get outta here!

three years.

THREE YEARS!

g and i celebrated our three-year anniversary yesterday. i can't even deal, it just seems so fast. but then again, it feels like he's been in my life my entire life. all 26 years of it.

it's no secret that i am madly in love with this guy. and if you've read previous posts, then you might understand why. i won't get into the nitty gritty of how i feel about him. rather, let the photos do the explaining...

here are my favorite photos from each year being together:

2010: on our first out-of-town trip

2011: when we feel in love with seattle

2012: travels to costa rica...

...and climbing our asses off in yosemite

2013: exploring big sur...

...and counting down the months of celebrating one year as a family of three.

happy anniversary, snacky! you will forever be the (almond) butter to my bread.

must document

mama and i spent the day together. and it was great. but even more than that, we shared a moment - a truly special moment - in a dressing room.

and i will remember it for the rest of my life.

that is all i'm going to say. i just had to document this day.

reason

the talk of traffic/crowd-induced anxiety is no foreign topic on this blog. as a matter of fact, it's no foreign topic in my life. there have been coffee shop confessions of throwing fits in the car, crying frantically, and mapping out my days to the T to avoid a.) throwing fits in the car and b.) crying frantically. i'll be the first (okay, maybe the last) to admit that i have a problem.

it's interesting that i live in los angeles, the city renown for its traffic laden streets and busting-at-the-seams public places, when i clearly have an issue with crowds. actually, i don't even think it's the crowds that give me anxiety, but rather the time that's wasted getting from here to there or doing this or that. time.

i won't get into the details of the meltdown i had earlier today, but let's just say it was triggered by traffic. at noon! on a weekday! one hour spent going to the market for a handful of things, two miles away! the anatomy of my meltdown was nothing to brag about either. to be honest, it was pretty pathetic. i let my anger and raw emotion get the better part of me, to the point that i couldn't reason thoroughly. to the point that my tears blinded my vision of what was in front of me: gino.

during my aimless pacing and venting and crying spells, there he was, by my side, being my reason.

"how could i just waste my day on the road, only to buy a couple of things?!" i asked impatiently, expecting some type of validation, some kind of pity party. and then g responded, "you're here now." 

at the time, his response didn't make sense because i didn't want it to make sense. but it totally makes sense. after a hug, a glass of water, and a dose of deep breaths, my heart opened to the root of my anxiety. time. time. time. and the desire to control it.

so this is my struggle. a desire to control time, when in fact, it is out of my control. i can't control the people on the roads or the lines at the market, which definitely means i can't control the time spent waiting among them. i can't control when the sun rises and sets, when the weather is cool enough for running and warm enough for swimming. so why bother with the angst? the worry? the internal voice that leads me to believe that time is running out?

i don't have the answers, and i can't say that i'm a changed woman after realizing all of this earlier today. it's going to be a work in progress now that i understand the root of the problem. time control. it boggles my mind how g continues to be by my side through my internal conflict, how he has the patience to listen to me, care for me, and love me with such greatness that i feel ashamed for accepting it. but i do because i know that through the fight, i will be a better woman, a stronger woman. and g deserves that. as he loves me unconditionally and manifests grace daily, i will do whatever it takes to clear myself of my time-controlling burden so that i can be fully present, in the moment, living life together.

on labeling

labels, the great manifestation of organization! 

or rather, the idiot-proof way to differentiate jars of almond meal and pastry flour, fine sea salt and sugar.

prior to living with g, i had no need for labels. since it was just me by my lonesome, i rarely baked or even cooked, for that matter. my spice rack was spice-less because it never seemed logical to buy a full jar for a teaspoon of this or that. the only things that were full in my kitchen were the fruit bowl and fridge - loaded with fresh produce, labeling unnecessary.

and then i move in with mister kitchen-aid, king of ingredients. open the cabinet and behold every type of legume, grain, sugar, etc. when we first started dating, i was smitten by not only his bounty of cooking/baking goods, but also by his methodical labeling. i had met my match, indeed.

almost one year living together, labeling has become instinctive to me. as soon as we buy some loot (of the jar-able kind), we take it out of the original packaging to create room on the shelf, transfer it to a jar or canister, and label it. by doing this, we are saving space, reusing containers that would otherwise be thrown away/recycled, and making life helluva lot easier to locate things. happiness!

and just to put out there, i don't use any fancy-shmancy labeling machine. only a piece of paper, pen, and good ol' tape...just the way i was taught. 

just listen

i've felt exhausted today, my day off. after working two busy shifts on the unit, i had been craving this day of freedom. i created a list of productivity, an assortment of to-do's: go on a run, do laundry, buy some tidbits at target, study, bake granola, prepare a fun meal with g. but something deep inside me has been fighting the activity.

i felt the fight during my run, when my body sought relief at stoplights. i felt it when i glanced at my study material and thought "screw it." i even picked up on this exhaustion when g asked if something was wrong since i had been oddly quiet all morning. the thought of preparing a meal tonight seemed so daunting that i even entertained the possibility of ordering pizza for dinner. sheesh.

i have a feeling this sense of depletion is a manifestation of busy days at work, but how dare it rob me of being productive on my day off! i need this day to do things, dammit! but of course, something deeper said otherwise. that i need this day to be. be thoughtful. be peaceful. be still and just listen.

and so, here i am, writing in my moleskin in the courtyard of a charming cafe, with no prospects of going to target, studying, or baking granola. to be honest, i feel that the less i fight this internal voice, the more i'm gaining in my day. like rest. i even feel inspired to make a meal for g, because even in the setting of my own exhaustion, i am thankful for the promise of his selfless love. friday, today you are my sabbath.

29

married twenty-nine years and going strong, my parents have this thing about them that works. and when i say "works," i mean "sparks." growing up, i think i took their relationship for granted. it never crossed my mind that not all parents get along the way mine did. and it seemed far-fetched that not all parents love each other the way mine did and continue to do. life at home felt so natural, and the relationship before my eyes seemed so effortless. comfortable. organic.

fast forward 15 years, the latter three shared with g, and i've realized that what my parents have is respect, trust, and the will to fight life's unforeseen battles...together. mama couldn't be more different than daddy, and vice versa, but they meet where it matters. like lounging in their backyard. or over a plate of tacos at the local mexican joint. or in the family room on a saturday morning with their coffee, newspaper, and spoiled-ass dogs. and yet with all of their "differences," they find their common ground in the life they created together, the life that took 29 years to refine and learn to understand.

and so as g and i enter the month of the third year being together, i am humbled by my parents' example of real-time love. that i can be who i am and g can be who he is and we can love each other deeply as long as we both believe that the life we share together is worth refining. 

this past weekend, when g asked my dad what the secret was for a healthy marriage, my dad replied "a sense of humor." and with that, i'd say g and i are headed in the right direction.