happy, happy friday.

pure inspiration.

"....after so many decades, 88 years ago on this very day the 19th amendment guaranteeing women the right to vote would forever be enshrined in our constitution.

my mother was born before women could vote. but in this election my daughter got to vote for her mother for president. this is the story of america. of women and men who defy the odds and never give up.

how do we give this country back to them?

by following the example of a brave new yorker, a woman who risked her life to shepherd slaves along the underground railroad.

on that path to freedom, harriet tubman had one piece of advice:

if you hear the dogs, keep going.
if you see the torches in the woods, keep going.
if they're shouting after you, keep going.
don't ever stop. keep going.
if you want a taste of freedom, keep going."

– hillary clinton, democratic national convention, august 26, 2008

back to reality.

after spending the weekend with my girlfriends, their husbands, their babies and their pregnant bellies (in case anyone is keeping track, i received TWO pregnancy announcements during my three days in fargo), i returned home only to learn that my 600-mile weekend road trip had done catastrophic damage to my poor car. it is dead and there is no bringing it back.

so, instead of being lazy and catching up on some much-needed sleep (who knew babies cried throughout the night?), this week is lending itself to some frantic car shopping and lots of mad math, trying to figure out what i can actually afford.

college and the land of no responsibilities has never seemed further away.

(on the upside, i will very soon have a new, reliable car to get me from mpls [aka "reality"] to college town so i'm able to continue to be a big part of all of these growing families– and for that, i'm very grateful!)

the little weekend road trip.

this weekend, this not-so-single city girl is making the trek up to fargo, north dakota for the first time in two years. two years and two babies later, i cannot wait to see my college friends and their children.

"their children."

even though the first one was born eight months ago, it's still a phrase i can't believe i'm uttering, as having children of my own still seems so foreign to me. three hours west on interstate 94 and i'll be entering a new planet.

the last time i was in my college town, the memories of studying for a final, having all-night sex and the city marathons, drinking cheap champagne and giggling over new boyfriends were all still fresh. four years after graduation, the memories are becoming hazier... but they mean just as much.

this weekend, bottles of champagne will surely be replaced by bottles of milk, and instead of giggling over a new boyfriend, i will be oogling a new baby– and i couldn't be happier about it.

a very happy birthday, indeed.

what project runway wednesdays look like at 20 groveland....

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straidar

last night, i floated through my door after my fourth date with softball spark (aka christopher). we had dinner at an adorable and delicious little nepalese restaurant settled into a corner on grand avenue. afterwards, we trekked back to his st. paul apartment (yes, i'm dating one from "the other side") and, like something out of a cheesy romantic comedy, we spent the rest of the evening listening to cat power, the rain falling outside as beautiful background noise.

as much as i might try to fight it, the more time christopher and i spend together, the more i realize just how much time i want to spend with him.

however; i digress. back to the 10:30pm waltz into my apartment. i greeted my cat and called the only friend i knew would be up to relay the details of my date to him. after we hung up, i looked at my phone and saw it: a text from an ex.

since we live across the street from each other, this ex and i have been in sporadic communication, the last of which was a couple of weeks ago, when, after a few engaging late-night conversations on my stoop, he decided it was too much for him. he couldn't handle the "floodgate of communication."

i laughed his words off and continued about my life.

then, last night, a text out of the blue. after my hot date. coincidence? i don't think so.

this is just one more example that "straight man radar" (straidar?) really does exist, subconscious as it may be. in my experience, any time i start to think that a new man could possibly mean something to me, an old one reaches out. perhaps for friendship, perhaps for something more, always seemingly fighting to be back at the forefront of my mind.

not that this ex could ever do or say anything that would make me change my mind about christopher and run back into his arms, and not that he wants me back in his arms at all ; i just find it all so incredibly amusing.

ah, the ego of the straight man.

this is what MY 26 looks like.

dancing the night away at "too much love"

this week, i turn 26. TWENTY-SIX.

why is it that 26 seems so much older than 25? and shouldn't a 26-year-old know what she wants to do for a career, shouldn't she be starting to think about settling down, perhaps buying a house and having some babies?

at least that's what i hear my 18-year-old self (and my mother) screaming at my newly minted 26-year-old self.

but this is MY 26.

i still really have no idea what i want to do in terms of a career (though i feel i've started down the right path), but i'm having a lot of fun dreaming about the possibilities. and, at this point in my life, i don't really care to settle down and have babies– i've got the girls, the gays and my cat.

yes, all the makings of a true spinster. (but a fashionable one, at the very least.)

maybe by 30 this spinster will have a different mindset. but for now, i'm going to leap into 26.... and enjoy every moment of it.

things i learned over the weekend.

sometimes you just gotta break the rules, sneak out of work early on friday, and spend the afternoon experiencing the zoo through your favorite little toddler's eyes... it doesn't get much better.

"i want to be a big boy and ride the bumper cars!"

i'm much too old to be playing drinking games with 21-year-olds drinking cheap tequila, but i'm just the right age to sit on a rooftop drinking wine into the night with my favorite 40-year-old. (and i'll NEVER be too old for waterslides.)

suburbanites really enjoy naming their neighborhoods– i.e., the "south passages," "meadowbrook," and "wagon wheels" neighborhoods i passed all within a quarter mile of each other during my trip to south suburbia on sunday morning.

the nook really does serve a killer juicy lucy like everyone says– and it's in st. paul! (looks like i'm expanding my horizons)

first kisses are the best kisses.....