My Girlfriends

The girls I’ve been close to since high school, the ones I spend my weeknights with in Charlotte, and the wondrous friends I’ve met in between. The roommates, the classmates, the relatives, the coworkers. Here’s to the road trips down 35, star gazing on Sullivan’s, wine tasting in Napa. For traveling the world with me, taking me in as family when I moved away from my own, for giving me the job. For cursing the bad guys, telling others how to correctly pronounce my name, and always cooking me dinner. Thank you for letting me stand in as your children’s Auntie Anna, be beside you on your wedding day, and with you when no one else is allowed in. I secretly enjoy the inappropriate text pictures I yell at you for, and know I am a better person for the fears you’ve made me confront. I miss the old school Wednesdays at Qdoba, and love the current Wednesday date nights. Thank you for taking me on family beach vacations, houseboat trips to the lake, and putting me up in your Chateau when I’m in Charleston. Cheers to curling up on the couch with a beer, wine tasting on our IKEA beds, and Bloody Marys… any day, any time, any place. Thank you for getting me through my work day though we’re 3 hours apart, for having me over for Thanksgiving when I can’t go home, and spoiling me when I’m sick. I am better because of you, I am stronger because of you, and I am most definitely less sensible at times because of you: )

“We are friends and I would miss you, do miss you, and think of you often.”
~Jeanette Winterson~

The Little Things This Fall

Grilling out. A new sundress. Skylines. Freshly washed sheets. A fair mechanic. The cool side of the pillow. An umbrella that matches my outfit. Trying out local Charlotte bars, one bloody mary at a time. Wednesday night date night. Sushi. A good run. How beautiful the trees are in our neck of the woods. Picture texts of my friend’s babies. A perfect avocado. Having time for an afternoon nap. White roses. Rooftops. Trader Joes. Ochocinco on a Sunday. Watching the clouds go by with someone. Paper Skyscraper. Haribo gummy bears. A simple ‘good morning’ text. Road trips. A new restaurant. Post Its. FNL. The occasional can of pop. Quiet weekends. Gel pens. Being on the water, specifically Lake Cumberland. Homemade pizza. Finally figuring out the correct lyrics. Browsing through greeting cards. Getting a package slip. Watching a best friend fall in love. Mixed CDs. Warm toes. A visit to see my parents. Fresh haircuts. Easy breezy fall days. Taking a stroll. Strike City OSU fans. Festivals. Early outs. Cornhole. Everyone’s ‘first day of school’ photos. Windows down. Sitting outside to eat. Switching from the typical white mocha to the chai or pumpkin spice. Him. Having a list of favorites that are pretty specific to my favorite season of the year.

Charleston, South Carolina

Sweet, sweet Charleston. The history, the art, the water. Just the smell of Charleston is poignant in a beautiful way (unless you’re headed over the Don Holt Bridge). My favorite streets: King, Rifle Range, Middle, Pitt, East Bay. My favorite restaurants: Sermet’s Corner, Monza, Village Street Bakery, La Pizzeria, Samos, Poe’s. My favorite spots: Pitt Street Pier, top of the Ravenel Bridge, Station 16, the Battery. My favorite events: Spoleto, fireworks at the Yorktown, Marion Square Farmer’s Market, Blessing of the Vine. I’m missing A LOT, I know. But everyone has their favorites, and those will forever be mine.

There’s a comfort that comes over me each time I drive into Charleston, a ‘peaceful, easy, feeling.’

Here’s my favorite picture that I took while strolling the streets with Ashley May one Saturday.

Giving Hugs

I’m pretty sure I love hugging others much more than they like to be hugged. I’ve learned to tone it down when hugging might-as-well-be strangers because they think it, well, strange. But nonetheless I’m so tempted to turn the famous ‘Anna Hug’ on them anyways. Even with the occasional, “please don’t squeeze so hard” I’m still not deterred. I can’t help it; it’s such a wonderful way to show others your emotions without having to say a word in between. I feel like a hug is something that can be given or stolen just the same… and there are few things you can say that about.

As Shel Silverstein so wonderfully wrote:

I will not play at tug o’war
I’d rather play at hug o’war
Where everyone hugs
Instead of tugs
Where everyone giggles
And rolls on the rug
Where everyone kisses
And everyone grins
And everyone cuddles
And everyone wins.

I will always be known for my hugs and that makes me, and hopefully you, very happy.

A Full House

I love peace and quiet, that can’t possibly be a surprise to anyone... BUT, I also love a full house. It has been quiet here for an entire month… and I’m happy to have the noise back. Everyone has returned to the SofLane household. Pip and Luke, Cloakster, Lil’ Ted, Meemaw and Papaw, and of course our sorority sisters (or so we like to think of them as so) come in and out our revolving door. Even when I’m sitting in my room trying to pick out tomorrow’s work outfit, just hearing the laugher and talking brings a wide smile to my face. Things are back to normal, and I’m feeling very fulfilled.

On a side note, the television show makes me happy too.

My Cousins

From the airport pickups, to the airport drop-offs, and the tapping of the Guinness keg in between- they’re there. This past weekend with my cousins in Minnesota was nothing short of the ‘norm.’ I think there is sacredness in the love of a cousin. It’s an understanding that we came from the same grandparents' undying love (thank you G&G), were raised almost identically, and cared for by the same fanatical family members. It’s a relationship that allows for anger at times, but is always forgiven. It’s teaming up and rebelling at similar ages in our lives and being able to discuss what our different punishable outcomes were. During the hardest moment imaginable when we lost one of our own… it’s in each other we found the most comfort. How blessed I am to be able to say that I’ve experienced the love of a cousin when many people are unable. I’m better for knowing them, more unified with them at my side, and reassured by the strong belief that one of them is patiently waiting to welcome me with open arms when my day comes. There is no greater comfort than that.

Staying In On a Friday Night

It's Friday night. I’m headed the opposite way of traffic, to a quiet apartment complex, and an empty gym. As always, it has been a long work week (that is not a complaint) and going out would only exhaust me more. Even the thought makes me wince. It seems to be a great night to do all the things I do during the week, but with the comforting notion that I can sleep past 6am tomorrow morning. It would most commonly involve a quick workout, dinner with the roomie, and falling asleep to our most recently bought chick flick. Make fun all you want… Hell, feel free to give me a call when you need a ride home at 2am, I'm there. Just don’t complain to me on Saturday morning when you wish you’d stayed in because you spent too much money and don’t feel well. I lack sympathy when it comes to that: ) I love my Fridays in… and I’m okay with this being outside what's customary.