[This one goes out to Domineau.]

...who is transitioning from one amazing life opportunity to something {hopefully} even better.

source





Or at least, in the words of the great Kelly Cutrone, "if you have to cry, go outside."





So proud of you, roomie!

[i miss this city.]

I've only been back in D.C. a few days, but I already miss this beautiful city. The architecture, the colors, the palm trees, the views, the cool nights... I'm sort of starting to come to terms with the reality that I most likely won't end up back in L.A., at least not permanently, so every time I'm home I try to make sure to take a few more photos of things I love there. This weekend, I grabbed shots of The Getty (best views *and* decorative arts collection in LA), the Bruin theater in Westwood (where I've gone to movies since I was 2 and where they hold all the Hollywood red carpet premiers), the 405 (on which I've spent many an afternoon happily car singing in traffic), and the UCLA track (where we always go on Sunday evening family runs) (I walk).

L.A., you will always have my heart.

[baked and wired.]

If you haven't yet had treats from Baked and Wired, go go GO! I basically can't toodle around Georgetown without stopping here and grabbing a cupcake or cookie (or both, let's be honest...).

Plus, there's a fun chalkboard wall, perfect backdrop for photoshoots of boyfriends and shoesies.

[secret new york weekend.]

So it turns out that if I don't return to civilization at least once every few months, I start to get a little antsy in my pantsy. Chad and I have never done New York together, so we (I) decided that for his last free weekend of the summer (because he has Little League...don't even get me started), we'd go up for a city quickie. I love going back, especially because it usually means I get to see all of my besties (including loves I've been friends with since kindergarten), but that also means I typically spend all my time there running from playdate to playdate. This weekend, we decided to keep our New York trip quiet so that we'd be able to spend the time having fun together, rather than seeing every single person Milan loves. It sort of broke my heart a little to be in the same city as my lovies without seeing them, but it really was such a nice chance to frolic around the city with my boy.

We toodled around Soho and ate and shopped and did nothing much in particular, except the two highlights of the trip (for me anyway), showing Chad around Columbia and seeing The Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. Chad had of course seen Columbia a few times--he even got into grad school there, though he didn't end up attending (yet?). {Can you imagine? If he had gone there, we would have met years ago, but I would have had a boyfriend whom I loved very much, and Chad and I would never have been us...an inspired decision, obviously. ;)} But it was so fun showing him my Columbia--my freshman dorm, the deli I frequented at 3 a.m., the roof I climbed on that one stupid night...and he was very patient and humored me by appearing interested in everything I showed him. (...which means I have to do the same when he shows me BYU...whomp whomp.) Chad had also seen The Phantom of the Opera, but he knew it had been a dream of mine to see it on Broadway since I was a little girl, so he took me. I may have gotten a little emotional in the show, and if he had asked, I would have told him it was because of the story line. In reality, though, I was sitting there thinking, "Look at that boy sitting next to me, literally making my dreams come true..."

Gross. Anyway. We also visited other wonderful places I love, like Strand and Taschen and Topshop and Central Park, and of course we ate well--hello, Norma's. And then after attending church, which was randomly star-studded, Mormon-style (oh hey, L. Tom Perry, Quentin L. Cook, and Sen. Harry Reid), we hopped a bus back to D.C., and that was the end. I've now shown Chad both of my homes, LA and Manhattan. Next month, he'll be showing me his home, Orem, Utah... :)

[Intervention needed.]

[This is my friend. She is amazing.]

So I've sort of come to terms with the fact that I will most likely never be invited to tour with Britney Spears or perform on Conan...but my incredibly talented friend, Jessie, has managed to accomplish both with her band, Jessie and the Toy Boys. Check out her performance from last night! Girl KILLED it!

An old favorite is a song she did as a solo artist a while back, "Trash Me" (and the video features a cameo from my old Young Women's president!).



But my all time favorite is another of her old solo songs, Upside Down 304 (like upside down 07734 = hello -- get it?). Probably not for those of you with delicate sensibilities (which is why there's a link, not a video)...but I love it, especially as there was a time in my life when I found out I had been sharing my boyfriend with some other girl. I obviously dedicated this song to her every time I heard it. :)

SO proud of you, Jessie!!

[Take me out to the batting cages...]

So before our usual Saturday night dinner and a movie date, this week Chad and I went with Steph and Jake to the batting cages in Falls Church. And yes, obviously I wore patent leather espadrilles to the batting cages. Chad made me change into some Converse so I wouldn't roll my ankle, but he obviously doesn't know how coordinated and athletic I am. Case in point--I only missed 6 of the 50+ balls pitched at me. You know you want me on your summer softball league. Steph, on the other hand, demonstrated that hitting is not one of her numerous strengths (how many did you get, Estefania? Three? haha ), but her former Columbia baseball player husband more than made up for it. Little League coach Chad also had a solid performance, but I think we can all agree that he needs to stick his butt out a little more, like I do.

[Eat like you're in your 20s.]

Various meals I have eaten this week:

Dinner: Hot dog.

Lunch: Pizza + donut.

Dinner: Chinese takeout.

Breakfast: Three (okay four) handfuls of Reeses Pieces.

Lunch: Goldfish.

Dinner: Hot dog, ice cream, and fries from Shake Shack.

Lunch: Small salad + a large side of Chex Mix.

Dinner: Nachos + vanilla wafers + late night Krispy Kreme donut. (Happy National Donut Day yesterday!)

Breakfast: Krispy Kreme donut again.

At least this morning I sent Chad off to work with a donut AND two vitamins. And, as evidenced by the photo, I brought Shake Shack to his office when he had to work late this week. No one can say I don't take care of my man...

[obx love.]

duck beach, north carolina

bikinis. junk food. best friend. boyfriend.

camera crews. pretty people. parties. karaoke.

ocean. crab attack. sand everywhere. sunburn.

hammock. midnight beach kisses. this boy i love.

[And then I dropped my iPhone in chocolate frosting.]

This week I went to a cupcake decorating class with Steph. Though my life is complete now that I know how to make a rubber ducky cupcake, the apple was my favorite as it hit some pretty key items on my favorite things list: sweet, red & sparkly. They're all pretty fun to make though, so if you ask me extra extra nicely and tell me that I'm pretty, I'll make you a dozen of any of these fun cupcakes.

[A charmed life.]

:: Maybe one day last week I randomly tweeted about wanting chocolate macarons, and the next day two dozen showed up at my apartment.

:: Maybe I went to make a return at Bloomingdale's and a register error resulted in a free $250 gift card.

:: Maybe I love a boy.

:: Maybe he loves me back.

:: Maybe I'm convinced that I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

[Train track twirling is my favorite.]

Harpers Ferry, West Virginia

So maybe I'm the silliest girl in the world, but I really love twirling. And pictures of myself twirling. Have decided to embrace it, clearly. Also, say "train track twirling" 10 times fast.

[Put THIS ring on it!]

In the spirit of the royal wedding:

Future husbands of mine, you may as well keep this fun ring in mind for a "just because" present, because you know I'll just buy it for myself otherwise...

(After every Young Womens leader pounded it into our brains that we are all princesses, what do you expect?)

[22-23: A year, Milan style.]

Pictures from my birthday dinner at Mie N Yu.

How to be 22, by me.


You celebrate turning 22 with a killer party on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Have a lot of fun, but look back on the greasy-haired pictures and cringe - why didn't you wash your hair that day!? Say goodbye to your love from 17-22 forever (but escape to Vegas for a last-hurrah weekend a few months later with him anyway). You stop breathing, so you rebound. Rebound again. Rebound again, again. And then you're at least a little distracted, and can breathe again, a little. Meanwhile, significantly enhance your little resume by completing an amazing internship at the Guggenheim, which will give you a lot of art world street cred and some really great filing skills. Then it's the night before your last day of college, and the paper due at midnight is only 1/3 done, and then suddenly it's 3 a.m., and you're only 2/3 done, then somehow it's the next morning, and you turn the paper in, and you go to your last class, and then it's over, and you tell the strangers in the elevator, "That was my last class of college," in an elevator appropriate voice, but really you want to SCREAM it....

A few weeks later you march across a stage in a light-blue gown that makes you look tan, which you quite appreciate, and they hand you a paper that reads, "You did it! Our bad for the sleepless nights you spent cramped up in Butler Library and the incomprehensible TAs and the occasional vermin you found in your dorms and for admitting that one boy from whom you're still recovering and for preventing you from learning French by only having classes that took place at 9 a.m. on Friday mornings which you obviously refused to attend...our bad. But you did it. In fact, you did it rather well and only gained a little weight throughout the whole ordeal, and you can now waltz around the world knowing that you graduated from an Ivy League institution. You win. You did it." Or it may say something else, but you'll never know, as you never took Latin. That day you had woken up an unemployed undergraduate, but, after receiving a job offer in the mail, you go to bed a graduate of Columbia University and a future employee of the Smithsonian Institution.

Six weeks later you move to Washington, D.C., nearly inconsolable with woe and self-pity. You don't want to leave New York. You don't want to leave your friends. You don't want to leave the Strand or Fifth Avenue or the Met or Central Park or that one little hole-in-the-wall Korean restaurant on 32nd Street. But leave them all you do, because something inside you whispers "Go!" (and you know better than to ignore it). On the Fourth of July on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial, your life changes, but you won't realize it until months later.

The next several months are filled with firsts: First apartment. (love) First time living with Mormon girls. (weird) First real paycheck. (sweet) First bills. (@#$*) First time all your friends are Mormon. (boring) First antique purchase. (baller) First time living in the suburbs. (gross) First grown-up relationship. (scary) You learn and change and grow, and you develop a healthy love/hate for your new life, with less hate and more love than you'd anticipated or wanted.

After New Year's you take a few difficult steps as you try to become a little more of whoever you're going to be. These include applying to and getting accepted into two graduate programs in the History of Decorative Arts, which will lead you further into the uncertain arts world but closer to your passions and inspirations. You love a boy, but you leave a boy, and then you buy your first antique book and your first Kate Spade purse. You also take to twirling. And meltdowns. A lot of meltdowns. Uncertainty and worry, but also some peace.

By the time you turn 23, you're a different person than the 22 year old you, and lightyears away from from the 21 year old you (thank GOODNESS). You still don't wash your hair every day. You still forget to ask people about their day, and you still eat like a linebacker. You still judge people based on where they went to school, you still wear too much eye makeup, and you still fall asleep in movies. You still don't like talking to strangers or talking at all. But you're also kinder. You read your scriptures everyday. You love more and better, and you're more thoughtful. You're gentler, more communicative, and more inclusive. And you value family more, especially Mom.


You celebrate 23 with parties, friends, and loves, and you're happy.


The end.




I know this birthday post is almost a month late. Whatever. My blog.