For Valentine's Day, David brought home roses for me. After I was done with work, we packed up a picnic and ate dinner while overlooking Los Angeles from Griffith Park. We didn't bring cameras or our phones, and we just enjoyed the moment together, laughing, eating, and talking about what we wanted for ourselves and each other in the next year ( Read more... )

1) Where did you begin 2013 ( Read more... )

I'm fairly certain that I spent the day wearing someone else's underwear ( Read more... )

David, on the phone with his sister in England: You know, when it's right, it's easy as pie. Being married to Elizabeth is truly the easiest thing ever.

Me: [Start making crude gestures with own boobs, and pulling faces]

David: [Falls over laughing, silently]

MARRIAGE!

David and I were discussing something the other day, and the topic of how we met came up. Specifically, how we tell the story of how we met. As I've shared many times, David and I met at a mutual friend's New Year's Eve party. One aspect of this I love to share is that we were the Token Straight People (so of COURSE we should be matched up!). The ( Read more... )

Back in Chicago, there was one night in the midst of a really bad anxiety spell, a really bad depressive spell, and I couldn't sleep. I was so anxious that my mind would not stop; it just kept whirring and whirring and whirring, and it was three in the morning, and I hadn't slept, and I was anxious because I couldn't sleep. But it wasn't just that ( Read more... )

1) Where did you begin 2012 ( Read more... )

Last night, I was speaking with my mother at the dining room table in the home where I grew up, and she said, 2012 has been a truly terrible year for many people. I'm glad it's almost over ( Read more... )

My aunt died.

I made that entry private for a while, because not everybody in my family knew yet. But now they do, so I wanted to share it again.

My aunt was an incredible woman, and I learned so much from her. I miss her so much.

When I was little, my Aunty Chris often made Christmas. She rarely remembered our individual birthdays, but she surely made up for it every year in December. Our tree would drastically change from being newly decorated, but with nothing underneath, to overflowing with presents. A refrigerator-sized box would arrive, and we'd shout, "Aunty Christmas ( Read more... )