Monday, July 28, 2014

sara


I've been feeling this heaviness in my heart lately. It generally comes when I'm missing something I know I'll never really have in the same way again. It's almost impossible to articulate, but this is important. I'm going to do my best.

At a first glance, I could see how that might look like some bedroom--small, lacking in a definitive color scheme, obviously shared. I had no idea at the time that I would come to miss this little room so, so much.

When I first moved into my freshman dorm, I shared it with someone who was sort of mismatched to me. She ended up moving out midyear, leaving me with an unheard-of half a semester with a room entirely to myself. The RA explained that they'd pick a new roommate for me, which didn't appeal at all given that the first one hadn't worked out very well. When this was taking place, I was in the middle of a fight with my friend, Sara. As I recall, it was over a boy, but all I really know for sure is that we were on the kind of terms where you pretend not to notice each other at social gatherings. Remember, we were in the middle of not speaking to each other, because it's important.

I found out that I essentially had until December to choose my own roommate. Promptly, I texted Sara and asked her to meet up with me. This was years ago, so I haven't got direct quotes handy, but the conversation essentially went something like this:

Me: I know we're fighting, but I need you to come and live with me so I don't end up with someone I spend all my time fighting with.
Sara: Sound logic. Let's do it.

We signed her over to my room and I helped her cart all her things from the second floor up to the fourth. The decor significantly improved and my life changed forever.



I like to describe all of my best and most worthwhile relationships as the kind where we're on opposite extremes and gradually meet in the middle. When I met Sara, I was overwhelmed by her louder demeanor and take-charge attitude. She was equally underwhelmed with my comfortable status in life as a people-pleasing doormat. During our time together, she taught me how to assert myself more, which came into play immensely when I found myself in a compromising position with abuse. I don't know what I taught her, but I can only guess it was a few obscure new vocabulary words and maybe some appreciation for Spanish music. Jesus, writing this is making me miss her so badly, because she was easily one of the best influences in my life. I think of our time together as these brief flashes of wonderful feelings. I'll let you on in something that might sound strange--I suffer from anxiety. It's gotten better over time, but when I really can't shake it, I think about some of these things to calm myself down. For example...

We used to rearrange our rooms together for fun, and one of our "just-for-us" hobbies was browsing the bargain aisles of home decor stores to find crazy new additions for our walls and desks. None of our bedding ever matched--actually, our sophomore year, that was sort of the point. We both bought the loudest, most colorful things we could, including plastic pink flamingos and cardboard models of Big Ben and the Eiffel Tower and just had a blast with it. To this day, I remember some of those wild posters she used to hang up. I have no idea where she got half of those.

Oh, and quiet afternoons. We'd pop the window open to enjoy the light and breeze. Half the time, we weren't even directly interacting--the TV would be on a Disney movie or something, and I'd be laying on my bed enjoying her company while she asked me questions about whatever was on her mind.

She used to talk to me at night, too. It's like she had some sixth sense for when I was right about to fall asleep. My eyes would close and then--"hey, Katie, did you ever think about what it'd be like if you had to live underwater? Do you think it'd really be that different from living on land?" The most arbitrary questions would come out of her mouth, but I truly never minded. Having someone to talk to was the greatest.


She hated that haircut on me, by the way. She told me in a Dillard's once that it looked like a pumpkin and the saleslady got kind of offended for me. Sara maintained that her feelings remained unchanged. (It was a really bad time in my life for hair, to be fair.) I could always count on her honesty, which, while it wasn't always what I immediately wanted to hear, usually ended up being good in the long run.

Don't get me wrong, we went through some painfully rough times. They just never lasted, and I guess in some way I knew they wouldn't, so they never worried me too badly. It's never fun to fight with people, but there was never this feeling like we'd ever end up wandering too far from each other. There was one other point in time where we went a bit without speaking. She showed up at my friend's New Year's party with my favorite Starbucks drink and we spent the rest of the night upstairs by ourselves talking like nothing had happened. She was always more important than the few problems we had, I guess, which I haven't been able to say about that many people. That same night, she followed me to my car to make sure the boy who was trying to talk to me knew she didn't like him one single bit.

That's the best, too--she saw me through some seriously fucking story-worthy relationships and she kept me from getting completely demolished by them. I do believe she would have been a formidable force had any of these people attempted to do any real lasting damage. She had my back, for lack of better word. If she didn't like someone, I heard about it. If I was making the wrong decision (spoiler alert: young Katie did this all the time), I heard about it whether or not it made me happy. Her honesty is something I valued, because I didn't have a lot of it in my life at the time. We've both outlived all of each others' college relationships but two--our current ones. I maintain that I wouldn't even be in this one if not for her teaching me to value myself and communicate better.

 What else? Oh, my style changed because of her. She used to make faces at my clothes and ask why I always bought them a size big. It's because I was self-conscious, which I tried to explain, but she wasn't really having it. She was sort of ahead of our time in terms of body confidence, and I think she did her best to snap me into it. By sophomore year's end, she had me wearing clothing in the correct size and trying out skirts for the first time in my life. Anyone who knows me now knows that I don't leave the house in pants unless I'm absolutely out of other options. I can thank Sara for that, because now I think I own exactly two pairs.

We took my first out-of-state drive to Disneyland together and had the time of our lives on spring break. Our shared enthusiasm for the entire enterprise made it an experience I'll never forget. (We met so many characters, you guys.)

Almost everything I enjoy now is sort of tinged with shades of people I hold close to me. Everything from Starbucks drinks to leopard prints to the phrase "to be fair" makes me think of Sara at least a little bit, which is hard when we're states apart. To my knowledge, she's pretty happy and doing well, and we talk as often as we can. It's not the same, though--it won't ever be like living together in Flagstaff again. Most days, I can accept it. Other days, it sits deep inside my soul and refuses to move. I miss my friend. I credit her for a lot of positive changes in my life, and sometimes I wish I could have those moments back for just a little bit.


Sara: for all of the mishaps with hair dye, brutal honesty, matching yellow dresses, garish pink flamingos, Disney movies, milkshakes, magazines, arguments, shared anthropology courses and days in the printing room, thank you. These periods of time where I'm missing a piece of myself are good, because it means you were so important to me that I notice when you're gone. I wouldn't feel this sad if I hadn't been truly happy.

That, I think, is how I make peace with it. Tonight, I miss that little room. I probably always will. It won't ever be my home again, but thankfully, I kept the most important thing in it. As long as I can call Sara my best friend, I think I can live with the missing.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

adventures in food

Everyone has their own special criteria for what makes an ideal partner. In my case, you really do have to be adventurous with food. When I first started dating Marcus, he was the exact opposite of that, which made for an interesting conversation considering I'm usually pretty reserved. As I recall, it went along the lines of:

Marcus: I'm pretty picky about what I eat. Just...you know, so you don't get your feelings hurt when you cook dinner. It's not anything personal.
Me: I...what?
Marcus: There are only a few things I like to eat. I'm probably not really--well, what is it you're making again?
Me: I have a special pork chop recipe with white wine and Dijon mustard. It's fun!
Marcus: Yeah, I'm gonna probably just want you to leave a couple of pork chops plain for me. That doesn't sound very good.
Me: ...but how can you say that if you've never tried it?
Marcus: Look, I know I'm just not going to like it. It sounds weird.
Me: Oh my god, this is never going to work between us.

When I brought the dish out, he very grudgingly tried a tiny bite with the mustard sauce--and then promptly ate the rest of the entire pan. Following that, he requested the same meal at least three more times that month (and still does to this day!).

Over the course of our relationship, I've tried to encourage Marcus to try eating new things. My deal is, I don't believe in forcing food on anyone who doesn't like it (including kids!). I do generally request that you try at least a bite of the aforementioned food before declaring you don't like it, though. When I first dragged him to my favorite curry restaurant in Flagstaff, he made me promise that we could go get something else for dinner later if he didn't end up enjoying it. Not only did he find it delicious, he is now so obsessed with Indian food that within our first week of moving here he insisted we go exploring to find our new "place". He doesn't typically to go too long without a reliable supply of his tikka masala, you see.

Lately, he's been the one who's been more vocal about craving food-related adventures--which is great! Today he requested that we try a new Vietnamese place we've seen around one of the outdoor malls, so we took a little drive over together and had some lunch. He tried a sweet curry, I got a lemongrass chicken banh mi, and we both shared my yam fries. We've decided that the place is definitely worth going back to--next time, we're trying the pho soup and a different sandwich flavor. We had a blast! The entire time, we kept watching people's food come by and trying to guess what they'd ordered.

It was just sort of on my mind today that I really appreciate having a partner that I can have these kinds of experiences with. Not everyone considers food (especially of the spicy international variety) to be as high of a priority as I do, which is understandable. Personally, I'm always going to be glad that I was able to sway Marcus just a little bit. The other day, he was talking about how cool he thought it was that he eats so many things he'd never even have touched a few years ago. He hates seafood, but now when we go to the market, he still tries a tiny bite of everyone's food to see what he thinks. Turns out, he enjoys crab! Who knew?

Now, I'll just have to see if I can turn him on to eggs at some point...





Sunday, July 20, 2014

seafood and tiki skirts



Top ~ Deadly Dames Vamp Top in Black
Skirt ~ Jenny Skirt in Tiki
Petticoat ~ Malco Modes (582!)
Shoes ~ BAIT Ida's in Coral

Today was my first time trying out my banging new petticoat. Marcus's dad wanted to go to this seafood brunch at a restaurant near the beach, and he asked everyone to dress up! It's a lot bigger than I'm used to wearing (which is saying something, I guess, because full skirts are pretty standard for me) and I did indeed brush a few people with it on my way to and from our table today at brunch. Also, in the car, it took up my seat + the middle one.

I'll probably try the next-fluffiest down for more everyday outfits, but this was a special occasion so I didn't mind feeling like a cupcake for a few hours. I will say that this petticoat was, being made of chiffon, incredibly comfortable and swishy. It's fun to wear even by itself! 

Now that we're settled, I'm looking forward to getting some more posts written. I've been sort of lax about playing with my camera because I had it packed up for awhile, but I'm thinking it's time to start using it some more. We visit so many exciting places on weekends, and even though I'm very happy to have my phone on me to take the occasional picture, I really should try to get more practice in with my Canon. 

Side note: I can't decide if I want to hem this cute tiki skirt. From some angles, it looks like it's about ankle-length on me (it's not--it comes to maybe mid-calf). In other pictures I've seen, it's supposed to be closer to the knee, so it might be worth trying to make it a little bit more proportionate! Conversely, maybe it's the style and I'll just need to get used to it. Either way, I was very excited to finally get to wear it someplace special! 

Monday, July 7, 2014

irish beach



Non-tropical beaches are vastly underrated.

Granted, when you hear "California beach" and pack all sorts of summery things to wear, it might be a bit of an surprise when you arrive at your destination and discover that your one pair of jeggings (and that jacket you tossed in at the last minute!) is going to pretty much be a necessity all week.

The view makes all of that irrelevant.

Irish Beach is sort of out there in the middle of Northern California. It was a two-day drive from Washington, but the ride there was incredibly pleasant. We had good company! I'll happily talk about that a bit more later, but for now I was just excited to share some of the pictures from the place that reminds me of Briny Beach (any Lemony Snicket fans happen to be passing by?)









I never saw so many weather patterns represented in one spot in so short a time. We took walks around this place on the daily and every single time there was something new to marvel at. It was truly very beautiful.