MONDAY CONFESSIONS

Confession #1: I can't bend like that anymore because of the weight I've gained since graduation. My goal is to be able to bend like this again.

Confession #2: Hilary Duff is making a come back tomorrow with a single release called Chasing the Sun. It's like I'm a 12-year-old fangirl again and I'm not afraid to admit it.

Confession #3: My most recent Google search was "How can a white girl get an afro?" I was dead serious. And if you have any suggestions, I'll gladly take them because I'm still dead serious.

Confession #4: I spend most of my time shopping online for things I don't need with money I don't have. So it's really the biggest waste of my life. And it helps me become a little more style-savvy... If you need things and have money, some of my favorite places are brickyardbuffalo and zulily.

Confession #5: Earlier this week I tried giving Pretty Little Liars a second chance. Mostly because it's on Netflix but also because I was too much of a scaredy-pants to get through it the first go-around. After episode four, I had nightmares and couldn't sleep by myself.





xo.pa

SUNDAY QUOTE

There's nothing else to say.






xo.pa

this is what lazy days do to people

I have been so. incredibly. lazy. the past couple of days. For real. I've literally spent more hours in my bed this past week than I think I have in my whole life. It's horrible but secretly satisfying and life continues on. So it's whatever.

I've thought a lot about when I lived in London. Because two years ago this time of year I was getting ready to leave. And I've thought a lot about how I need to go back. For the betterment of my health. Or really just because I want to. But a dry bank account is preventing that. 

So I write poetry instead.. . 

Negatives.
If all the world was black and white
we'd view everything in variants of
dark and light,

and understand the idea that took
far too long to install,
that we're really just the same
inside after all.





xo.pa

on forgetting.

Chartes, France // Shakespeare & Co. Paris, France // Amboise, France

Sometimes I forget that blogs are more entertaining when there are photos. You're welcome. 

Sometimes I forget to remember where I came from and the places I've been. Physically and emotionally. I forget that no one will care if I spent lunch in the library. I forget that no one will dwell on how mean I was myself. I forget that in the big scheme of things who I was doesn't matter. She doesn't exist anymore. Just who I am now. I forget that everything is going to work out the way it’s intended to. And I forget to tell people I love them. Sometimes it’s okay to forget.

Sometimes I forget that at times it’s completely normal to feel like everything’s falling apart, especially when I wake up with a couple new mountains on my forehead and naturally dry elbows and more knots in my stomach than in my headphone chord. I forget that it's okay to spend an entire day in bed for no particular reason. I forget that it’s okay to cry and to feel hurt, and it's okay to feel alone.

Sometimes I forget that it’s okay to make a mistake. I forget that no one is perfect. I forget that it’s okay to mess up. It's okay to have failures. It’s okay to freak out. It’s okay to back up. It’s okay to do things backwards and then learn what is best for you.


Sometimes I forget and that's okay.

Sometimes I forget that it’s okay to feel like I'm stuck on repeat and everyday blends into the next. I forget that I can change that. I forget to play the cards I've been dealt and live the life sitting here in front of me instead of praying for a better hand. I forget that I am blessed with a strong mind, a stronger heart, and a beautiful life. 

Sometimes I forget that I’m not the only person in this world. I forget that I’m not the only one struggling. I forget that there are millions of beautiful people every day who are crying and dying. I forget how blessed and capable I am.

Sometimes I forget that it’s okay to eat a burger and two ice cream cones for dinner. I forget that it's okay to run errands in your bathing suit. I forget that it’s okay to dance to Mat Kearney in the middle of the grocery store and not to care who’s watching and what they're thinking. I forget that it’s okay to live completely out loud.

Sometimes I forget and that’s okay.

Sometimes I forget that this isn't it. That there is so much more to everything. I forget that I won’t feel this way forever. I forget that I'll be able to drive a car again. I forget that relationships can heal. I forget it’s okay that I hate when my hands smell like peanut butter even though I’m not allergic. I forget that one day if I work hard enough, I will be successful in my ambitions.

Sometimes I forget to rely more on God. I forget that Satan is a real force of evil that is continuously trying to make me biff it AFV style, in a spiritual sense. I forget that if Satan is trying someone then she should know she's doing something right. He only tries to break those that are on The Lord's side. And I forget that if the temptations to gallivant through the darkness stop then I should start to worry because he probably is making me a jersey, because he thinks that I'm on his team.

Sometimes I forget that I'm still learning. I forget I'm learning to allow myself to make mistakes. I forget that it's okay to feel the pressure to just be better than who I was, to be healthy. I forget that I'm trying to become better. A better friend. Better sister. Better daughter. Better runner. Better thinker. Just better. And then I forget to strive until I’m satisfied, and I forget to fight until I've won. So I’m still fighting. And I’ll never stop. 

Sometimes I forget these things
but then I remember;
it’s all going to be okay.

xo.pa

The need for sunscreen

When I was in high school I was introduced to this poem by a teacher. It made sense so I printed it on blue paper and laminated it. I guess I forgot about it until I this week because I'm sunburned. And it sucks. The sun turned my skin into at least four different ethnicities. Seriously, you should see me naked. I might regret the last sentence, but I'm not gonna take it back.

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future

Sunscreen would be it. 

The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice

has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now. 

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, 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

and how fabulous you really looked.

You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future.Or worry.

But know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real trouble s your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind. The kind that blindside you at 4PM on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts.

Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind.

The race is long. And in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults.

If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40. Maybe you'll do the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.

Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's. Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance.

Even if you have nowhere to do it but in your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings. They are the best link to your past.

And the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go. But get the precious few you should hold onto. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle. Because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once. But leave before it makes you hard.

Live in Northern California once. But leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths. Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You too will get old. And when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young. Prices were reasonable. Politicians were noble. And children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair.

Or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.

Be careful with whose advice you buy. But be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off. Painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

--Baz Luhrmann

Just look at this instead.  

Me riding a whale and breaking her back while doing so. 

xo.pa

on being.

I want to be my life, not do my life.

Doing leads to check marks. Being leads to Heaven. 

xo. pa

21.

Yesterday was my birthday. I'm twenty one now. 
And here's my ice cream cone of sagacity:

1. It's actually okay to be you. In fact, you need to be. And please do. Be you beautifully and completely and wholly, without justification.

2. The truth always surfaces. Because it must.

3. Date the hell out of a lot of great men and don't regret it.

4. Be a woman with edge. Wear dresses. Be gracious. Curse occasionally. (see three)

5. You need someone in your life to be your biggest advocate. And you need to let them be.

6. God is there. Always. And He loves you. Always.

7. Wordlessly demand respect and you will receive it.

8. Take care of your body and the respect and appreciation will come. 

9. Rain is never an inconvenience. It's refreshing. Let it be. 

10. Please don't limit yourself to friends who are just. like. you. Let people broaden your views.

11. Be humble. Understate. Be bold. Flaunt.

12. Let the unknown be delicious. 

13. Let the past be. It's gone and over with. So there isn't much you can do but let it go. 

14. Don't always take your girlfriends advice. Your heart might be right. 

15. Figure out what you think and believe before others tell you what to think and believe. 

16. Be opinionated. Be boundless. Have passion.

17. Let your love be so big that it spills right out of your heart. And then let people swim in it.

18. Surround yourself with the people who love your weird. 

19. Open yourself to learning--purposefully stretch your mind.

20. Realize that the world doesn't end. So when you find yourself on the bathroom floor with mascara running down your cheeks know that you will make it. You will. You always will. 

21. So have a little faith.

xo.pa

the woman I want to be

I peaked in first grade when I won a Martin Luther King essay writing contest for grades K-12 and it's been downhill for me ever since.

There have been little peaks on my decent, of course, with other minor achievements. But I can't find myself discovering anything more monumental than I did on that cold January evening as I concluded my essay.

I was a little girl then, and I wrote about the dream of a man who had altered and unraveled the views of America which eventually created the equality we know today. Everything about him--his gumption, his beliefs, his words--is real and empowering. And that's just the thing. He wasn't afraid to let himself be heard--to outwardly be himself--which for him, was a rather scary approach.

It was then, as I sat there scribbling away, that I realized I have a dream, too.

I have a dream of the woman I want to become, the woman I feel God has intended for me to be. I haven't always known where life would take me (obvi) or what to do with my life (duh) and circumstances were not always ideal (life). But deep down I've always known that woman. And I discovered who that woman was that evening.


I want to be the kind of woman that is happy because she lives life wholly. Not fully, but wholly.
Which part of that wholeness is sadness, disappointment, frustration, failure--everything that makes us who we are. Happiness and fulfillment and triumph are nice little things that will also happen, but do they really teach us much? I'll have a board on my wall with the word "wholeness" painted on it, and every day I'll ask myself, "Is this contributing to my wholeness?" and if I'm having a bad day, it is.

I want to be a woman who embraces life. Who is happy but doesn't fear the sadness. To have balance. Balance between investing in all the right things and paying attention and putting forth all my efforts and then being able to let go and not care.

I want to be the kind of woman that takes care of herself. To not be afraid of her dreams. Dreams of every sort. To have wrinkles around my eyes and lips from all the laughter and smiling. And to laugh loud, loving with all the kindness in the world.

I want to eat healthily and move my body because it's good for me. To be a woman who takes off her make-up every night and actually flosses her teeth the number of times recommended by the dentist. And wears heels...or no heels is fine, too.

I want to live life out loud and to be unapologetically authentically myself. I can't imagine anything more beautiful than a girl unabashedly being the woman God intended for her to be. And becoming that woman. I want to open my mind to every form of beauty.

I want to have a career--a part of that career being motherhood--and be successful at it. For my babies to come to me before they go to someone else because we have that kind of relationship. That trust. That love.

I want to be the kind of woman that gives other women the want to be better. To be thankful for everything. Truly thankful. Even the really small things. Small things like pearl earrings.

I want pictures everywhere. And frames everywhere. And words. But instead of seeing borderline-bad-interior-decorating, it will remind that I have a good and full life.

I want to always pray beneath trees that reach upward and outward.
I want to be a God-fearing woman. Because I know He's real. That He's there and that He cares. And I know that He always will be. And that sets me free. Because in the end that's what we all really need, right?

Freedom.

Freedom.
God gives that.







xo.pa

these days I spend the majority of my time:

+ streaming iTunes radio

+ sending pictures of my outfits to my style-savvy sister to give me a "red light/green light"

+ figuring out how to keep my skin moisturized with no humidity

+ perusing the internet for things I'm too poor to ever own

+ changing in and out of sweats because I can't accept how stupid hot it is

+ looking at photos from London

xo.pa

fourth of july

The past few weeks have been about drinking in everything there is to this stage of life.

At the beginning of the year, I had this feeling that everything was about to shift--a deep intuition that this was the time my life would be drawn into a before-and-after in a cataclysmic way. And it was because I was giving my life away for eighteen months of service to God. But my mistake was thinking that the line was vertical. That this change would strike down at a singular point.

It's horizontal. Definitely horizontal. 

A process. Just like everything else these days. 

There is only building. and fighting. and straightening out. and rising.

The line is horizontal. And I'm a process.

I decided early on this year that I can't spend my time waiting for something to pass, or waiting for something to happen, or waiting on anything really at all. Life goes whether you're waiting or not. Whether you're being prodded along or striding at speed or sprinting full-force ahead. It goes.

And I'm doing my best to go with it and not wait for it.

I'm so afraid of taking the wrong path that I don't even own the one I'm on. And then I miss it. I miss my life. And I forsake these beautiful, raw moments because this can't be it, nope. Whatever it is...

So I moved to Arizona. Not because it was what I wanted but rather what I needed. Because I have to stop discrediting my life--this process--with my doubt and negligence. I have to rid myself of the terror and start prodding alongside faith. 

I don't know how anything ends. I don't know where this process is taking me. I don't know my way. So I'm weaving one, the best I know. And at the end I'll look back and say, oh. Oh, so that's how it was supposed to go. It was all supposed to go that way. 

And I drunk it all in. 

Beginning with a fourth of July weekend roadtrip: 

  












+Sunset Crater Volcano Flagstaff, AZ

+Montezuma's Castle Sedona, AZ  
+Taylo and me waving our flags for America 
+Bike tour of the Grand Canyon
+Us at the Grand Canyon (obvi)






xo.pa

The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself. | Anna Quindlen






xo.pa