hysterical and amazing and terrifying

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always craved the feeling of being safe and secure above anything else. Wrapped up tightly and sheltered from the world. I find this in quality hugs, sleeping bags or in my bed with the covers pulled over my head*

*An automatic response to my alarm clock.

I’m not sure what this says about my upbringing (can one be over swaddled?) but even as an adult, it’s heaven for me to be somewhere cozy and quiet at the end of a long day or if I’m upset. It’s actually the reason I look forward to winter every year – so that I have a multitude of opportunities to snuggle and be snuggled. I think I was a stuffed animal in a prior life.

I assume this is normal … or at least not entirely abnormal, but the amount of sheer joy I find at having alone time in a quiet place is probably a little weird. I guess it’s part of being a introvert. The more I socialize, the more solo time I need to re-energize.

Right now I’m sitting atop a magnificent bed in a hotel room in Washington, D.C. I’m just now sitting upright after spending 20 minutes laying on my back and studying the ceiling, while texting, instagraming and talking to my mom. There’s crazy intricate crown molding up there, and I couldn’t tear myself away. If there’s anything I like to stare at (besides Ryan Gosling) it’s antique molding. True story.


This room can only be described as a perfect. I feel like a little girl in a princess suite, where everything is lacy and white, wonderful and serene. They – the magical staff – left me slippers, chocolates, cookies and classical music while I was out this evening. You complete me, dear hotel. I told my husband tonight that I want to stay here for a week and never.leave.the.room.


This wasn’t supposed to be a post about swaddling withdrawals or hotels though. I actually sat down – well – sat up to write after pondering how absurd it is that I am where I am at the moment.

I’m by myself in the nation’s Capitol. I just had an inspiring dinner conversation with a colleague I hardly knew before today. Tomorrow I’ll attend an event at the Chamber of Commerce addressing potential connections between education and careers for young adults.

It’s one of those moments where I have to pause and remember that I’m no longer 15 and am, in fact, playing the role of an adult in this week’s episode of life. I’m very aware that I’ve been alive and mostly conscious for the greater part of everyday of my life, but where did the the time go? How does this happen? One day I’m looking for a prom dress and pleading for a later curfew, and then somehow I’m transported through time to be on the cusp of my 30th birthday traveling the country alone, for work. Work where I wear pantsuits, no less. That’s a punchline waiting to happen.

It’s hysterical and amazing and terrifying. But mostly amazing.

I feel so lucky to have this life, full of incredible people, places and problems. It’s not just the big trips and milestones that make life so fulfilling, but the everyday things, too. There’s a well known analogy about this – something with a vase and rocks and sand – am I right? Big rocks can’t completely fill up a vase without the sand to slide into empty spaces and make it truly full.

At any rate, I’m making a more concerted effort to write about what I think and feel everyday, even when mundane, and this is what spewed out tonight, from my fingertips to your eyeballs.