r&r at its finest

Life is a funny thing and it seems the minute I found myself at my breaking point - setting rules and taking names - is just when my problem solved itself. Thursday, I scheduled this post, then hit the road for vacation. Just as it posted itself Friday morning, I hopped in the car for the last hour of my drive. I talked to Court and she asked me what I planned to do all day, since no one in our family was coming in until around 5 p.m.

And then it hit me.

I'd been so busy trying to figure out when I was going to finally learn to have some alone time - finally get my head on straight, ducks in row - that I didn't even realize I'd have all day Friday at the beach, by myself. I'd be homeless, since check-in wasn't until 3, wifiless, computerless, companionless. I could do exactly what I'd been saying I wanted to do for the last 3 months. Hang out with myself.

And then I laughed out loud at my own lack of foresight.

And then I got to chilling.

I sat by the ocean and read Love Does for hours. I ate lunch alone outside at a cafe - drinking Chai, people watching and enjoying the ocean breeze. I went on a walk and a run and then another walk, because why not? I read some more and ignored my phone and felt the kind of peaceful rechargedness that I felt when I broke my foot and was house-bound. But this time it was voluntarily, which has a much more peaceful and less anxious prisoner kind of vibe.

By the end of the day, I was, of course, itching like a fool for my family to arrive, because, let's be honest. I don't really love being alone that much. I'd much prefer company and chaos over solitude any day of the week. But sometimes, when you stumble upon a sleepy beach town and are alone without any distractions, you're reminded just how great it is to have a little solo time.

Looks like I don't need handcuffs, after all. Just unlimited time off and a sea breeze. Is that so much to ask!?

Happy Friday, guys!

{sweet spring break}

I got back from the beach Tuesday night and felt a kind of refreshed and recharged that I haven't felt in a long time. It was the perfect kind of slow vacation where your main concerns are getting iced coffee, getting in a workout, not waking up to an alarm, and what book you should read next because 7+ hours by the pool or ocean add up in the best way possible.

I talked to Courtney on the phone Saturday night and at the end of the conversation, she said, "Are you OK?" because my response rate was so slow and I think I had the kind of relaxed intonation that made her wonder if maybe I was on drugs.

For the first time ever, we decided to venture to Georgia's south beaches. I know, I just told you  that we're Emerald Coast do or diers, but we planned the trip last minute, so 30A was all booked up, and we couldn't let that stop us from getting our R&R. We're Rosemary-lovers but we're not crazy. We need the beach, people!

We went to St. Simon's and were charmed and dazzled by its quaintness. If you're familiar with the 30A area, you know that the panhandle is a manicured vacation mecca. Everything is perfect and tended to a T. St. Simon's is a departure from this - it natural and untouched. It's a quintessential Southern beach town, where everyone moves slowly and eats their food fried and has signs out front that read, "Add a bottle of wine to any meal for $10."

It's sweet and slow and exactly what we needed for a our spring break. We got up early and went to bed early and read books and laid by the pool and ocean and lost track of time. We ignored our phones and constantly found ourselves asking what day it was. We did family boot camp (led by Duke) and went on runs and walks and got iced coffee until we didn't even want it anymore. I went blow dryer, straightener and make up free - running in from the beach 20 minutes before we planned to leave for dinner just to hop in the shower. We did things we never make time to do - even on vacation - that only a Southern town can slow you down enough to make happen.

The ONLY problem with the trip is that not everyone could come. We were missing the rest of our family greatly. Before I left Tuesday, I made sure to send everyone in my family an email to get plans in motion for our next vacation. A trip like this is too good to let end without another one on the horizon. Sandestin for Labor Day, anyone?

See you at the beach!

making fun // paying it forward

 

I think there are a lot of cliches about changing perspective in life (hindsight 20/20, rosy retrospection, and the more I know, the less I understand...) that would say that our experiences change the way we see things.

 

And that's true, almost always.

 

Except for one thing.

 

For as long as I can remember (at least since I was 14), I have had a theory that there are three types of people in the world. There are fun makers, fun havers and fun takers.

 

The fun maker is making fun all the time. You know the type. Bringing snacks on a road trip and coming up with the best car games. Just really emitting fun and making it happen. The fun haver will partake in what the maker is doing, but isn't going to bring the party themselves. And then there are the fun takers - the type of person that can just suck the life out of the fun. They're not in the mood, so you're not allowed to be in the mood.

 

My brother, Duke, has been a fun maker since the day he was born, even coming into the world at 25 weeks because he was just so eager to get the party started. When he was young, we used to joke that he couldn't go in to fragile stores or quiet places because he was this little ball of energy and he couldn't really contain himself. The kid is just a fun maker through and through.

 

 

And this weekend, on Easter, he brought fun straight to the beach in a big way.

 

We went to a sunrise service, then found ourselves posted up on the beach for the long haul. Duke decided he wanted to take all of his cash and fill up Easter eggs, then plant them on the beach for random kids to find.

 

So, we took his money and stuffed our emptied eggs and acted real sneaky like as we dropped them around the beach. Then, we sat back and watched as the cutiest little kiddoes started finding them.

 

 

They were happy enough to find eggs - who wouldn't be?! - but then, when they opened them up and found money in them, they were ecstatic. We were watching from afar as they started jumping up and down - then running around the beach, digging, searching for more eggs. It was like the best kind of pandemonium broke out on the beach as these kids realized that the Easter bunny had actually come to the beach, and he'd left them cash. It's like he was working with the Tooth Fairy or something!

 

And, best of all, not even the parents knew where it came from.

 

If that's not a fun maker at his best, I don't know what is.

 

As we were leaving the beach, one of the kid's dads stopped us and asked if we'd planted the eggs. We awkwardly said yes and he replied, "Well, that was such a great surprise. We're going to take the eggs and refill them for other kids to find."

 

And this was the perfect reminder that even $1 acts of kindness don't go unnoticed. Sometimes the big things make the biggest difference, but other times, it's the little things that go the furthest. Sometimes we have to go on trips and donate money and think big. But sometimes, we just have to eat the jelly beans out of our plastic eggs and fill them up with a little bit of love for someone else to find. Who knows? Maybe the next person will add a little bit more love, and before we know it, the world will be filled with fun-making, love-giving egg hiders.

 

We can only hope, my friends!

 

Happy day to you!

handcuffed

A little over a year ago I went on a handful of dates with a boy. After a few dates, it was clear he wasn't my match, but these dates haven't gone unnoticed in my life. The grand finale culminated in one really rough evening that made me wonder just how it ever got this far. It has been called, by some of my friends, my worst date ever.

That feels a little dramatic to me, though.

Regardless, in the beginning there were fun dates, when I was excited about him, and his jokes were still funny and did he mean to touch my hand? And on one of those dates, we were at dinner and he asked me how my day was. I told him it was good! And he said, but are you always one of those people who says their days are good?

Probably.

That is, until this week, when my friend Hannah asked me how I'd been and I couldn't even change the words into good before they popped out: tired.

And then I felt embarrased for complaining and wanted to backtrack and tell her I was actually good, but unfortunately my brain was already six miles ahead thinking about why it popped out. This led to a whole slew of thoughts, which landed me at a frustratingly familiar place.

Yet again, I can't seem to slow down. I can't seem to figure out where to cut back. I can't commit to my February goal of spending time at home. And the real problem is, is that this leads to me feeling like I am not doing anything well. Like everything I'm doing, I'm performing just below grade. I'm sliding by and taking shortcuts and missing details.

Last summer and fall, I went through this excellent stretch where I spent a lot of time at home and felt organized and rested. But for some reason, 2013 has brought on an attitude of racing and running that has led to me to choas. Chaos like never seeing my roommate. Wednesday night, we had supper club, and I was just so grateful that we had something on the calendar together, so we could catch up.

When I visited Katie and Sara in Chicago, we stayed at Katie's house. That girl is busy, but she also knows how to say no and really values time to herself. And I noticed when I was there, that she had thought of every detail before my visit. She'd gotten food I liked, made plans just for me - had thought of tiny things that made me feel so important. And it meant so much to me - then also made me panic at the thought of all of my guests that have visited, with fear that I hadn't done the same for them. And it made me realize that in order to do things really, really well (like everything Katie does), you cannot do everything. You have to choose your priorities.

And the fact is, no one can make do it. I just have to make the choice, like choosing to budget or exercise. No one is going to handcuff me to my kitchen table one night a week.

But could you, someone?

On Wednesday, Courtney told me I should try to have one night each week at home. Like totally at home. Not an hour at home before dinner or after yoga and between volunteering. At. Home.

This weekend I'm heading to the beach with my family, which feels like the perfect opportunity to recharge and reconnect. Then, upon my return, Wednesdays officially become Whitney Wednesdays. Because (1) I love alliteration, obviously, who doesn't? and (2) they feel like the perfect midweek opportunity to have some quality alone time.

Courtney says she's holding me to it, which feels like the next best thing to handcuffs.

Let's do this!

PS: I'm not so narcissistic to think that you should now call Wednesdays the day of Whitney, too. But maybe you could have Solo Sundays or Togetherless Tuesdays or Me Myself and I Mondays -- really whatever resonates for you.

images via pinterest