Spring is in the Air...in the Form of Snowflakes

I am, apparently, a terrible blogger. Every day I wake up thinking about what I want to write about and then before I know it the entire day is gone and all I have are three lines. I have a head full of ideas and some witty lines in the works, but there just never seem to be enough hours in the day to post them.


In the meantime, I’d just like to say that I am SO excited about spring. Although, I can’t even express my disappointment when I woke up on the first day of spring to 40 degree weather and on the second day to I woke up to snow. Snow. Seriously? Unless I can practice my new-found love of snowboarding or throw a snowball at Justin's head, I’d rather not have it. Especially when it ruins fun barbeque and outside concert plans. Thank goodness that the next day was full of sunny blue skies and not a single drop of rain…or snow. I’m ready to pack up all of my coats, my ridiculous amount of sweaters, my cute collection of scarves and, yes, even my boots, which I am slightly in love with. I’m ready for sundresses and white pants, gold flip flops and brightly-colored tops. I’m ready for green trees, waterskiing on the lake and Saturdays wasted away at the pool. Winter, I loved you, but it’s time for you to go.

I actually love the change of seasons because it’s like opening a whole new closet of clothes you forgot you had. There are few things better in life (after cake, of course) than finding a fabulous dress or pair of peep-toe heels that you forgot you had because it has been so long since you wore them. Living in Florida, I could pretty much wear my wardrobe year round. Even the nights when it was a “cold” 50 degrees we’d still put on our cute party dresses (no tights necessary) and run as quickly as possible from the car until we were inside. Living in Louisiana has given me a chance to have a “winter” wardrobe, and this season I really had fun with it, but I literally can’t wait to break out my Rainbows and my favorite denim mini.

So, welcome Spring! I can’t wait to see what fun we’re going to have together (and all the fabulous blogs I'm going to write about you). Let’s hope the snow stays away and the blue skies make a daily appearance. Here’s to longer, sunnier days and warmer, brighter outfits. And Steve Madden boots, even though I love you, it’s time to go away until at least October.

Here's to you, Mr. Jameson

I’m feeling nostalgic today as I think back to where we were this time last year. During a random conversation on a drive home from Arlington, TX, Justin brought up the fact that among his many interesting and diverse life goals, one was to be in Dublin on St. Patrick’s Day. Our genius minds quickly pulled together an ingenious plan. We would go on a trip to England to see my family and make a quick stop in Ireland while we there. Within two weeks our tickets were booked and our two-day trip to Dublin was in the works, with my brother and two other friends along for the ride. We arrived in Dublin on March 16th, and could already see the celebration that was about to ensue.

Justin has, how should I say, a strong affection for Jameson Irish Whiskey. And when I say strong affection I really mean that he once told me he wished he could marry it. Needless to say, the first stop on our whirlwind trip was to the Jameson Distillery, and you can imagine how excited Justin was. After a trip to the gift shop, a drink in the bar and learning that he could have his very own bottle of Jameson engraved with his name, I think he was in heaven. Another feat crossed off his bucket list. After leaving the distillery, and after a quick run-in with a very affectionate leprechaun, we made our way to the Guinness Factory, another one of Justin’s favorite creations.

I can’t say that we saw the inside of the factory, because we didn’t. I can’t even say we had a drink in the bar because it didn’t happen. Due to our lack of a foreign cell phone and our terrible planning skills, we became well-accustomed with the sidewalk and the front door as we waited outside the factory for two hours for our friends Tim and Jon-Erik. Craving a pint and some good Irish food, we gave up and headed to a local pub, only to find out that they had also been waiting for us the whole time. Inside the factory. At the bar. Maybe next time, Guinness Factory. We finished our first night with a trip to the Hard Rock and the purchase of a sparkly, rhinestone-studded green cowboy hat, ready for St. Patrick’s Day.

We heard rumors and had numerous people warn us that “they don’t really celebrate St. Patrick’s Day in Ireland.” Let me just tell you that whoever thinks that is beyond confused. With more than a million people in the green sea that was the streets of Dublin, I’d say that they celebrate it better than anywhere else in the world. We purchased our leprechaun top hats and our Ireland scarves and headed to the parade, which was, in itself, a unique and unforgettable experience. We spent the day journeying through the Temple Bar district with countless pints of green beer, an endless desire for Irish stew and kisses for everyone, Irish or not.

This was a trip that so many will never have the opportunity to make and something that I would have never done by myself. I will always be thankful to Justin for making it happen. I feel extremely fortunate to have found someone who also has a strong sense of adventure and a serious case of the travel bug. Although, it’s also slightly frightening because we’re both full of ideas and up for anything, and before you know it we’ll be stuck in our car at the top of a mountain in the middle of a blizzard because we thought it was a good idea at the time. Justin does come prepared though. You’ll never find him without his camping toilet paper and fire-starter sticks (which come in handy more than you would think).

So, today I am going to live vicariously through my pictures from last year, put on my Ireland scarf and hope that Louisiana knows a thing or two about green beer. And while we can’t be there in person, I’ll make sure to have Jameson and Guinness in stock when Justin gets home so my lover of Irish drinks will be well-equipped to make his infamous Car Bombs and feel like he’s right back in Temple Bar.

I believe in luck, and the engraved ring that I wear on my right hand is a constant reminder of that. I bought it when I first decided to move to Louisiana, and while it’s now a little bent out of shape and scratched all over, it has brought me nothing but the best. I’ve been blessed with all the luck and all the love in the world...what better day to celebrate it than today!

That Takes the Cake!

I’ve been hard at work on a fantastic travel post for the past three days, but a terrible realization I had on a recent trip to the refrigerator stopped me in my tracks. Everyone knows I love food. I love eating, and I typically eat more than most people would deem acceptable. Adam Richman from Man vs. Food would probably become my best friend if I ever get to meet him, which I plan to, because among my dreams is a strong desire to start my own show, Woman vs. Food.

On my birthday, which was exactly nine days ago, Justin brought home an incredible double-layered chocolatey, dreamy concoction from a local bakery. We sang happy birthday and I devoured my first slice, proclaiming it was the best cake I’d ever had (which I’m pretty sure I say after every piece of cake I eat). Justin, unlike myself, does not really eat cake, so I figured I would just eat a little then reluctantly throw the rest away so I wouldn’t be tempted to eat the whole thing. Especially considering the fact that I still have Valentine’s Day red velvet cake in the freezer waiting for me. About five days later, Justin opened the refrigerator and said “Oh my God, you’ve eaten half a cake.” Ummmm I have? I guess a little slice here and there can really add up quickly. I took that as a bad sign and decided that day to throw away my cake.

But who can throw away a perfectly delicious cake? If that is what will power is made of, then I have none, clearly. Because when I opened the refrigerator today and looked at the cake box, this is what I saw:



I’ve done it. I’ve had my cake and eaten it too. After today’s breakfast and minus two small pieces eaten by friends, I will have eaten an entire cake in nine days, foregoing the nicely cut slices I was making last week for a fork straight into the box. I think Adam would be proud, and I think a cake challenge will be the first episode of my new Travel Channel show.

Kevin's a Girl?

If any of you have seen the movie “Up,” (cough, cough Bekah), you’ll understand the title of this blog. We rented “Up” after hearing rave reviews from multiple friends and family members, and we loved it…which I think is perfectly clear from the fact that we still haven’t sent it back to NetFlix and we received it on January 3rd. Whoever determined the “no late fee” rule deserves a medal. Anyways, I actually want to devote an entire post to this movie, which is centered around love and adventure, two of my favorite things, but I’ll save that for another day. During their travels, the characters in the story run into a giant, colorful, fun-loving creature who is promptly named Kevin, without much thought being given to species or gender. Some might say, including myself, that Kevin resembles a peacock.

Which brings me to the point of this post. Last night I had the opportunity to try my hand at painting, which is something that in all my years of living I have never tried. And I was the girl who tried everything. Among other activities, I had attempted to be a synchronized swimmer, a gymnast and a roller figure skater all by the age of 12. I’m thankful now that playing the piano is the one thing I stuck with because I don’t think there’s much out there for a professional roller figure skater in the real world. When my friend Kendall invited me to “Painting With a Twist,” the first thing that crossed my mind was “there’s no way I can paint and not be completely embarrassed with the end product.” Then she mentioned that they served wine during this two hour class, so I swiftly accepted the invitation.

“Painting With a Twist” is a ingenious concept for a fun, creative and unique night out with your girlfriends. For two hours you are given step-by-step instructions to create your very own masterpiece, and each night is a different theme. Not only do you get to let your creative juices flow (which is especially exciting when you didn’t even know you had them in you in the first place), but they also serve wine and have a fantastic playlist including “Living on a Prayer” and “Love Shack.” What wasn’t to love? Last night the theme was a peacock, and when I saw what we were supposed to be “creating,” I had a momentary panic attack. Having never really picked up a paintbrush other than those paint-by-numbers kits when I was a kid, I was a more than a little nervous and convinced that mine would be the worst in the class. When they sat us at our blank canvas and said “Okay, now draw the head and body” with no further instruction, my heart started to sink. But, low and behold, two hours and three bottles of wine (between us, not by myself) later, we had all painted, with our own two hands, a flock of magnificent and beautiful birds, each different in its own special way. Success! We finished our paintings with a rendition of “Don’t Stop Believing” and remembering that anything is possible- even becoming a fabulous artist. We’re already planning our next trip back.

When I first told Justin that I was going to a painting class and asked him where we could hang my creation when it was finished, he looked at me as if to say “You really think you’re going to want to put something you paint on display?” You should have seen the surprise and pride in his eyes when I came home and showed him my glorious work of art. Well, maybe it was more a look of sheer relief that I didn’t come home with something a 4-year-old had made, but either way, I know he was impressed. This weekend we are helping our friends Lea and Donny paint their new house, and I’m hoping they want a flock of peacocks in their living room so I can practice my new talent.

I’m a big believer in dreams, as most of you know, and maybe now that I’m capable of being an artist I can finally fulfill my dream of starting my own Hallmark card line. A lofty goal, but anything is possible. And stay tuned for more creative ventures, because I’m pretty sure that in the midst of our wine, singing and peacock painting I convinced Kendall to take a cake decorating class with me. I’ll be the next Ace of Cakes before you know it.

So, here’s my peacock in all his glory, with his crazy eye and messy feathers, which I have fittingly named Kevin after a movie that should inspire everyone to believe in love and where it can take you, and remember that “adventure is out there!”

26 and Fabulous!

The idea for this blog came from a brilliant conversation with my incredibly clever and witty friend Taylor over Google chat. That’s not to say that all of our conversations aren’t brilliant and witty, but this one ended up in both of us starting a blog so it gets special mention. (Side note: I think it’s safe to say that Google chat has preserved my mental stability. Working at home has a million perks, but sitting by yourself all day is not one of them. Thank you, Taylor, for your fabulous chatting skills, without which I would not make it through a work day).

Anyways, we soon came to the realization that if we enjoyed reading other blogs so much, why wouldn’t everyone want to read ours? They would obviously be clever, well-written and full of good ideas. I already have a slightly unhealthy addiction to reading Taylor’s blog, which is an adorable collection of “All Things Fabulous”- I highly recommend it to anyone who also loves fabulous things. I decided that my blog would be an entertaining and memorable collection of stories and pictures of the events in my life. I thought I’d begin with my 26th birthday weekend, before it becomes just a fleeting memory and I start to accept the undeniable fact that I’m now at the end of my “mid-20’s.”

Growing up my parents would ask me where I wanted to go for my birthday dinner, and my favorite response was always “Shoney’s!” Everyone thought it was a strange choice for a 10-year-old, but if I had a Shoney’s right here in Shreveport, I would have been there as an excited 26-year-old for a delicious all-you-can-eat feast. When Justin asked what I wanted to eat this year, I thought long and hard and decided to go with a Louisiana tradition: crawfish. A year and half ago I couldn’t have told you what a crawfish looked like, but we have quickly become “mudbug” connoisseurs. You just won’t find me sucking the guts out of their heads like most people here like to do…

My birthday continued with an exciting night at one of our favorite casinos, The El Dorado. When we first moved to Louisiana and didn’t know anyone else here, Justin and I spent many weekends at the casinos, learning to play roulette and craps and never quite learning when it was a good time to leave. There are five casinos in Shreveport along the Red River, each containing gorgeous hotel rooms and unbelievable buffets, and the actual casinos are boats attached to the building since gambling can’t take place on land. Imagine my surprise when I realized about four months later that every time I walked into the casino I was actually walking onto a boat. I’ll blame my lack of observation skills on the free and unlimited bourbon and gingers they give me while I’m there.

In the midst of my chocolate cake and Riesling high, I suggested a trip to Little Rock, AR the next day to continue the celebration. Justin and I made a spontaneous trip to Little Rock last January and had a blast. We have been to Arkansas now five times in the past 18 months and have loved every trip. We saw spectacular, breath-taking views as we hiked to the highest point in Arkansas at Mt. Magazine, celebrated the 4th of July at a water and amusement park in Hot Springs and spent a long, hot day digging for diamonds at the Crater of Diamonds State Park (which, may I add, was much harder than I was lead to believe it would be). On our first trip to Little Rock we sang the night away at a fantastic piano bar called Ernie Biggs, and I couldn’t wait to go back. For any of you who have known me for even five minutes, you know that a night singing along to songs I know all the words to and listening to dueling pianos is my idea of a perfect time. Ernie Biggs didn’t disappoint- I quickly forgot about turning 26 and instantly felt like an 18-year-old at Alligator Rocks my freshman year of college. Perfect.

To finish my birthday weekend, I ate until I literally could not eat any more at one of my favorite places: Cracker Barrel. Many of you probably know that while I love Cracker Barrel, Justin hates it, and if you’ve heard the story of our first drive to Louisiana together and the Cracker Barrel fiasco, you’ll know that him going with me on Sunday was a BIG deal. But I couldn’t have asked for a better end to an already wonderful weekend.

I have to make a quick note of all the amazing presents I received from my friends and family all over the world. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. Gorgeous jewelry engraved with quotes (so perfectly me), a new collection of books with topics such as cakes and ghosts (yes, I have very strange and differing interests) and an economy-sized box of Mike and Ikes…I loved opening every single one. And I wanted to make a special note of two of Justin’s gifts that really hold a special place in my heart. I opened two jewelry boxes to find a stunning Fleur de Lis necklace and bracelet. As the state symbol of Louisiana, the Fleur de Lis is everywhere and a constant reminder of the fascinating French culture that we’re living in. After he gave them to me he said “When we leave here, wherever we go next, I just want you to have a reminder of where we started.”
Shreveport, Louisiana…who would have ever thought. But my gorgeous Fleur de Lis reminds me that it has been the perfect beginning on this awesome adventure.

Here’s to being 26 and fabulous. I can’t wait to see where it takes me. And now that I’ve written a short novel, I have some Google chatting to do.

Some Kind of Ride

There’s a lot to be said about watching the sun rise over a new and unfamiliar town. While driving through New Mexico on a road trip the last day of 2009, saying a silent “thank you” for coffee and watching the thermometer drop to single digits, I thought about how lucky I am and about how much one year can change your life.

This past year has taken me to new horizons in every possible way. From my incredibly exciting, constantly growing relationship, my new and consistently challenging career and my unbelievable travel itinerary, 2009 truly changed my life. For the first time I was able to see that there is a fantastic world outside of Florida and there are places to visit other than Disney World. My eyes have been opened to unique cultures, new friends, true love and a winter wardrobe full of incredibly cute scarves and boots. I have seen presidents carved into a mountain and tasted my first crawfish. I drank a Guiness in Ireland on Saint Patrick’s Day and caught my first Mardi Gras beads. I bruised every part of my body in attempt to ride a board down a mountain and realized that sometimes there is nothing better than being at home with a bottle of wine, a good movie and the love of my life. I have learned that I have so much more to see, so much more to do, and that life is so much bigger than I ever thought it could be.

So, this is the story of my “perfect ride.” This is my journey, my account of where I’ve been and where I’m going. This is for all the people who are too far away to know just where life has taken me and how it changes me with every trip, every new experience and everyone I meet along the way. Life is a gift; I plan to treat it that way.

Before I go to start the dreaded task of packing for yet another adventure, I leave you with one of my favorite StoryPeople from the remarkable, ingenious and ever-inspiring Brian Andreas…

“Feels like some kind of ride, but it’s turning out just to be life going absolutely perfectly.”