Hymns and Memories.

This was my first Easter not being with my family. I didn't realize how much I really wanted to be there until I couldn't be. I loved the people I spent my day with and I had such a good day!...and yet here I am...baking muffins and listening to gospel music at 10:30 on a Sunday night...thinking about weather.

Weather. White people love complaining about the weather.

The warmth of the day made me nostalgic. I'd forgotten what warmth felt like. I also realized, this 76 degrees doesn't feel like California's 76 degrees. The weather here is different; the weather brings different feelings and memories. Everything is different. Rain, sun, cold, wind.
Mostly the wind.
Chicago wind breaks umbrellas. Chicago wind blows up your dress. Chicago wind makes incisions in your skin and makes a home right in your bones. Chicago wind rips the beanie completely off your head and carries it in its aggressive, choppy, abusive arms all the way down Wabash Avenue. Chicago wind makes you burst into laughter with its absurd and
California wind curls your hair. California wind carries the scent of churros, weed, and sea salt. California wind is a relief from the direct beams of sun shining on the back of your neck. California wind tickles. California wind is filled with Ke$ha lyrics and too much bass. California wind lifts you up.

It's not good. It's not bad. It's just different.
I appreciate the warmth in a way I never thought I would.
I appreciate the sun. I appreciate not having to wear two pairs of gloves.

The weather here is a really poorly timed, D list comedian style joke. On the first day of Spring it snowed quite a bit and as I was staring into our courtyard and thinking of all the terribly, horrible, awful, no good, very bad things I wanted to happen to the snow when I saw a singular, crunchy, burnt orange, weathered leaf fall from the roof and drift down and land so delicately atop the snow. Where did that come from? It's been 6 months since trees had leaves with colors that can only be found in Fall or underneath a jeep that has been driving too hard in the ocean water. How did it survive? And then I couldn't help but think that if that lonely leaf had kept its color and life through winter and  the beginning of spring, so could I.

My Easter was delightful; I couldn't have asked for better company or festivities.
I bought a purple dress and told people that that would bring Spring....I like to think I brought that back on my own. You're welcome.
I'm just wrapping it up by dreaming of my sweet California family, hymns, and all the cousins getting an equal amount of Easter eggs. The little things.

Clean sheets and Evian.

I'm taking a philosophy class...don't worry, I'm just as confused about that concept as you are. I'm from the middle of nowhere, California. How many deep thoughts have I REALLY had? If you guessed zero, that's still too many. I'm supposed to be evaluating the meaning of life...if we're real...what is life? What is the meaning of flerpflerpflerp...I don't care. I've tried to engage, but I just don't care. I'm a person of faith. I don't mean that in the religious sense, even though that is true too, I just mean in general. If there is something that I don't understand and someone explains it to me, I buy it. I think I have enough discernment to not be dubbed gullible, but I do trust people...probably more than I should, but whatever. I realized I don't belong in a class that can't even enjoy the most basic things in life because I absolutely live for the Little Things.

Little Things like when the house smells like cinnamon after baking.
Like the way the air smells like amber and cotton on that first day of summer.
Like when Evian water goes on sale.

Little Things like when your whole cast sings along to The Killers.
Like when the Golden Girls is on at an unexpected time.
Like when you and your best friend look at each other and have a conversation with no words.

Little Things like an ice blended chai with two add shots from Coffee Bean and Shell Beach at night.
Like when you make eye contact with an older person on the train and the smile in their eyes teaches you something about life.
Like when your niece or nephew grabs your hand and wants to pull you outside to climb on a tree or blow bubbles.

Little Things like when the Friends theme song comes on at Vons.
Like having friends visit and leave the Naked 3 palette because they know you want it.
Like when your boyfriend looks up Angela Lansbury so he's able to talk about your obsession.

Little Things like when someone remembers you love red velvet.
Like when you get to wear the first dress on a breezy Spring day.
Like when babies wear headbands.

Little Things like when your devotional is perfectly applicable to your life THAT MOMENT.
Like when your boyfriend pours your coffee before his.
Like when you found the perfect volume to hear your friends and the N'Sync playlist while you drive with the windows down on the 101 in June.

These Little Things are some of the most perfect moments of my life and they didn't require any analyzing. Are we real? Is this a dream? Is this desk actually in front of me? Eh. I don't know. Quite frankly, I'm a bit busy being happy about the fact that my life is happening to even bother questioning whether it's real or not. Just enjoy it.** Be the Light, kids. You'll slow down the aging process.


**Keep your eyes on Katie Boeck, y'all. I've been in awe of her since high school and she's only gotten better since; listen to her and love her.