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I don’t have a lot of pictures of my dad. At least, not many pictures that would be uploadable. To give you a mental picture: 6’2”,  thin, dark brown hair, cut in a perpetual boy’s regular style, short beard, big brown eyes, occasional glasses, shy, but liked to ask you questions, soft spoken, willing to laugh at your jokes, universally adored, born and raised and stayed in southeastern Massachusetts, do the right and responsible thing believer, John Kerry style Catholic.

A good man. A real man, faults like the best of them, but a good man. A man I miss everyday, and today a little extra. Make sure you love your dads a whole lot when they’re around, because as much as you can love them a whole lot when they are no longer here, it’s just not nearly as good.



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i should be counting.

I have brilliant friends. I was reminded today that I don’t have to have all the answers yet. What a freaking relief.

Everything is going to be amazing, and probably everything already is. I just have been worrying too much to notice.


*image borrowed from here

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i *might* complain too much. sorry boutcha.

Yesterday we went swimming here:

It was super. Hubs was there. We floated on those tubes (that are most certainly made for children but only cost $4 apiece, so we buy them every summer) and ate too many potato chips and all the sour patch kids.  Our friends made us laugh until we cried. Then we celebrated an upcoming wedding with some dear sweet friends and ate sandwiches with cucumbers on them. I liked Saturday.

And now it is Sunday. Hubs has gone away again. I have an enormous & rather nerve-wracking work project that I need to get cracking on if I am to maintain sanity for the next week. And I would much prefer to look at beautiful pictures on design blogs of people’s carefree and gorgeous weddings/ dinner parties/ homes/ children/ crafty projects that I could never pull off. Because it’s Sunday, and at the risk of sounding like a complete asshat, I don’t actually get paid enough to work on the weekends.

This is an ongoing life dilemma for me. I work in the nonprofit sector. Before I worked in the nonprofit sector, I worked in public education. I choose these things because I want to feel connected to the way I spend my work life, to feel like it adds value to the world that I live in, and to feel like it matters. But sometimes I really wish that I chose money over value-added, or that I could shake my belief that those two things are mutually exclusive. Because sometimes I don’t actually feel like the work I do is all that meaningful on a personal level. And so then I get in this loop of questioning whether it actually works for me to try to work for meaning or if I should work for money and find meaning in other areas of life, because maybe then I would have the disposable income to really enjoy the non-working part of life. On days like today, Sundays where I need to research and write and think a lot about my job, I wonder if the problem is that I am not passionate enough about the mission or if I am just a little lazy or if it is some of both. It is unnerving to be 32, fairly well-educated (with the student loans to prove it. that’s mostly what proves it, right?), gainfully employed, and still really not know what I want from my career. I think other people at my age know what they want. Am I broken? Can I just take a year off and spend time with a talented life coach and work on my triceps?

So yeah. I’m cranky about working today when I would rather navel gaze.

Also, I definitely don’t want this blog to be about this, but life is kind of about this, so whoops. Oh well. Better luck next time.

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Nope. I don’t hate it.

I got married one month ago. We went on a honeymoon. We came home to Austin. Hubs left the following day. I haven’t seen him since then, but he will *hopefully* be home tomorrow evening, likely at an hour at which I should already be sleeping. He will be home until Sunday, and then gone again for a couple of weeks. And then back for a week, and then gone a few more. My calendar memory is weak, but mostly I know that he is mostly gone until August. And then we have no idea.

So I miss him. I miss him more, as this latest tour was immediately following so much awesomeness and love and crazyfuntimes. But I miss him often, and this has just become a part of our relationship. Because, my friends, my new husband is a working musician. So first, let me answer your questions:

  1. Yes, he gets paid.
  2. Lead guitar, mostly, but also banjo, mandolin, accordion, lap steel, etc.
  3. Maybe you have heard of the band he plays with. Probably not. I’m not bothered either way, so don’t worry.
  4. Nah, I don’t worry about ladies hitting on him on the road. I think it’s sort of cute and funny.
  5. Nope, I don’t hate it.

Let’s talk about #5. I would guess that 97% of the conversations that I have with people about what my significant other does for a living result in people asking me if I hate that he travels so much for work and them telling me that they would hate it. I don’t hate it, and it’s actually not super supportive of you to suggest that I do. When you tell me that your partner works in finance/education/ engineering/ oil and gas/ what the frick ever, I will never ask you if you hate it and then tell you I hate it. Because that would be awkward, right? So yeah. I don’t hate it for the same reason you don’t hate your accountant husband’s job. It’s his job. He loves it. He is fortunate to make a living doing something he enjoys, and I am pretty fortunate to be with someone who loves what they do. The traveling poses some unique relationship challenges. But it also requires us to reach out to other people in our worlds, to build lives that we find personally fulfilling so that we are the best people we can be for each other, to challenge us to figure out how to communicate and make each other feel loved when we are in different places and to not take the time we have together for granted. This is just life for us. It’s just a little different than yours. And dudes, it is totally not rosy all the time. I get mad about things and sometimes feel neglected and wonder how on earth  we will ever make a baby with this schedule. But I choose him and he chooses me and we figure it out. So nope, don’t really hate that at all. But thanks for making me explain.


*photo by Whitney Lee

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oh, hey.

I have a pretty poor track record with blogging. However, because I mention at least three times a week that I would rather be a blogger than have a real day job (which I do have, by the way), here goes nothing.

I lack a cohesive theme. To the blog, and also probably in general. So probably I will post pictures of clothes. And pictures of animals in casts. And tiny rants and pictures of my cat. And also some things with slightly more content, such as thoughts about being 32 and feeling shocked that maybe I am one of the grown-ups in the room, and how I am a happily newlywedded woman who didn’t think she really wanted to get married, and how I actually have a pretty healthy view of self, but still find the way women talk about their flaws to be (often) deeply hilarious.

I make no promises about the merit of this endeavor. Good thing no one is reading yet.

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getting to know me

means getting to know the following cast of characters:
my super hubs

love & love


 my brilliant women

personal board of directors

the folks who made it all possible


two nephews that make family gatherings particularly awesome

layne & andy


the  mayor and ambassador of the ‘hood, william

he hates it, i loves it



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