I need something that drives me forward.  That gives me a reason to even stir instead of settle like debris in still water.

Dear January,

Frankly, you exhaust me. I can say little of the hospitality your dreariness lends.  We're running out of fresh oxygen.  February, be kind to me.  Each night I re-acquaint my body with sleep, and vow never to leave my bed again.

But growing up is giving away your time, space, and energy.  Simply adjusting to the things you abhor.  Growing up is shedding tears at the sight of something you've only laughed at on a hundred occasions before.  It's that feeling of shock and disgust when you finally get the joke.  We're running out of ideas.

It's a lousy sensation, realizing that anyone I came to admire has only been tolerating me.  A charade of pleasantries.  Nodding heads and curtsies.   Then comes a confirmation of my greatest fears.

So how could I ever thank you, for humoring me all of these years?

it's still winter.

The first picture was an accident.  Well, okay, I meant to take a picture, but was too lazy and cold to stop walking in order to focus it.  I remember seeing how blurry it was and thinking that it was worthless and I'd delete it later.  In a warmer, drier place.  But , as it turns out, it's probably one of my favorites as of late.  Blurry warmth.  Even though it's snowing. 

Did you know that the storm going on in Utah and the surrounding states right now is named Gandolf?  I hope that they didn't mean to name it after Gandalf, because misspelling the name of such a prominent figure in Middle Earth's history is just plain embarrassing. 

Or maybe it's more embarrassing that I even know that.  You're probably right.

Tomorrow's high is only going to get to 14 degrees.  Definitely will not be leaving the house.

icicles everywhere.

How do I live? 

Thus far, this Winter has been especially bitter and inconsiderate.  She seems only to laugh at my feeble attempts to stay warm.  I turn up the heater, she brings down the temperature.  I attempt to take a warm shower, she freezes the walls and makes my soap and shampoo feel like I've been keeping them in the refrigerator.
From what I can see, she has formed icicles everywhere she possibly can, making rain gutters and roof tops and cars look as though they're literally sobbing, begging to be thawed.

But that Winter,  in cold retaliation, only freezes their tears.

Crazy broad.

Seeing as the cold has seemed to be so especially cold this year, I did some research.  Naturally.  I found that the average high for January is 37 degrees.  The average low for January is 21 degrees.

Well guess what, averages?  It was 1 degree last night!  That's right, one!  Singular.  Uno.   Not even enough to say degrees. 

Good luck with your resolutions everyone.  I'll be perfecting the art of hibernation.

"and I scream for the sunlight 
or a car to take me anywhere
just get me past this dead 
and eternal snow."

pieces.

This Christmas break...

There was a storm, successfully making it a white Christmas indeed.

We spent time.  Which is the best thing to spend when it comes to the people who matter most.

And we were uplifted by good words.

none.

I had a hungry desire to tell you more about me, as your presence usually brings, but never got an opportunity.  So I sit and argue with myself until the day dies away, imagining up different strategies to shut down my brain.  And I look back on failed attempts.

The sun insists on setting prematurely.  She's indifferent to my shameless pleading, these pathetic appeals from hand and knee.  I decide to blame my current mental state on this absence.  Dismissing invalidity.

a combination to tears.

"Every little girl is so naive - falling in love with the first man that they see... When we were in love, if we were. When we were in love - I was an eagle, And you were a dove." -Laura Marling

The truth of the matter is that the majority of these are lost, the problem being that they enjoy being lost more than finding any sort of answers, the tragedy being the fact that they consciously hide from the answers, even as answers make their way to their own doorstep.

Even as answers compromise all of their efforts to argue otherwise.

so domestic right now.

You know, sifting, beating, measuring....pre-heating...baking.

Every Christmas, my mother and I spend about six hours in the kitchen, baking all sorts of sweets to deliver to people that we like.

Fudge, molasses cookies, frosted sugar cookies, plum bread covered in sugary buttery glaze.  How can you go wrong?

I came to the realization afterward that I only took pictures of food, and none of my mom and I.  Yeah, I should probably work on taking more pictures of actual humans.  This has always been an issue for me.

Here's an actual-human picture of my mom from earlier that day.

 This year's baking party was a little different than any in the past.  See, usually how this goes down is my mom does the vast majority of the work and I sort of follow her around the kitchen licking spoons and bowls and "testing" various doughs and frostings and such.  But this year, I'm quite proud of myself.  This year, I actually did things.

My mom commented on how domestic I'm becoming.  It made me laugh, but was also quite a relief.  I didn't think I had it in me.

It felt more like Christmas than it has the whole month so far. There was snow falling, music was on, we were dancing and singing, delicious smells were wafting.  And after we listened to "Rockin Around the Christmas Tree"  for the umpteenth time, I was so full of sugar and Holiday Cheer that I had to take a break! 

That was actually because my back hurt.  Standing for too long turns me into an old cripple.

You'd better hope I like you enough to get some of these goodies delivered to your door tonight!  Merry Merry.

pictures.

The rest of the pictures from our photo shoot with Erin from Woodcat Photography are finished.  If you become queasy at the sight of lovey dovey mushy gushy pictures, I suggest that you turn back now!

But I'm way too excited about them not to share.  Here are my favorites.

If you're ever in need of a photographer, check out their website!  She's a genius.  All of the pictures look like something out of a fantasy world where everything is beautiful and enchanted.

Merry Merry.

little pieces.

It just wouldn't be Christmas time without a few quality cram sessions on cello for the church program.  I'm kind of being sarcastic but kind of not.  It's always pretty awkward and I'm not good at being in front of everyone...doing things.  But there was one year I didn't do a musical number at church for Christmas.  It was odd.  Didn't feel right.

Just..falalalala, you know?

Cello is like the chocolate of the string instruments.  It's rich and dark and delicious.  I'm so glad my dad made me start playing, even when I whined.

We had a sink incident.  Our first one, isn't that so exciting!  At this moment, I had just gotten off the phone with our landlord and snapped at Drew cause I don't do well with listening to more than one person at once. Gives me the anxieties.  I felt pretty dumb for that, and saw how cute he was all manly-husbandish and stuff and had to snap a picture.

Just to make these real-life moments a bit more concrete.

To be fair, the sink didn't get fixed right then and there.  We had to get some help from Drew's dad who had prior experience and extra parts and then the sink got fixed.  Not sure what we'd do without our parents nearby.

We're such babies.

tree-decorating post.

Christmas cheer cannot exist without this album.

You're probably wondering if I have some irritated skin issue, causing a need for me to wear such baggy clothes.  No, I just look like that after work everyday.  Merry Christmas. 

It's our first Christmas as a married unit, and I've come to realize something:  I like this time of year exponentially more than I did before we were married.

Halloween is still better.

if I may gush.

Did you know that the sun is actually closer to the earth during the Winter?  It's just that the angle it shines on us at isn't as direct as it is in the Summer.  That's why the sun seems essentially worthless this time of year.  I mean, it can't even melt snow.

And then the cold sinks past my skin and into my bones and stays there.  Until at least March.  And my nose?  I've decided it will never be warm again.

Drew and his band played in the battle of the bands in Provo on Friday night.  Here we are, me being pale and frantic as always.  Drew being neither of those ever.

And here is me and Kayloni.  Again, just pale and awkward over here.  Good thing I know pretty people.

We also had the privilege of attending a murder mystery party Saturday night!  It was a dream come true.  I've had an obsession with murder mysteries since I was 8 years old. 

We were Southside Sal and Natalie Nemetz, secret star-crossed lovers of the Chicago underground.  Given.

Lastly, we had the opportunity to do a photo shoot with the wonderfully talented Erin from Woodcat photography! I definitely recommend her, she is a genius with a camera - such a creative eye.

Happy six months to my darling husband.  Who never loses patience with me, even when most anyone else would.

Who rubs lotion on my gross feet and removes the polish off of my nails for me.  Who takes out the garbage and battles with mice and checks the shower for any murderers before he leaves, just to humor me.

Who tickles my face and keeps me warm.  Who is always happy to listen to my ramblings, and who understands me like no other human has.

Thanks for sticking with me, sweetie.  You've made me happy and proud to be who I am, because you like who that is.  And I am ever so proud to be your lady.

I love you.

what's the hurry.

Drew picked me up from work the other day.  This is one of my favorite parts of the day, because when I get in the car he grabs me and kisses me all over my face for as long as I need in order to carry on after another grueling, soul-snatching day of full-time employment.  Yes, I'm a child.  But he takes good care of me.

Him: "Hey baby, how are you?"

Me: *Groaning*

Him: "How was work?"

Me: *Even more groaning*

Him: "We don't have to talk about it."

I'm sure you're quite aware by now if you live in Utah County, but it snowed today.  The first snow.  This is me being so sad about it.  But sort of conflicted because I got to wear that scarf.  And I love that scarf.

As much as I hate it, it can be beautiful, that snow.  At least on the mountains.  But I just need to slow down here.  Because it isn't even winter yet.

"'Hurry, or you'll miss out' we're told, 

as if our all-fired hurry in life 

were not the principal reason 

we miss out." -Robert Brault

haze.

This morning, I was awakened by the gray light that shone into our room.  I opened my puffy eyes a slit.  My arms were cold.  I buried them under my blankets, adjusted my position.  Drew's feet were cold.  I moved more blanket onto him.   

Everything was cold.

The window our bed sits under had betrayed us while we slept, letting the chilly air from outside slip through its cracks.  This was no ordinary morning, this was the morning that winter's miserable memory crept back into our minds.

Winter, with her unnaturally early sunsets, slippery roads, and that paralyzing cold which makes it nearly impossible to get out of bed.  How I hate her.

Though this morning's events was just a teaser, a reminder that we can't make it through a year without yet another visit from her - This winter haze.  It's on its way.

But for now, I refuse to acknowledge the cold, ignoring it as best I know how.  For now, I'm carving pumpkins, making pumpkin cookies, lighting candles, and holding onto Fall with all of my might.

"IT'S ON NOW

THE DAYS ARE LONG NOW

THE UPS AND SUN DOWNS

AND A TWISTING MIND

  IF I'VE GOTTA GO FIRST

I'LL DO IT ON MY TERMS

I'M TIRED OF TRAITORS

ALWAYS CHANGING SIDES

THEY WERE FRIENDS OF MINE." 

11/24/10

I can count on it, 
like I can count on this 
frigid weather 
every morning, 
catching in my lungs. 
When the sun seems to be 
failing 
in its efforts to rise, 
to shed that 
blessed light, 
and warm these 
frozen insides. 

I'll hear you calling 
when you're struggling 
again 
to find the best in you, 
like I always did 
before.  
I have to give credit; 
at least you know 
what I'm good for.   

I could always pick you apart 
into smaller pieces still. 
Your layers of meaning
leaving me 
simply perplexed 
every time. 
I never had 
my fill.

You can count on it 
like you can count on 
your boundaries 
keeping you in.
You'll order me 
to lay down 
as the street 
below your feet.  
It isn't you 
I have to blame; 
this is the way 
I've trained you 
to be.
[AND IF I'M SUCH A LIGHT, 
THEN WHY DO YOU RUN FROM ME?] 

You'll count on it, 
I know, 
just like you count on this 
frigid air. 
Just say when and where. 
Without hesitation, 
I'm there.

We are not steadfast. We are not extraordinary. This furious current will insist. It's all been swept away without a trace of any kind of yesterday.