lovely little things.

these days, I have to remind myself to stop and breathe in life. love the little lovely things.

like the awesome card from your bff:
or the valentine from your dear friends and their BABY… their beautiful, wonderful babe:

or remembering to watch your all-time favorite movie near enough to valentine’s:

I swear I interpret this film differently every time I watch it. I love it.
and I’m determined to drink a blue ruin someday.

or giggling throughout the day at the misfortunes of your partner in crime.
[which might make me horrid.]

or the full-on incredible valentine’s present from your mom:
crystal_and_hef mom_note

the little lovely things.

pinging joy within.


fox in the snow, diamond in the sky.

The death plague that I’ve contracted from Jackson has given me pause with opportunity to document how wonderful the trip was. I didn’t get to spend time with all my favorite lovelies, but I did get to soak up some supreme mountain time.

[no energy for captions or correct spacing. just good times galore.]

-2glorywithanna newyearsloveliesnewyearsringingin skiingladiescompilationskiday misscolleenyancey   christmastreepie slitdrumbyev annaandsessi   skateskiingfoxinthesnow

hipsterevan friends cuties

[love it here.]

and there was a lot of interpretive rocking hard to this song [not sorry]:

the themed patterns of nowness.

I find that there are themed patterns in my nowness that I vividly recognize.

Comfort/Sameness, Newness/Excitement, Inspiration/Aspiration.  Repeat.


I have been with this boy for two whole years.  [on saturday.]


That boy.  The one in the other room working.  Working on things.  Working on bikes.  Tools.  Giving it his all.

We still laugh at the most ridiculous things.  We are singing the same made up songs [with the same made up dances] about nothings/everythings in our lives.

We hold each other every night, even when we don’t want to.  Even when we [i] cry all evening and we have long, cold silences after short talks about how we just don’t know things, everything is just so hard… we still go to sleep and can’t help but embrace.  Comfort.  Love.

We still sing along to every word of our same favorites… just like we did in March two years ago…


This Missoula thing is still new.  Still exciting.  Every outing outside of work feels new.

I am going to Europe for the first time ever this summer.  I am going to be with my best friend ever, Lisa, in Italy and then we’re off to a Greek isle to celebrate her birthday.  It’s been hard to contain my excitement in every day life.  All I want to do is wrap myself up in the anticipation of this newness.

These new songs, even, somehow, they make me more excited about this upcoming adventure…

[that video is pretty great.]

[that video i cannot say the same about.]


Tonight, Adventure Cycling helped Jacob Segel-Boettner with a screening of his film With My Own Two Wheels.  Wow.  It was so inspiring.

Bikes are powerful.  This film showed how they can be tools that I had never fathomed before.  I highly encourage you to take 42 minutes out of your day to watch it.

The film is beautiful.  Makes me want to make films.  Makes me want to tell more stories.  Makes me want to find stories.  Makes me want to listen.  Makes me want to go do something.

Biking home from the film, the city was alive with bicycles.  Evan and I pulled up to a stop light and not too long after, another cyclist pulled up.

– Did you guys just get outta that bike movie?

– Yeah, we did.  Wasn’t that great?

– Oh, yeah, so good.  It kinda made me feel spoiled.

– Totally.  It’s like, “Why am I not doing that?”

All things to consider.  Inspiring.  Aspiring.

It’s what keeps us moving when the comfort turns into watching How I Met Your Mother in bed over and over and the excitement turns into Pinterest rampages and social networking that makes one, oh, so antisocial.

[i like this pattern.  let’s keep this up.]

where wine comes from!

I am a sucker for free things. 

I’ll take it!  I’ll do that!  Sure, I’ll eat that!

So, I won a two week pass to The Womens Club from a raffle from a 5k Momma and I did whilst she was in town.  I answered the phone call and when they told me I had won this pass, I got excited like I had won a trip to Europe or something.  I was that woman on The Price Is Right that wins a toaster on Plink-o and freaks. out.

Now, I’m determined to squeeze every ounce of worth-ness outta this free-ness… Which means?  Going to every class that I can make.  So, when Zumba was the only class after work and before my radio training, I thought,

Alright, old lady jazzercize-like class… I’ll take you… Let’s do this Zumba.

And it might not be just an older lady thing, but I mean, who’s mom doesn’t do Zumba?  Although, the other day, on the phone with an ex-boyfriend, he reminded me that I’m “not a spring chicken anymore… soon I’ll be a spinster.”  [no clue why that one didn’t work out… shocking.]

So, I wore pigtails to the class to reinforce my youthfulness.

The class started, I stood in the back… a head taller than every single woman in the class, which would’ve been totally helpful if you danced with your head.

I drank a bit of water, looked around.  The music started, the instructor had her Britney Spear’s mic on and started calling out moves… yep, moves… and they all knew them!  I soon, and quite harshly, learned a lot of things.  Let me tell you something about Zumba:  First, it’s not all old ladies, there are a lot of younger ones, too… But listen to me…


Excuse the all-caps and profanity, but my god!  When did all these women have time to go to Step-It-Up Camp 2011?!  I have never been so lost in my entire life.  It was SO hard and complicated!  This one took a close second behind my first hot yoga experience… and second only because I didn’t actually think I was going to die… unless it was of embarrassment…

It was hilarious how bad I was at it!  She would call out things like,

– Grapevine!…  Salsa!…  Shimmy!…  Push it!

And I would try to follow the fourth-row-back-watered-down version of what the instructor was doing, whilst mentally answering her instruction calls in a panicked internal dialog,

– Where wine comes from!… I want some right now!… What I do when I’m imitating a hooker!… Push it real good!

At one point, she literally called out, “The chicken!” and everyone in the class started doing the exact same Mick-Jagger-like dance while I went through every single one of these…

I was so confused by how bad I was at this dancing exercise… mostly because dancing is how I mainly get my exercise

Exhibit A:  my first halloween in jackson… one for the books.

Exhibit B:  fall fest ’09… all the single ladies. danced so hard i stripped down to tank top in front of mostly strangers.

Exhibit C:  allison’s surprise birthday party… makin’ it rain on dan long.

Exhibit D-runk:  rendezvous employee party ’08… you can’t get me to do squats like that without some lil’ wayne. p.s. dabney is winning at life hard at this moment.

Yeah, just click that “Topics of Discussion” drop-down to the left over there and select “sweet dance moves.”  You’ll see.  I like to dance.

But then I realized that it’s just organized dancing that I’m real bad at!  Once I connected those dots in class, I felt a lot better.

Cuz, hell, if we all had a couple cocktails in us, my dancing would look AWESOME… and the rest of the classes’ actually would, too!  Because, let’s be honest, and I’m talking to you, 17-year-old dancing in front of me who keeps adding extra “shimmies” to the routine… You don’t actually look cool!  Yes, you do look slightly cooler than me right now because I look like I’m just doing jumping-jacks wrong… but you just danced like a chicken to Michael Franti in sync with twenty-five other women… don’t try that at the club… or anywhere else than HERE.  [exception: some flash-mob i’ll youtube over and over.]

All in all, I sweat my ass off and I think I’ll probably go back.  Why?  Because the deep down confession is that I don’t find it one bit cheesy for those few steps that I’m actually getting it.   And then right after that Taio Cruz song, we start doing some high-knee-clapping-over-the-head move to a Kelly Clarkson chorus and I couldn’t love it more.  I feel awesome.  And I’m not sorry.

[a little embarrassed, but not sorry.]