connections

to the older gentleman who noticed my preference for english breakfast tea as an early morning pick-me-up, thank you. thank you for starting a conversation about the differences between irish and english breakfast teas, reassuring me that there is, in fact, a difference. we totally connected this morning.

to the french gal standing behind me at the market, thank you. thank you for complementing my sandals and starting a conversation about our blissful santa monica weather. i am completely enamored with the morning fog, too. and your accent...take me back to paris. connection, success.

to the guy singing his heart out in the car next to mine, thank you. thank you for appreciating your music to the extent of letting it all out, being so focused so as to not pay attention to my own jam session. little do you know, guy in the prius, that we connected.

and to the employee at starbucks who refrained from hassling me about using the bathroom even though i wasn't a customer, thank you. thank you for noticing the panicked look on my face as i made a detour during my run, practically diving into the bathroom...sweaty as hell. for this connection, my bowels owe you everything.

even in the city where it seems impossible to connect with others, i'm finding that we are able to live in synergy...as long as i'm open to it.

the best part

"...and it occurred to me that the choices we're making each night, compiled, would surely say something about us - illuminate even the smallest part of this great unknown ahead of us..."

- The Gastronomy of Marriage

i've always considered dinnertime to be the best part of the day. from morning till evening (and quite possibly the day before), my mind spins madly with the possibilities for the night's meal. there's always been something alluring about stopping everything, sitting down at the table (or couch or bed), dimming the lights, and dedicating time to the final meal of the day. and it's during this time that i feel most connected to the people around me, that a story is in fact being written.

recently, g's work schedule has changed quite significantly. long gone are the days lounging around together, as we both had schedules that allowed us to boast about our midweek "weekends." all day, we would be planning for dinner - the theme, the ingredients, the wine pairing. nowadays we have limited time together, forcing us to plan quickly and prepare efficiently so as to avoid eating dinner past 9 pm. 

it's been a remarkable change, one that makes me evaluate the significance of dinnertime. i'd be lying if i said i haven't considered going our separate ways for dinner so that we could eat when it was most convenient for each of us. but then that's it - going down that route would strip us of the very value we share so dearly: the meal as ritual. 

we're learning how to adapt to this change in pace, and although not easy, i'm finding that it's well worth the effort. at the end of the day, there is nothing i would rather do than break bread with the man of my life, celebrating our nourished bodies, souls, and love.

the perimeter

lately, my choice running route has been the perimeter of ucla. it was my favorite trail in college for a few reasons: its proximity, its varying elevations, its average length, and the fact that it was the freakin' perimeter of a freakishly stunning campus (!!).

these days, i've seemed to chosen it for even more reasons.

it's comforting. it's like home. during the crazy-ass days when there are a million things on my mind, the ucla perimeter silences everything. it allows my body to take over. i have adapted to the terrain so much so that i know exactly when to conserve my energy (sunset blvd is a beast, yo). when i run past a particular wall of bushes, i can anticipate the scent of cinnamon toast crunch (don't even ask. to this day, i still don't know where that smell comes from). and after innumerable times running this trail, i know what times to avoid it so as not to be caught in direct sunlight while going uphill. it's muscle memory, if you will.

and as i run the perimeter today, in the present, i can't help but reminisce about the past - those days when i would come home to 11067 ophir, with emma baking some type of glorious treat and abby writing some massive, incomprehensible-to-the-average-jo-schmo paper. my heart swells with the purest joy.

with these specific memories, the freedom the trail brings, and the comfort knowing i have a forever home, i declare the ucla perimeter one helluva run.