Uncategorized, United States

Extravagantly.

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There are days when it feels like everything has been flecked with rose gold and hazel and honey. They are rare and they’re when I feel my heart in my throat and even sleep deprived and synapses slow, everything feels delicious.

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Beauty, Family, lifestyle, Personal, relationships, United States

Less.

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I feel everything so keenly and bluntly today. A grade A example of a seemingly bipolar being, sensing each moment pointedly and on each end of the spectrum. Some fill me with what feels like a hot cup of tea, filled with surprising lemon tartness and smooth honey and warmth and safety, making it difficult to breathe in a way where everything seems to skip a beat- some are ragged and painful and sharp around the edges, making it difficult to breathe and not in the lovely way where everything seems to skip a beat.

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Personal, United States

Birthday.

mama

Last week many celebrated the birthday of my amazing mother, Sheila. We first enjoyed a warm, espresso martini evening complete with a dance party surrounded by our dearest friends (thank you Alicia and Matt for being such awesome hosts!) and anticipated a much-planned weekend at Elk Meadows just across from Hood River for the upcoming weekend.

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Cambodia, Expat, Food, Personal, Phnom Penh

Birthdays.

CT bday

This week I celebrated my birthday. Seeing as it’s not the 1920s and I’m not ashamed (and hope I never will be because how ridiculous is that!) of the year I was born, I’m happy to share my age. I’ve entered a new chapter of life and hit a quarter of a century, something that makes me feel very old considering it feels like I was running around the neighborhood filming sasquatch videos and riding electric scooters with my best friend when we were thirteen just days ago. Not old in the sense that “oh my word my life is fleeting and I am going to get crow’s feet around my eyes and I am going to become a spinster cat lady”, just old in the way that I feel like the past half of my life has whizzed by me like a drone.

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Expat, lifestyle, Personal

A belated birthday.

Hal Mischke

Hal Mischke

As yesterday passed I looked at the date on a number of occasions: 5/28/2014. While signing papers, following up on emails, flipping through my planner, checking on documents. What didn’t occur to me was that it was my late dad’s birthday. It’s very strange that I hadn’t taken note of this or grieved not being able to give him a warm hug and cut him a slice of his favorite German chocolate cake. He was never one for making a fuss for his birthday, ever, so I suppose my lack of remembrance would have been fitting. It did make me question though, has almost five years of him being out of my daily life changed the way I miss him?

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Cambodia, Food, Personal, Phnom Penh

Ceremony.

Grumpy cat inspired- don't let the looks fool you.

Grumpy cat inspired- don’t let the looks fool you.

From the beginning of last Monday, September 30th, until today- it has felt like a constant and unending celebration, understated- yet remarkable, extravagant. From the moment I fell asleep on the eve of my birthday, New Order’s “Ceremony” kept ringing through my head- faintly, softly- but a gentle reminder of the dazzling commemoration of life that comes yearly, if you’re so blessed. The words softly padding through my consciousness every so often:

“This is why events unnerve me,
They find it all, a different story,
Notice whom for wheels are turning,
Turn again and turn towards this time,
All she ask’s the strength to hold me,
Then again the same old story,
World will travel, oh so quickly; travel first and lean towards this time.”

Rather, the onset of the birthday jitters that I so eagerly try to offset, began slightly earlier that night on the 29th when I watched “The Kings of Summer“, a film which onset such nostalgia that I felt like I had drunk a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (I hadn’t, for the record) to bring the onset of emotions I felt as I watched the lead character and his best friend encounter the anxieties, excitements, and downfalls of adolescence in all it’s meticulously planned chaos. It reminded me much of that exact time of me life- the pulling , itching, primal desire to be free, to be a woman of my own, to push forth into territory unknown and make it mine- even if I wasn’t truly ready to in any way. I think back to lounging about with Brooke Miller in her second to oldest brother’s room, sneakily listening to his music and talking about our futures. The men who would eventually sweep up off our feet and take us to Paris and Rome, the dark hair they would brush from their eyes, and the songs we would marry to. She, to Sigur Ros’ “Staralfur” and I, Explosions in the Sky “First Breath After a Coma”.

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Personal, United States

Mills. April 24, 2013.

Glen & Amanda Miller's Wedding, 2012.

The heavy, unrelenting rain accompanied by the low rumble of thunder reminded me of a time not that long ago, but feels like years past.

My first week in Cambodia in the lush hills of Mondolkiri, I fell asleep reading, swathed in mosquito net in bungalows to the same constant growl and the familiar staccato sound of raindrops against the rooftop. Last night I listened to the rain, somewhat masked by the hum of my floor fan from inside my apartment and bundled in soft cotton. As I lay quietly listening to the nostalgic lullaby I thought of my closest friend, Brooke Miller.

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