Alright y’all–it’s been a while. And a lot has happened.
Since I last wrote:
I ran the Urban Mudder.
My family visited and, as always, as soon as they arrived it dawned on me just how much I’d missed them–I miss them.
I learned how to make my mama’s Sangria.
I packed, I moved (okay, my mom packed (thanks Ma, truly don’t know what I’d do without you)).
I lost my Internet until the 10th (whoa, it’s already been two weeks, I really didn’t realize that was tomorrow…) due to unforeseen circumstances during the move.
After having my nephew stay with me, I was reminded that maybe I’m just like my aunt–an awesome person to have in your life, someone totally obsessed with her adorable nephews, but quite possibly not cut out to do the actual parenting thing, because patience? I don’t have it. One day, far, far away–maybe.
I had ice cream truck soft serve for the first time.
I’ve been running, not lifting.
I hit new PR’s–I attribute them to my new arm band, my Nike Pro running hat, Taylor Swift and imagining he’s at the finish line as long as I drop seconds and add distance.
I’ve had Hollywood-esque midnight experiences on the Westside Highway that served as epiphanies to what I want in life–and what I know I don’t.
I’ve been honest with the people around me–but more importantly, I’ve been honest with myself.
I’ve attended Restaurant Week (Beauty and Essex is 100% worth the hype BTW).
I’ve had craft cocktails galore.
I’ve let nights turn into mornings with the girls that I love.
I’ve sat on the edge of the city and taken it all in.
I’ve stood above the city and had the same mini internal celebration that makes my heart swell like the very first time it hit me that I was, in fact, living in the city of my dreams.
It’s still surreal.
I’ve found an amazing donut shop that is currently providing me with wifi to write this very post.
I’ve been happy–and that’s enough.