The Chocolate: an unabashed, whole-hearted, autumnal endorsement

are you looking to buy happiness? are you looking to buy love?

well at the Chocolate (212 s State, Orem) you can buy both!

listen men, if you take a girl here some chilly fall night, buy her some Spice hot chocolate, sit her down in one of the cozy sitting rooms, and go to work figuring out what makes her tick, she will be YOURS. i make this guarantee sans equivocation.

listen ladies, be careful what men you allow to take you to the Chocolate, as you will enter with your wits about you and leave with your heart in their hands.

on days when i walk around a lot on campus, i have a lot of thoughts.

i say "have a lot of thoughts" instead of "think a lot", because really there is very little of the active verb going on, and very much of rather odd thoughts hitting me like oncoming trains. which usually results in me laughing or gasping as i am walking around. that's right. i'm that girl.

today i had two thoughts:

1) the brunettes with bangs have a special understanding. we see each other on campus, and we always say hi. like, "oh hey i bet you're a really great girl." and the brunettes with bangs who dress like they shop at garage sales and vintage stores are all but a secret club. like, "oh hey i bet we could be really great friends." which, as we all know is a step up from just thinking someone's a really great girl. i feel like i have secret friends everywhere i go, in this lovely and exclusively friendly group of bang-girls.

2) walking through the business building (in which all the attractive boys on campus tend to be) while eating an apple is not a good idea. trying to smile at cute boys with cheeks full of apple = really, really unattractive.

with any luck, i just might have a third thought today. stay posted...

false conceptions of time

SCENE: melissa, seven years old, playing carolyn a song she wrote on the guitar.

melissa: "you play the guitar, carolyn--you should be famous. but your life is over. too bad."

carolyn: "wait, what? my life is over?"

melissa: "yeah, you're old. all you have left is to get married, and then you die a few years after that."

camille: "no, melissa, she has a long life ahead of her! think of how long mom and dad have been married!"

melissa: "yeah, they're going to die as soon as carolyn gets married."

[uncomfortable pause]

melissa: "sooo....what should i write my song about?"

carolyn: "why don't you write it about how my life is over?"

melissa: "your life isn't over! you might not even get married! you might be a nun!"

and that thought is supposed to comfort me? either i get married and die, or else i live a long, nunly life? awesome melissa, thanks.

but you know, when she said, "your life is over" the first time, it cut me to the quick--oh my oh my. you know that song by baz luhrman, the sunscreen song, about how "in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you"? not to mention images of uncle rico throwing his football into the sunset? yes, these thoughts all came rushing forth with frightening ferocity.

so here's what i think: there are two ways to look at life:

TAKE ONE: the "i coulda been a contender" approach. man, i have missed so many opportunities. i could have really gone far with ballet/piano/ballroom/spanish/art, but none of them really took off. if only i had really applied myself!

TAKE TWO: i have an ENTIRE LIFE plus ETERNITY to learn everything i want to! enter photojournalism class and ballet class, enter deciding i can be famous at 24. man, i'm just a youngin'! and i'm well on my way to learning everything there is to know about everything AND becoming famous and married in the process, which are apparently the two most important things to life-happiness, according to a seven year old girl. what an adventure!

national relaxation day

today is national relaxation day, aka: be-as-comfortable-as-possible-all-day-long day. i am celebrating said holiday in many ways. for one, i wore my cardigan to church. cardigans are one of the most comfortable things in the world (next to that amazing blanket that kristen and i found in our apartment two years ago. it was magical: you'd wrap yourself up in it, go to sleep on the couch, and have the happiest, most peaceful dreams of your life!)

a second way i am celebrating is by cooking. jackie and i got home from church and started cooking. she made cookies (i say, is there anything more comforting than a warm chocolate chip cookie? especially when it's rainy and dark outside? nothing!) and i cooked beans. before i go on, i need to explain these beans. i was at an asian grocery store this week. (a very odd string of events including a thrift store, a nauseous girl, and Five Guys, and i end up in an asian market). it smelled like fish and flavorings that my nose didn't really like. somehow i ended up buying this huge bag of fresh green beans. and when i say huge, i'm talking basketball-size bag of green beans. so today was the day to cook them. we found a recipe with pecans and onions and so on and cooked up the bag--the whole of it--into this warm, buttery pan of goodness.

and that was dinner kids! no main dish, no bread on the side. just the beans.

one hour later, we're still sitting at the table, eating beans, until we get here:

a-mazing. so gross, and oh, oh so good! now we're taking naps on suede couches and lovesacs and we couldn't be more content, comfortable, or relaxed.

rainstorm day

woke up to rain.

torrential rain.

the kind that screams: SHHHH! on your window and walls.

i nestled back into my blankets,

a tightly packaged bundle right up against the window,

and fell back asleep.

woke up next to the criss-cross of sunshine across my room,

and a bird unweaving the angry mess of a storm

with her sweet song.

a little late night letter

dear boy,

i am six years old when it comes to you. i giggle nonstop, i say things trying to sound smart but just end up sounding like i'm trying to sound smart, i flirt in the most bashful, obvious, six-year old ways. it really is a sight.

i'll try to think up something clever to say to you tomorrow, but judging by my track record, i'll stumble all over my words, stumble all over the sidewalk, and otherwise look like a complete fool trying to catch your attention.

silly me,

carolyn

a summer of daytrips

last night, my roommate said, "i think it's great that you have literally had a summer of daytrips!" that is exactly what it has been--seeing as much of this beautiful city as i can, everyday a new adventure. here are pictures from yesterday:

the national arboretum (fields and fields and hills and hills of trees, ferns, and flowers)

and the iwo jima memorial:

the monument is shockingly large. i was expecting something lifesize. it is, instead, monumentsize. there was a man with an american flag bandana wrapped around his head, carrying a very large bag walking through the park. i imagined stories for his life--walking across the country, a veteran, a hippie, a forest gump, who knows.

eat, pray, love, READ

i'm reading eat pray love right now by elizabeth gilbert. it is just the book i need--lovely little proses, a journey story, thick with imagery. the other night i came across chapter 18. i could hardly believe what i read, in lieu of my experience at the mall a few weeks ago. i decided to include it here, as her words are exactly as i felt. she calls it a "strange interior gesture of friendship":

In New York City..., I walked into an office building one afternoon in a hurry, dashed into the waiting elevator. As I rushed in, I caught an unexpected glimpse of myself in a security mirror's reflection. In that moment my brain did an odd thing--it fires off this split-second message: "Hey! You know her! That's a friend of yours!" And I actually ran forward toward my own reflection with a smile, ready to welcome that girl whose name I had lost but whose face was so familiar. In a flash instant, of course, I realized my mistake and laughed in embarrassment at my almost doglike confusion over how a mirror works. But for some reason that incident comes to mind again tonight: Never forget that once upon a time, in an unguarded moment, you recognized yourself as a friend.

charmed life:

the evening air was perfect for a summer evening out.

he and i rode bicycles to hear jazz in the sculpture garden. the lawn was a jungle of picnickers, all about our age, all in little circles on blankets, chatting, drinking, unwinding. eating grapes. the conversations buzzed over the jazz, so the park became a mishmash of stories and faces. we rode up the sidewalks to 501 7th street for dessert and people-watching. after frozen yogurt with berries and m&ms, we were escorted past the monuments by the last of the season's fireflies, a reminder that we too would be leaving this summer-warmth and -possibility all too soon.

d.c. is the most beautiful place. someday i want to fall in love here. to me, humidity in the evening is one of the most romantic places to be. we would sit by the waterfall in the falling light, the one in front of the museum of american history. we would ride bicycles every night through neighborhoods with giant magnolias heavy with leaves thick like hands. we would sit on the steps of the lincoln and tell secrets.

there would be lots of music and lots of adventures and lots of time spent walking

and getting to know each other

and riding bicycles through the evening air.

the big apple: foodie style

when in new york....

eat blackberry gelato!

then, after walking yourself all around soho, little italy, and chinatown, get lunch at la esquina--tacos and mm-mmmm.

have breakfast at tiffany's:

buy a rotisserie chicken and eat it. no fruit, no veggies, no rolls. just the chicken. with forks. on tinfoil because there are no plates. under one lamp in a dark-dungeon of an apartment. we are high class. obviously.

we also shopped a lot...

...and i present you with the find of the century: an old-school f/2.8 lens and lens case: $9, vintage thrift, shop on 23rd. so in love with shopping vintage and having magic fall into my hands.

it was a happy weekend, being with tiffany. but i will say this: new york is dirty and everywhere you go you're assaulted by some weird smell. the weekend made me miss the district. i am happy to be "home."

(oh what, did i just call dc home? yes, there will be tears when i leave.)