Another One Bites The Dust

Posted on May 18, 2012 by Lauren

Tuesday night we had an impromptu Queen dance party. I think you should too.

Posted in Uncategorized | 6 Comments

American Rage

Posted on May 17, 2012 by Lauren

I am not a flag-waving, gun-toting American.

I think the fact that we have the right to criticize (again and again) our government, to question our motives and to demand better is an excellent thing.

I understand why the world doesn’t like us very much. I understand we have a reputation that isn’t that great, and I understand we don’t do very much to fix this reputation. I get it. It’s embarrassing, and I can be honest about it.

But I am an American. The more I’m traveling and seeing the world, experiencing cultures that aren’t my own, the more I see that being an American means more than just being a loud mouth Jersey Shore dickhead. There is a culture here, a way of talking, a way of understanding the world, a way of identifying ourselves. Being American means something, even if Americans try and ignore it or deny it or push it aside as “just one big melting pot”. Which is true but untrue all at the same time.

And here is where my anger surfaces. I understand the global criticism. We think we are the good guys, but we don’t really act like the good guys and we are most of the time out to only benefit ourselves… on a global level, not on an individual level (unless you’re a high ranking politician… even Obama). But you and I, we are going to work and coming home and living our lives. We are fortunate because we have more than some other people have. We also have less, but mostly we just have more. I believe that the majority of people are passively self centered; they don’t want to hurt other people necessarily, they just care about themselves the most. I don’t like this very much, but I see that it exists.

What is super frustrating to me is the nonchalance that people from other countries have about badmouthing “Americans” or “America” to my face. Aside from being rude, it really pisses me off. I would never start talking shit about where you come from to you. I may have ideas, political/cultural ideas, that I have the ability to express in broad terms, but I am not going to burden you, oh citizen of the world, with them. So why is it so fucking acceptable to tell me how “American” such and such negative stereotype is, or how America is ruining the world or how we are all just a bunch of arrogant, immature, environment-hating capitalists?

I mean, I know why. That was rhetorical. But I think it’s totally bullshit. On a personal level I feel like I’m doing the best I can. I hate that I don’t feel like I have any power in politics, but I try to show that Americans aren’t bad people by being polite and gracious abroad (and yes, self deprecating when it’s called for). But I’m exhausted by the weight of all the assumptions and the overwhelming acceptance that it’s cool to hate on the United States. I’m super over it. I don’t want to feel embarrassed of where I come from and parts of who I am. When are people (both here and everywhere) going to be able to tell the difference between a country and its people? Please let it be in my lifetime.

Posted in I Have a Vagina and an Opinion | 27 Comments

Book List: The Review Part 2

Posted on May 16, 2012 by Lauren

Ah here we are again. Book discussion time!! I’m making my way through the book list quite beautifully and I think I’ll only have one more update before we make a totally NEW list! So, start thinking (and continue reading) about which books you’d want to make everybody (me) read. At the end of all of the reviews I’m going to post my 3 favorites so hopefully I’ll help you narrow some new reads down if you are still searching for something awesome. Now then… here we go! If you missed part 1, you can check it out here.

The Fifth book in my journey was Before You Suffocate Your Own Fool Self by Danielle Evans. This is a book of short stories from a writer who is alive, and old enough to be my friend but not old enough to be my mother. I had read one of her stories in one of the Best American Short Stories collections… It may have been 2010 or 2009, but I can’t remember now. What I do remember is that it was the only story I thought of, even to this day, from any of the Best American collections. She is an amazing writer and her stories are so real they could be happening to your neighbor, but so captivating they keep you turning the page.

My favorite story of the collection is called Snakes. But then as I was flipping through just now to find the name of it, I started remember all of the other stories and they all became my favorites too. So I guess my second favorite is Wherever You Go, There You Are and my third favorite is The King of a Vast Empire.

I have nothing bad to say about this book. Even if you don’t like short stories, you should run out and buy it and read it (maybe even savor it). You’ll be thinking about the characters and these stories for months years.

I picked up The Witch of Portobello by Paulo Coelho as the sixth read because I was ready for a little magic and a solid novel.

It was not what I expected.

It’s kind of written in an experimental way, it’s in chronological order but the entire book is made up of many different peoples’ accounts of the witch and how she interacted with them, or what they heard or felt about her. I found it initially slow and my mind occasionally wandered. But! It’s an incredibly calming read, incredibly thoughtful, and every time I picked it up I felt like I was going on a spiritual journey.

If  you’re in the mood for some self-reflection, some pondering about the nature of the world and how we’re all inter-connected (with some magic and intrigue thrown in) you should check this out. You know what it kind of reminds me of? It’s a Benjamin Button story (minus the weird aging) or a Forrest Gump type of thing (without the Jen-ney), a character driven story to the max.

Seventh was Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and Oh My God! This is the book I missed my train stop while reading. For reals. I love it so much because it is so fun and even though some of the romance stuff is over the top, the story is actually really smart. I love the historical fiction, I love the quirky characters, I love that the main character, Claire, is really smart and complicated and she hardly ever makes me roll my eyes. I LOVE THIS BOOK.

You guys, I love it so much that I had to start reading the eighth book early. I couldn’t read this book before work after my first week diving into it. It was too intense!! I would be at work, and for the first entire half of the day my brain would be in the Scottish highlands falling in love with a burly red-headed man and trying to escape the perils of the red coats. I am not even kidding. I have asked Kamel to adopt a Scottish accent several times. His response: “You really need to stop reading that book.” Yeah right… This is the most full on FUN I’ve had with a book in a really long time. I would say 70% of the books I read are page-turners, and about 20% of those are also incredibly smart and rave-worthy, but only about 5% of those are this fun.

But! I can’t decide if I want to head into the whole series of them. I’m having mixed feelings about getting book #2 and spending whole afternoons and evenings completely shackled to my book. It really really was preoccupying. I would get excited thinking about getting back to it! And then when I finished I mourned for two days that the story had ended and I couldn’t just go on living in this world FOREVER. Ok… I think you get the idea. So i’m not sure what to do. I know that the series kind of peters out when it comes to quality and I don’t want the story to become frustrating or unenjoyable. Please, give me some guidance on this one.

Like I mentioned above, number eight began as I was reading Outlander in order to keep myself functional. And what better book for sanity than… Watership Down by Richard Adams. A book about bunnies. All bunnies all the time.

The lovely Laura recommended this one. I remember because I thought, “Really? Bunnies?? Well… Laura said it was good… so I’m sure it’s amazing.” But I’m sort of still feeling like… really? Bunnies?

I generally have a hard time with stories about animals. I like animals, I do. I cried many times during Old Yeller. And I think dogs are awesome, and that cats are out to take over the world. And baby bunnies are kind of the bestest. But, I just have a really hard time caring about this story.

It’s a really fast read, there are a lot of things that happen in short bursts so it kept me relatively entertained with the pace, but every once in a while I would pop my head up and wonder… why am I giving a shit about the bunnies?

Laura, and anyone else who has read this, can you explain this to me? Even as I type this I feel like I’m probably a bad person for not caring MORE about this story. Am I just an ass hole? (The answer is: Yes, you bunny hating jerk.)

Alright! Who has read these books? What did you think? Should I read the next Outlander or will it just make me crazy and/or mad? Who is going to run out and buy Danielle Evans’ book of short stories? And who cares about bunnies? I’d like a show of hands please.

Posted in I'm A Writer | 24 Comments

Sometimes Marriage Sucks

Posted on May 15, 2012 by Lauren

A lot of the content on this blog comes straight from the effects of a good marriage. Adventure-ing, being able to be a total goob in front of someone else, having fights and making up, silly conversations, cuddling, adorable photos, having a buddy, blah, blah, blah and some more cutesy pootsey blah.

But even good thing suck sometimes. And last week, for the whole week, being married sucked. And here is why:

You can’t really escape each other.

As close as I am with my friends (and we are stupid amounts of close, weird amounts of close, awesome amounts of close) I am not, generally, directly touched by their moods. If they’re in a shitty mood then I don’t have to talk to them that day, I can give them space. If they decide to be grumpy and keep the world out and watch Greys Anatomy and sob in an entire box of kleenex that doesn’t keep me from basking in my own sunshine in my own little happy land.

But when Kamel is hating the world, or hasn’t gotten enough sleep, or has just decided to be an ass hole for a day… I can’t escape it. It doesn’t even have to do with being in any sort of physical space with him, I could go for a walk or have dinner with friends, and yet… he’s still there. I am tied to him in a way that is unique, and frustrating. How does one person have so much power over how I feel and what I do and how my day runs its course? It’s so unfair! When we talk about “sharing our life” it doesn’t mean only the good parts, it also doesn’t mean all of the good parts AND all of the mutually shitty parts. Sometimes we share the parts where the other person is being a dick, and I have to be the one who puts up with it and grits my teeth because… sometimes we’re all ass holes, and sometimes we all go through things that make us ass holes, even me.

But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. It sucks. And I hate it and sometimes I resent him for it. I say things like, “You are RUINING MY DAY!!” or, “Why are you being such a dick? You’re making me hate you right now.” And I don’t want to hate him. I want the parts where he makes me laugh so hard I pee my pants a little. Or the parts where we are just quiet together and everything is as it should be while we move together in the same space as separate people. I don’t want the parts where I wake up like the happiest person on the planet and am forced to deal with a grumpy, immature jerkface. The guy who throws a little tantrum and stamps his foot in Target. The guy who melts down over making a decision – where both choices either don’t matter or are both good things. And I’m left to move us along, to try and make the best of it, to sooth even though there is nothing to soothe because nothing I say fixes. Because this is his world and I’m just living in it.

Last week was like that because he was freaked out about the balloon. He was uncomfortable and anxious and mad at me for getting him into this situation where he was now uncomfortable and anxious. But it wasn’t clear and I didn’t understand. All of it came off as just… obnoxious and negative.

But then he didn’t die in the balloon, and he actually kind of thought it was a little bit amazing. And he stopped being so mad and uncomfortable and started loving me again and all was well. But I had a shitty week when I could have been having a totally normal week because I’m married and I have this other person tethered to me. And sometimes I guess that’s how it works, even if I think it’s stupid and unfair.

Posted in Marriage | 15 Comments

Adventure-ing: Balloons

Posted on May 14, 2012 by Lauren

When I was 10 my parents and I went to New Mexico for my Dad’s 40th birthday. We went to Santa Fe, Albuquerque, and Taos. We saw where the Anasazi used to live, the colorful dessert, ate sopapillas, and one morning woke up to a hundred different sized and colored hot air balloons floating along the morning sky. We had happened to be there during the Albuquerque International Hot Air Balloon Festival. And I had never ever seen anything like it. It was surreal and spectacular.

And again, it was something that I never thought I would participate in. It just didn’t occur to me that I could or would ever ride in a hot air balloon. How would that fit into normal life? Who does such things. But as I continue to discover, it’s amazing how easy it is to do the things you think are hard, the things that other people do but not you.

Thank god for Google. Idle curiosity can so easily turn into concrete plans with a few key strokes. A trip up in balloons over Napa with our friends Margaret and Jeff was scheduled for their visit from Minnesota. Companies were researched, prices budgeted. This adventure was not inexpensive, though I’m sure there are cheaper areas – the Napa area, I have a feeling, can charge whatever they want and people will still line up for a ride. But Napa Valley Balloons begins the morning at Domain Chandon, and ends at Domain Chandon with a champagne brunch. It had the best website, and included a lot for the price. The money was well spent.

You know from Kamel’s post that we were up at 3:30 am and in the car by 4:00. You know how terrified he was and yes – he made my life rather uncomfortable for the week leading up to this adventure with this grumpyness and anxiety. But I really appreciate that he did something that made him so uncomfortable just because I asked, just because I wanted him to be there with me.

Because before I tell you anything else, you have to know – this was bar far the most epic activity I have ever done, the most gorgeous morning, the best early wake up I have ever had, and I am now completely addicted.

I want to preach to the entire world, to strangers on the street, to everyone in my life that you have to do this. You have to. It’s both serene and thrilling, it’s physics and magic and wonder all rolled into one. It’s just… glorious.

The sheer volume of the balloons is overwhelming when you first come upon them. For whatever reason their size doesn’t come across in most photos I’ve seen or even with the ones I’ve watched float slowly across the sky. When you’re standing next to one while it’s filling with air, though, it’s absolutely immense.

I was also surprised that I had actual fear as the balloon quickly rose into the morning air, hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of feet up, almost 2,000 feet into the sky. It moved fast and I did have a few minute’s of panic thinking: Holy shit I’m in a goddamn basket floating away because of a shit ton of hot air… what am I doing?! am I crazy?!

This was the part in the program where Kamel didn’t look anywhere but his shoes. I didn’t blame him. But I found that if I didn’t look down and instead just looked out it wasn’t as freaky and I could still enjoy the amazingly beautiful valley. Plus! To my happiness, the basket was comfortably warm because of the massive flame periodically heating the air above my head.

And even though I had a moment of “Whhaaattt am I doing?” when we initially lifted off the ground, I never felt like I was in any danger. It was one of the most joyful experiences of my life. And! Just to show you how freaking awesome it really really was – all of the photos that don’t include me in them, I took. Me! Even with my total lack of photography talent, it really was that amazing.

This space has been a place for me to chronicle feelings and relationships and stories (the ridiculous and the sad and the funny), it’s been my way of providing a time stamp to major life events, and it’s been a place of advice and discussion and feedback (which I’m incredibly grateful for). But now begins a new chapter, this space will also be a celebration of adventures, of personal triumphs, of doing things we never thought we could, and to cheering each other on. If you have an adventure (big or small) you’d like to write about, please email me at betterinrealife at gmail dot com.
Posted in Adventures | 18 Comments

Saturday Edition: Fear Of Heights Adventure-ing

Posted on May 12, 2012 by Kamel
Remember how Sarah did the scary thing of chopping off her hair? And I did the scary thing of trying out rock climbing? … and surfing. On this Saturday Edition Kamel talks about his own fearful adventure-ing. This time involving a lot of hot air.

I’m afraid of heights.

It’s a very specific type of heights though, because I love flying on planes and love looking out the windows of really tall buildings. But, I’m terrified of being in open air, on tall structures that seem to be frail or dangerous. Like the observatory thingy in barcelona. While I was happy to have taken pictures from up there, I was actually terrified and moving very slowly the entire time. (Lauren Edit: I thought at one point he would start to crawl along the floor. But he didn’t.) Or in the London Eye, again happy to have taken pictures, but terrified most of the time.

So a few months ago, Lauren wanted to challenger herself and do something, yet again, that she never thought she would. Her master plan: Hot Air Balloons. It appears I agreed to this, but I honestly didn’t actually think we would. A few months later, she asked me to call Napa Velley Balloons to get more details. I talked to the lady, and let her know I’m terrified and would probably bail at the last minute. She assured me they are safe (But how safe can riding in a basket, loaded with giant propane tanks, a giant open flame, and no real control over anything except maybe height can be?). She also said that while the tickets are non refundable 48hrs prior to boarding, IF I did feel like I couldn’t hop on day of, she would not charge me. So that made me feel safe that I had an out.

I sat with Lauren while she booked tickets and then I tried not to think about it for a while. Until… one day Lauren and I decided to go lay down to take a nap, one week prior to the balloon ride. And I chose this moment to confess to her that I might not be able to get on the balloon because I was terrified and didn’t really want to do it in the first place. (Lauren Edit: Months later… MONTHS since we talked, planned, and bought the tickets.) I was scared of not being in control and of the height (2,000 feet in a basket). (Lauren Edit: But a plane is totally in his control, right?) This freaked Lauren out because she thought I was all ready to go, all in as you say. (Lauren Edit: No shit.) My mistake for not being more vocal about from the get go, but I thought I was since every step of the way I mentioned how I had zero desire to do this, and didn’t want to. (Lauren Edit: But there is a big difference between saying “I dunno, I don’t really want to, but ok.” To saying, “I can’t do this. I am too afraid and you should go without me.”)

We had to be at the Launch site in the Domain Chandon winery at 5:30am, this meant our friends Margaret and Jeff and both Lauren and I woke up at 3:30am and were in the car by 4am. We arrived at Domain Chandon and after a light snack, loaded ourselves into vans that would take us to the launch area. I was terrified.

I kept trying not to think about it, but I wanted to bail. I did not want to go up.

But! The time came and we all hopped into the basket. Up and over. I hopped in and immediately just wanted to hop out and wish the group a safe flight. But Lauren was super happy and bouncy so I decided not to be the party pooper. I stayed and thought it might not be so bad.

We took off. Up, up, up. Higher and higher. I was regretting this decision more than anything in my life. I was scared shitless and could not even look out. I was shaking and spent a good chunk of time looking down to my feet only. I kept counting up in my head and telling myself it would all be over soon. I wanted to go back down right away. We were scary high.

Lauren, meanwhile, was having the time of her life (you’ll here her story on Monday I’m sure) and so was everyone else in the balloon. I tried to peak out, but every time I did, I felt like I was going to die. So I went back to looking down and waiting for the time to go by. It was just 45minutes to an hour, so that’s not so bad.

After about 15ish minutes, I started getting antsy. So I decided to distract myself with something. And what better way to hide yourself from the real world around you than to bury your face in a camera’s view finder and take pictures. (Lauren Edit: My plan for Kamel from the get go, knowing he did have fears about height, was to surround him with as many cameras as possible. We had three on board, 4 if you can’t my phone too.) Perhaps even upload a couple to Instagram too, no? (I did, and one got 32 likes! More than any other instagram I’ve ever taken! Check it out here.)

Lauren kept trying to make me see it wasn’t so bad and that it was fun. But it was scary and I was done. But seeing her happy made me happy. So I loosened up a bit and started taking pictures with her. Showing her what I’ve shot and taking recommendations from her as to what looked cool (cos I was NOT really looking out). At this point we were only about half way through the trip.

A few minutes later, we descended down to a more reasonable altitude of just a few hundred feet. Not that this doesn’t feel as bad. The ground seemed closer and the balloon for some odd reason felt safe. Then we saw a lake, and the pilot said he would try to tap the water…. A splash and dash if you will. Once he did, he gained my full confidence that he totally had this shit. He could, on command, gently tap the basket’s bottom of this ginormous ballon and then take it back up a bit. Impressive. That experience, and the fact that he had been doing this for 30+ years made me finally feel a little safer. So I started enjoying the ride.

The ride went on for another 30 minutes, but we never climbed back up to that initial scary/insane altitude. Lauren was happier than a puppy hearing the sound of rattling car keys. And I managed to do two things:

  • Overcome the fear of getting on this death basket.
  • Take some pretty bad ass photos.

We then landed safely and calmly on the ground and proceeded to eat the breakfast of kings at Domain Chandon and drink champagne. The entire experience was epic, happy and absolutely a once in a life time event. Everything went better than expected.

Had I not gone, I would’ve missed out on this unique opportunity. I would’ve been on the ground, waiting and bored, unhappy, left out and never knowing what it would’ve been like. I’m really glad I got onboard. The entire experience was totally worth the months of angst and weeks of me being a cranky mess. Though I’m sure Lauren could’ve done without all of that, I’m happy she gave me the confidence I needed to hop on board. In the end we both have this epic memory to share for the rest of our lives. I wonder what other adventures are still to come? Even if sometimes… they scare the shit out of me.

Posted in Adventures, Saturday Edition | 7 Comments

Oh, Hello There

Posted on May 11, 2012 by Lauren

Today I’m up at 3 am to head off to Napa for a hot air balloon ride. Yes. This is what’ I’m doing RIGHT NOW (well, if you read this after 10 pm  I may also be napping…) There will be photos and oh there will be stories. But first the adventure has to happen. So until then, here is a video of an unknown sea creature found very very very deep in the ocean. You know what strikes me as fascinating and a little frightening? Two things: The beehive pattern … and how it seems to have a natural curiosity… which immediately made me thing: Aliens.

You decide.

I’m up in a balloon (or napping).

Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Comments

The Good Stuff

Posted on May 10, 2012 by Lauren

The lovely sunshine-y and warm weather we’ve had for the last few weeks and that it’s continuing in the 10 day forecast as well.

Having lovely friends in from out of town (Margaret! and Jeff!) and staying up on a school not just to share stories (a lot of them about our crazy neighbor… power in numbers, folks).

Clean sheets and freshly scrubbed bathrooms.

Perfectly roasted and seasoned broccoli.

Fresh guacamole.

Purple pants.

Listening to old Death Cab at work and being transported back to college, the angst, the smell of grass and dirt and sun on asphalt, the quad, my bedroom, and neighborhoods with cracked sidewalks because of big trees.

Having memories that aren’t so nice, and knowing that they are memories only.

Pulling the whites from the dryer and finding out that all the socks match. No stragglers found here.

Obama finally admitting that he thinks gay marriage should be legal, duh. (Even if he had to talk for 20 minutes’ and ho hum around the subject… we all knew he thought it the whole time.)

The continued hum of a busy life.

Weekends of sleeping and reading and long walks. Even if they don’t happen very often, when they do I suck up all the goodness and store it for later.

What are your good things? Tell me your happies.

Posted in Uncategorized | 25 Comments

An Update On Crazy

Posted on May 9, 2012 by Lauren

Remember how my neighbor did the whole thing with the bread? And then there have been a bunch of weirdo little things (staring us down, giving weird responses when we pass him and do the usual polite greeting, beginning to undress in our parking lot then hiding behind a tree in the dark and the rain, etc), and then he flicked a cigarette at me as I passed him on my way to the train.

We know he is actually crazy. Not just a dick, but a someone who is struggling mentally. We see his odd behavior, we see him talking to himself, not having any understanding of how his actions impact other people around him, we see that he is incapable of just being a normal dude. Because we live above him and are part of his daily life we see when things are going ok for him and when they aren’t. This is all speculation but we call it when he’s “on his meds” and when “he’s off his meds”. This is not a huge leap to make.

On his meds = quiet, normal, apartment living neighbor.

Off his meds = all of the blinds suddenly shut tight, loud loud loud music playing at weird times (like Monday night at 12:30 am, keeping us all awake too long and making us very tired on tuesday), walking around outside with a constrained look on his face, focusing on getting to his destination so hard that it’s obvious there are unseen things around him he is trying to avoid.

When I got home from work yesterday all of his blinds were shut tight and the late night music marathon that vibrated through our floor the night before all meant he was building up to something. Then I woke up at 2:00 am with a jolt.

A strong smell of electrical fire had filled our bedroom. I woke Kamel up. He walked through the apartment checking our bundles of wires, nothing. No sign of any issue. The smell continued and I continued to say, “No, something’s not right. This isn’t a normal fire, this is like burning plastic. No, something’s not right.” I was not going to go back to sleep until that smell was figured out. Finally I went to check if they smell was coming directly from our window or from somewhere else and then I saw it – a pile of burning stuff right under our bedroom window in the parking lot, smoking up a storm, most of the remains already charred through.

I didn’t see him do it, but I don’t have to. We’re calling the landlords this morning to tell them what we saw. I realize I can’t anticipate or totally understand mental illness, but I just wish he could be a gentle crazy person, someone who is a little off and that’s it instead of constantly being a drain on our life. I couldn’t sleep until maybe 3:00 and now I’m ridiculously tired yet again today. And I feel guilty for tattling on him. But I also want to have our normal little quiet life back. The kind where I’m not woken up in the middle of the night by terrible smoke either from chain smoking cigarettes or a pile of burning debris. Or slamming doors or blasting music or rummaging to peel off his screens, or angry neighbors leaning on his buzzer. That’s all.

Posted in Stories | 13 Comments

Insta-Grammy

Posted on May 8, 2012 by Lauren

I love sharing photos. I love sharing them on twitter, facebook, and here. Everything I share here is a little different from from the stuff I share on facebook, and that’s different from the stuff I share on twitter.

Kamel was really excited about the colorful produce.

When I write, I see camera angles in my mind, the items I choose to highlight with words come from the focus of the camera in my head. I love images.

Date Night

Running an errand

Because sometimes it’s 11:00 pm and we’re driving home from the city and we just have to stop.

And this is why I just… I kind of love Instagram. And not in the fad way, and not in the hipster way.

Kamel drives into the city to pick me up one afternoon…

I love it like that friend who you always thought was cool and then you went to the movies and then to dinner and then took bowling, and then you realized you’d fallen in love miles ago, but didn’t know it until this very moment.

Nordstrom Cafe Downtown

Craps

Off the strip

But the thing is, I don’t have Instagram. My phone doesn’t support it currently. So Kamel and I, uh, share an account. Which Kamel begged me not to admit to publicly.

We looked up how to carve a pineapple, and then we did.

Because, ew. Like those people who have joint facebooks. We are not those people. We can’t share computers, we can’t share phones, we can’t share…

I adore blackberries

Kamel makes me lunch before 7:00 am

Except we do. And we are. We look at our feed together, we decide what photos to “like” (I want to like way more than Kamel does because I’m the social butterfly in this relationship), he angsts over losing a follower, I gain him 3 new ones by being chatty.

Photo editing

Waiting at the Orthodontist

Watching the clam bubbles in the river

He takes a photo, I take a photo. Most of these are his, some of them are mine.

Anthropologie was made for Instagram

I overcooked the asparagoose a little.

Morning light

Most of them are my ideas, some of them are his.

Perfect pancakes, plate from anthropologie.

Napoleon

A little salt and lime

If you would like to follow us on Instagram we’re under kamelperez. (Yes. Both of us.)

Posted in Family, Marriage, Stories | 10 Comments