{in conversations}

I'm a little overwhelmed.

Good overwhelmed, I think, mostly.

Thank you all so, so, so much for all the beautiful emails and comments and texts and Facebook messages and notes and phone calls...! I couldn't believe it. It was like an avalanche. Of hearts. Or, you know, whatever. A lovalanche. (Dictionary that, Webster.)

The most surprising thing happened about five minutes after I posted the video on Tuesday. And it happened again about half an hour later. And it happened again two minutes after that. And it happened again, and again, and again, and every time it happened it completely surprised me and brought me to tears and it's still happening and it's beautiful and kind of heartbreaking and completely humbling but so amazing.

I got this email that started out, "I'm crying right now because I know how this feels..."

That email was from someone I've never met. The next email was from someone I know. The next email was from someone I haven't talked to in seven years.

Some of the emails were short and vague, some were long and detailed. There were stories about infertility and miscarriages and illnesses and waiting and singleness and some of the stories had happy endings and some of the stories were still hopeful and, you know, some of the stories were very hard to read because they just didn't end the way that you'd want them to end. I was and am so touched at the way that people reached out--even often in the midst of their own grief--to say that they got it and to share such a personal part of their lives with me.

The result has been some amazing conversations about life and faith and disappointment and hope. I've been checking my email like a lunatic and crying over people I've never met and feeling so encouraged by their stories and their perspectives. It's pretty beautiful.

I guess it's a good lesson for me in being open. It's good to know the boundaries--the difference between sharing your heart when it's appropriate and attacking people with your crazy monster emotions every single time you open your mouth. But I feel like a lot of people want to talk about this stuff.

And sometimes, in conversations, you have to go first.

{january}

I was talking to a friend the other day about the things that I don't talk about on this blog. I know some people lay everything out there for the whole internet to know about, but I've had too many instances of complete strangers coming up to me and telling me that they recognize me from here for me to be completely transparent. I don't go to the mall to have heart-to-hearts with the ladies on duty at Aldo. I have close friends and family for that. I also have another blog, set to private, for that. (Surprise.)

There are times, though, for being a little more open than you're comfortable with. I feel like this might be one of those times. I made a little video instead of trying to type it all out, but YouTube's embed feature is giving me grief today, so you'll have to click here to watch it. (Make sure to watch in full screen; it'll be easier on your eyes.)

{sit-down-shut-up}

So it's Monday again, is it? I'm eating a bowl of Mini Wheats and listening to the whir of the dishwasher--maybe not 'worth' documenting, but what is, really?

Lately, the weeks have been passing like days. Wake up, lay down, Summer's over. Soon, I'll be starting up piano lessons again. The nights will be cooler and the vines in the backyard will turn bright orange. I'm ready for it. Maybe I'll even start writing stuff down and taking pictures again. Between picking the ripe berries and apples in the backyard, unpacking the last few straggling moving boxes, and wandering around my new neighbourhood scoping out parks, libraries, and grocery stores, I just haven't had a lot of sit-down-shut-up time.

{the high line}

If I had a time machine, this is where I'd be right now. The morning of May 12, 2013. The High Line. It's a mile-long park built on an old elevated railroad track in lower west Manhattan. There's a breeze off the water and quirky buskers and artists and what is, I'll bet, the best pretzel cart in all of New York.  Barclay and I were having one of those lazy mornings and we didn't know what to do with ourselves, so we got some coffees and wandered up through Chelsea and climbed some stairs and there we were. We sat on a bench looking out over the harbour and Barclay read to me while I stuffed a pretzel in my face (almost all at once because it was too delicious for breaths between bites).

These are the kinds of memories that I keep in the front of my head so I can sink into them at night when I'm having trouble sleeping.

{settling in}

We're all settled in on the other side of Albert Street. Still no internet (I'm using my iPhone as a hotspot for now), and I miss the Village like crazy, but otherwise I'm feeling pretty at home here.

I have to say though: it's a very grown-up kind of house. It has a dishwasher and air conditioning. It has granite countertops. It has those kitchen drawers that go K-SHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh when you slam them. I've lived here two weeks, and all of a sudden I feel like I should be a forty-two year-old professional woman. I feel like I should make my bed every day, and bake cookies in the evening instead of going to shows, and wear high heels, and attend PTA meetings. I don't even know what PTA stands for. Parent. Teacher. Armadillo.

I know that's not it. But maybe? But it's not. I know.

I haven't really acted on any of these new urges (except the baking one; as you can tell by this palatable mound of cookies, crisps, granola bars and cheese bread on the counter beside me), and I think if I resist them long enough they'll go away. (The urges, not the baked goods. I'm going to eat the baked goods.)

Anyway. I'm looking forward to having you all over for a games night. In the move I dredged up some good ones--a Babysitter's Club board game, a Happy Days board game, and one called "Seek Physique" in which you could actually draw a card that makes you run around the house three times, or do 20 pushups. It's pretty gruelling. AKA fun.

Signing off now. Going to go make my bed and google PTA.