to want to live your life

i have had some pretty insane projects at work lately-- consume every waking moment kind of projects. 

on monday i woke up and i thought, "i can't wait until tuesday and then this project will be over!" i spent the entire day monday waiting for tuesday and then i spent all day tuesday waiting for it to be 6pm. that was freedom. 

sometimes i spend my entire week just wishing it away. living for those two glorious free days at the end of the week when i inevitably watch more TV than i should. on tuesday said project got extended (oh joy.) i was devestated.

i had to have a literal pep talk with myself. alone in the bathroom... locked in a stall. i told myself that i can't spend an ENTIRE 48 hours just wishing for them to be over. 

what. a. waste. 

that is no way to live my life. i am so lucky to be alive and working in my chosen career. i should spend my days working on difficult projects pushing myself to be better.

so i said, "girl get your act together. now. live your life and try and be the best at whatever you do cause if you don't do it now the time is just going to pass by anyway and then what do you have?"

and that my friends is what i have to say.

xoxo-

har.

photo via.

journal prompt // list of 10 unexpected things

Jane

--closet--

four tubes of glowsticks

polaroid camera

--room--

a picnic basket with place settings for four

christmas presents for my family

--car--

polaroids of my sister and me

greeting cards 

two atlases, a large and small

two pairs of wedges

a plugin air freshener

--purse--

an article about secrets of motivated people

Harley

--car--

yarn and crocheting needles

bundles of all receipts from my sophomore year of college

fossil boots that need to be returned

contacts 

a secret puzzle box containing my wedding ring

a mini picnic basket

an award that says "awesome"

--room--

a christmas advent calendar with little christmas elves holding the ends

a lint roller 

about 15 space bags 

a doodles and daydreams notebook from 7th grade. all of the doodles are about a boy named jason.

--purse-- 

pistachios in a ziploc bag 

a green fine tipped sharpie

--closet-- 

christmas tree

if you do the journal prompt leave your link in the comments. we want to see! 

there's a reason i prefer dreamless nights

Last night I dreamed a tall, handsome man asked me to marry him. We were sitting together on the grass when he took me by the hand and pulled me up. He knelt and asked the simple question. Even being asleep though, my conscious unaware, I felt in the pit of my stomach that I was saying yes to the wrong person. I woke up sad and empty, aching.

I try so hard not to worry or think about the illusive "someday," but when it breaks through my subconscious like it did last night, it hurts. It's a cold breeze blowing through me, in a space I usually manage to ignore.

journal prompt link up // once...

Jane

Once when I woke up in the middle of the night, I saw a blinking red light on my wall coming from the widow. It was Christmas Eve and I was young, so naturally I thought it was Rudolf's nose. Definitely not car lights from the road across our yard.

Once when I woke up in the middle of the night, I found myself weeping from a dream. My youngest sister ran away from home and we couldn't find her. The heaving cries shook me awake.

Once when I woke up in the middle of the night, I thought it was 6am and time to get ready for school. It wasn't until after I poured my cereal that I noticed the clock read barely after midnight.

Harley

Once when I woke up in the middle of the night I heard my husband ranting in Danish. Not just a few words here and there, but a full on paragraph. A conversation with someone that I couldn't see. He also said something about our washer and dryer. 

Once when I woke up in the middle of the night, I found myself shaking in terror. In my dream people with guns were trying to rob our house and they had taken my little brother as a hostage.

Once when I woke up in the middle of the night, I heard sobs coming in through my bedroom window.  I got up out of bed and wandered over to the open window. I could still hear them, but I didn't know where they were coming from. I went to go get someone and by the time we got back the sobs had stopped. 

Once I woke up in the middle of the night, to shooting pain in my left leg. I thought I had been stung by a bee, but it turns out I had been bitten by a horsefly. 

journal prompt link up // living in another decade

Jane

This has always been one of my favorite pop questions because, until recently, I thought I had a great answer.

I asked someone last week, but he turned it back on me. The 70s, I answered automatically. He didn't let me off without an explanation though, and I was unprepared. Searching my knowledge of history, pop culture and literature, I tried to come up with something to back my answer.

The fashion? The free-spirited attitude of the decade? Surely not the oranges and browns or the shag carpet. Not the sex and drugs. I'll just change my answer I guess, since apparently there really isn't much in the 70s I feel like I'm missing. How about the 50s? Actually, no. I've studied the housewife era, and I don't think that's where I would fit in the best. Maybe the 20s. 

Is the depression worth the jazz and the clubs and all that? he asked me.

No. It's not worth it.

I was at a loss. I certainly wasn't going back any farther (I like my electricity and running water), and I definitely wouldn't choose the 80s (not far enough from the decade I actually grew up in). I stopped walking, turned and looked at him.

I choose now. I wasn't meant for any other decade.

journaling events

Here is a little peak inside my Journal! These are some specific pages that really try to capture events that have occurred in my life. 

One of my favorite things to do while journaling is keep things from said event. Ticket stubs, reciepts, napkins. You name it and I have most likely shoved it in my purse before with the intention of pasting it in my journal later. 

As you can see my my tickets stubs page... these are at the top of my list. I had been saving these for awhile intending to journal them all individually. Then I had so many that I decided a ticket page would do just fine. 

When I was journaling our one year anniversary I knew that I wanted to write everything down and create a collage of physical memories. I kept the ticket stub from when we saw the Dark Knight rises and drew a mini version of Navy Pier. I have the receipt from the fancy restaurant that we went to for dinner. Now I can always remember that I had the halibut and Michael had the crab cakes. I also snapped one picture with my instax camera to capture how we were looking in that exact moment. Made for a great overview of the celebratory day. 

For most of my journal additions I use a combination of photo splits and washi tape. I like the photo splits because they are super thin and don't make those weird drying lines that glue tend to. I use those primarily and then accent with washi tape later. 

For other major events I choose one quote that really captures the essence of what has happned. It also is a little bit like a code so when my little brother steals my journal he had no idea what has happend. This works for me now because these specific quotes target very specific memories. It might not work for everyone. And it might not work for me in the future when my memory starts to go. 

What is your favorite way to journal a specific event? 

Please share! I love learning new trips!

oxox

har.

Journal Prompt // Advice From Your Parents

Jane
I remember two things they told me time after time. The first: Tuck in your pockets. The second: Keep it simple.

After years of hearing the first, I now can say my pockets are always tucked in. The second, however, is constantly in the back of my mind. It whispers in times of insecurity and doubt, a comforting reminder, a reminder that I can get through anything as long as I take it slow and as simple as possible.

My parents told me to keep things simple in different ways--relationships, talking to people, in trying to achieve daily balance. Many nights they sat with me on the couch for hours talking me through hangups and worries and what was holding me back, but the conversation generally came down to one thing. Keep it simple.

What should I say if I have to leave a message? Keep it simple.

How do I tell him we should break up? Keep it simple.

How am I going to fit everything in this week? Keep it simple.

I overanalyze. (Is that because I'm human, or is it a girl thing?) I overthink and sometimes create so many more problems than there were in the first place. But as long as I listen to that quiet voice saying, keep things simple, keep things simple, I usually manage to sort things out. Which is a really good thing since my parents' couch is a few thousand miles away.

Harley
The one thing my dad always said to me was, "be nice to everyone."
Well that and don't date until you are 25.

every year he would sit me down before school started and tell me the same thing. i used to roll my eyes and say, "ok dad. i will."

now i realize that being nice to everyone is a pretty incredible lesson.

journal prompt // love list

This weekend we all wrote lists:

grab the button here

These can include things you are currently grateful for, anything that inspires you or makes you smile.

Jane
lemon water
my new gym membership keychain
the quilt on my bed
folding laundry
vampire diaries
tangelo woods lotion from b&bw
my soft xc t-shirt from 7th grade
tan lines
oatmeal chocolate chip cookies
cards in the mail from thoughtful friends
being tagged in instagram photos and comments
magnum double caramel ice cream bars
apple pears
spinning class
stumbleupon
texts from porter
good luck, charlie
gold sparkles
glitter in general
when my keys get foggy from the humidity
afternoon rain
dipping bread in oil & vinegar with parmesan
the word "consultation"(it reminds me of ramona and beezus)
"distance" by christina perri and jason mraz

Harley 
being with family, washi tape, fresh blueberries, clean hair, troll beads, cool fall air, waking up before 9, exercising daily, the black sheep cafe, exposed brick and hard wood floors,  job offers, leather, decluttering my life, vampire diaries, harley and jane giveaway, crocheting, road trips, wearing only mascara, watching the little sister play soccer, finding my memory card, photoshop, aquaphor, hair ties, plush carpet, diet coke and m&ms, challenging myself, The Night Circus, the Jersey Boys soundtrack, sleeping under a giant comforter while my husband drives, the beach, and little miss lola the cutest cat in the world

Journal Prompt 8 // Airports

Jane:
This is the first summer in a long time I haven't been on a trip that requires air transport. In 2008 I went to Maine with my family, back to my father's childhood home. I returned the next summer to Maine with my younger brother. The year after that was Vienna, where H&J began. And the summer of 2011 was the trip to Belize with my sister. What adventures.

The first trip to Maine was one of the few plane trips with my whole family. With seven of us, we don't travel through many airports together. Our trip back East was one complication after another, if I remember right. We were stuck in the airport after one flight was delayed. We were delayed in the next one as well, due to the first plane's issue. We didn't get to our hotel before the wee hours of morning, and we all were exhausted by the time we collapsed into bed.

We had to leave by 8am to catch our ferry (which was a couple hours away) to the little Atlantic island we were staying at on night two. Much to our chagrin, the ferry left earlier than expected, so we missed another leg of transportation. My poor dad. The combination of grumpy everyone, Camp Rock songs on repeat and the fact that we kept missing boats and planes and car rental places before closing just about did him in.

The second trip to Maine with my brother was a different kind of adventure. We were going alone, and I, the chronic worrier, was sick thinking about being responsible for getting us there in one piece -- between airports, flights, layovers, busses and taxis. I didn't want to be caught unprepared, so for days I planned. I printed pages of itineraries and receipts and maps, organized them into folders for both Levi and me, and I studied them to make sure I knew them forward and backward (he still makes fun of me...). We had our folders easily accessible on our carry ons and my was a ginger ale-stained, tattered mess by the time we arrived.

But we got there. We made it without missing any planes, busses or luggage, though my sanity and patience may have worn a bit thin.

The obsessive planning isn't such an issue anymore; over planning is exhausting and stressful in itself. Instead I try to sit back, enjoy my pretzels and imagine the adventures in wait on the other side of the journey. Even running through an airport is an adventure, no?



Grab the button here!

journal prompt 6// i come from...

Jane
I come from gold fields and sagebrush -- the country lands I never thought I'd love so much. I am from the apple orchards and cinnamon and rhubarb pie. I come from a childhood of shoveling and hard work. I am from frugality and hand-me-downs. I come from freckles, sprinklers, kayaking, rock skipping, starry nights. I come from the gold, pink, and blue neon lights of the county fair. I come from gingham and Huckleberry Finn. I come from a long line of writers and musicians, artists and scholars. I come from cool nights and oatmeal with honey. I come from bedtime stories and wishes of foreign sands and moons. I come from a place where romance blossoms in summer and where memories of first loves always remain. I come from practical jokes and running barefoot in the snow. I come from Titanic and Annie make believe. I come from a tomboy phase and an only-wear-dresses phase. I come from dressing myself and doing things first. I come from caution and fear. I come from scary dreams and wood stoves and the smell of baking bread. I come from Halloween poems, journals, John Denver, a crate of records, smeared mascara, ugly beige lockers. I come from lined paper, Pilot pens, broken crayons. I come from cookbooks and rocky ground, big gardens and sunburns. I come from never napping to napping every Sunday. I come from bad handwriting and heartfelt prayers.

Harley
I come from the west. The tall green fir trees. I come from afternoons spent running through the overgrown forest with my brother. Picking fresh blackberries off of prickly weeds.  I come from the fair. I come from missing school. I come from the scent of coffee as you walk down the street. I come from a father with a work ethic to rival champions. I come from a mother with pure love for children. I come from frugality. I come from moments hard to describe. A deaf brother that has helped me grow in ways I never thought possible. I come from a broken heart healed by the one person who was sent to fix it.

***

journal prompt 5 // write a letter to yourself

dear 12-year-old Harley-

School doesn't matter until you at in 9th grade. Stop stressing out about every single little assignment. Go outside and climb trees with your brother. Ride your bike over to Chelsea's house and jump on her trampoline. 

Cherish those sweatpants you love. Navy blue with an orange stripe down the side. As an adult you won't get to spend everyday nearly as comfortable. 

dear 14-year-old Harley-

I would suggest not trying out for the cheerleading team. Perhaps try your hand at theater instead?

dear 16-year-old Harley-

When you are leaving the movie theater put your favorite sweater INSIDE your purse. If you don't someone will swipe it and then you will mourn it for years to come. 

dump him. dump him now.

dear 18 year old Harley-

You are about to leave home and go to college. You are thrilled, but remember where you came from. Remember your family. That they love you. Remember your friends. They only want what is best for you. 

You mom is going to get a Facebook. It doesn't matter how you feel about it. Add her as a friend immediately and love her for the worried texts she sends regarding your recent status update. 

The boy that breaks your heart will make you stronger. I would tell you not to date him, but you need to. You need to go through that to become who you will be. He is not a terrible person- you two are just different. Embrace those differences about yourself. 

journal prompt 4 // silk

Jane
Silk. Satin. Silk. Blue satin sashes. I've heard silk pillowcases are most gentle and best for the delicate skin of one's face, but I've never had a silk pillowcase. Come to think of it, I don't think I have ever owned anything silk. My mother's wedding dress was silk, or satin. What is the difference? The dress is still in her closet, and I tried it on a few years ago. That must be a strange feeling, to see your daughter in your own wedding dress. It has a Victorian collar and puff sleeves, a huge bow at the base of the thin line of pearl buttons trailing down the back.
In high school I tried on a wedding gown as I shopped for a prom dress. It had a sweetheart neckline and the fabric pulled around my waist and fell to the ground in heavy, but lovely ripples. My mother cried a little when I stood on the platform to look at myself in the mirror.
That dress wasn't silk though. My aunt says silk reminds her of Mr. Darcy's sheets -- now that is quite enchanting. He was rich and it was England, so they must have had soft, creamy silk sheets. Imagine that. Waking up wrapped in silk with the summer breeze blowing long white curtains through the open window. A vase of wildflowers on the nightstand.


Harley
I know that silk is expensive. I know that I own one silk skirt, but I never wear it for fear of ruining it. I know I had a silk dress for one of my high school dances. It was a dark forest green. A short dress that hit just below my knees. I felt a little bit like royalty when I was wearing it. It had beautiful chiffon sleeves that flowed when I walked. Finding dresses for school dances was always something of a nightmare. I wouldn't wear sparkles. I could never find one that was the right length. The budget was generally small. This dress was an exception.

I was dating Jon at the time. He was Hawaiian. He came to pick me up at my house. I was 16 and excited for my first corsage. Only it wasn't a corsage. Jon had made me a homemade laie out of pink carnations. A sweet gesture in retrospect, but at the time I could only think of how mortified I was. My green silk mermaid dress accompanied by an obviously homemade necklace of carnations. Pink carnations. I didn't like pink.

I played nice. Told him it was pretty. He took me to dinner at a friends house where his mom cooked for us. I spilled soup all over my green dress. Silk can only be dry cleaned so there was nothing I could do except "enjoy" the remainder of my evening in my soup stained dress. People pretended not to notice.

After the dance I came home took off the dress and hid it in the back of my closet. It still hasn't been dry cleaned to this day.

Honestly...

I don't like the opera.

But I like my legs.

Babies stress me out.

I always judge books by their covers.

Nothing calms me like cleaning.

I deliberately do unlucky things to prove to myself that luck is all in my head (ironically, a superstition in and of itself).

I like to be alone, but I get really lonely.

I can't eat white bread without feeling guilty.

I hang my clothes facing left.

I wear sports bras as often as possible.

I plan to play the viola in my next life.

journal prompt 3 // people you have tried to imitate

Welcome back to the Journal Prompt Link-up. This week's list was:

people you have tried to imitate
(dress like, talk like, etc.)

Explanations are optional. Link up with your own below.
Make sure you take the button or tag us in your journal prompt if you would like to link up! 

Jane

1. Emma Watson as Hermione Granger: I searched in vain for the sneakers she wears in Prisoner of Azkaban.
2. Anne of Green Gables: Halloween costume age 10.
3. Ashley Tisdale: Had her haircut for three years.
4. Mary-kate and Ashley in The Challenge: One of them is obsessed with yoga, and that might play a part in my own love for it. Also, their hair. But I will never have their hair.
5. Ice Princess: The ice skating, obviously.  I took lessons and dreamed about it in my spare time.
6. Step up 2: I've always admired Andie's low, sultry voice. Every time I have a sore throat (and thus, a raspy voice), I quote her lines and can actually sound like her. Ask my brother. Also, I took dance lessons because of them.
7. Zooey Deschanel: Every movie. The clothes. The hair. The I'm-retro-cute-and-cool attitude. I have 60s dress patterns in my closet I'm still wanting someone to sew for me.
8. Hilary Duff in Cheaper by the Dozen: She owns buckets of MAC makeup, so I wanted MAC makeup too (but never got any).
9. Katniss Everdeen: I've mentioned this in previous posts, but she's just so cool. Who doesn't want to be as tough as Katniss Everdeen?
10. Daphne Reynolds (What a Girl Wants): My wardrobe went through a makeover after that movie came out. I wanted wide-legged flares, everything leather and vintage, and long, straight hair.

Harley

1. Daphne Reynolds. Jane and I apparently lived semi similar tween existences.She wore the most fabulous black books, flare pants, blazer, and scarf. I went out and bought almost the exact sme thing. I remember wearing it to school when I was in 8th grade. The boots has a giant platform. Someone told me that they thought I looked European. I was in heaven.
2. Her name was Alaina. Every time she caught me in the halls before class she would always ask how I was doing. How was my family. How was my day. Never once did she go off on one of those "this conversation is really about me" tangents. I made it a point to ask people more questions. Asking them conveys to the other person that you care. 
3. I shall call her Ashely, but that is not her real name. She was one of my high school acquaintances. She always looked so effortless and put together. A little bohemian mixed with what a rockstar wears on her day off.  A look I have still not mastered. Once, I bought a sweater because she had it. 
4. Patience is something I don't have. A new mom I have just met really demonstrates that acquiring this gift is possible. Even if her kids are crying and acting out she is so kind and handles them with a firm yet gentle love. I hope to have that one day. 
5. Hilary Duff. Or maybe I should say Lizzie McGuire. The hair the clothes. Oh how my tween self wished for her courage and sylist! Of course now I cringe a tad 
   
6. Lindsay Lohan in Mean Girls pre mean girl phase. I loved the look of her jeans and plaid shirt in the beginning. Also her long sleeved shirt and cropped cargos. So I bought army pants and flip flops. 

journal prompt 2 // a spiritual awakening

Welcome back to the Journal Prompt Link-up! This week we'd like to hear about:

a spiritual awakening

Link up with your own down below.

--------------------------- 
Jane
My faith, like many others I think, goes through lulls. It ebbs and flows, comes and goes. Usually the process is gradual enough that I only notice the extremes.

One night I felt especially low as I drove back to Utah from home in the claustrophobic darkness.The hour was late and I was alone and lonely. The song of my heart found voice to the sky in my empty car. I told Him of my sorrow and despair and how I felt trapped in a starless hole. I told Him I was stumbling, tripping, under the weight upon me and that I felt empty.

And I wept.

The prayer lasted for maybe ten miles. Twenty?

A few hours later I passed through Salt Lake, my lids wilting from the tears and fatigue. The Dr. Pepper and trail mix keeping me company were proving ineffective, so I switched between the radio, my book on CD, rolling down the windows, and blasting the AC to keep myself alert. At one point I realized I was surrounded by semi trucks, so I sat up a little straighter and forced my head to clear. I wasn't sitting straight enough though, because I didn't see the headlights in my rear view mirror. 

From the impact I thought it was a semi. My car shot forward and started to spin across the freeway. Afraid I would roll by braking or steering, I took my hands off the wheel and my foot away from the pedals, but the spinning continued and I seemed only to gain speed.

A cloud of pink dust surrounded my car from the moment he struck me, and it appeared so dense I could not see more than a few feet ahead. Ergo, to this moment I do not know what else happened around me in the few seconds I slid across three freeway lanes.

My hands found the wheel once more and my foot the pedal, and I pressed down hard. The 10 foot cement median wall stopped my car with the sickening, wrong sound of folding metal.

The pink dust cleared.

Smoke rose from under the hood, and the back of my car was jutting into the carpool lane. I was panting and my body shook, either from cold or adrenaline. Or both. As I instinctively reached for my cellphone, which was remarkably still on the seat next to me, I remembered. Not two hours before had I wept to the heavens, brokenhearted, about feeling abandoned. I begged for acknowledgement and comfort. Peace.

And there I sat, unscathed and protected, wholly encircled by something more than pink dust.

---------------------------- 
Harley
A spiritual awakening.
Talk about a daunting journaling topic. I have been thinking about this for a week and I've struggled to put pen to paper on this topic.

If I am being honest I have never really had one of those BOOM moments, when everything clicked and I was suddenly sure. But maybe that is just a way of saying I don't try hard enough.

 However, I do know that in very small specific moments I find the existence of God completely undeniable.

A new mother holding her baby for the first time.
Standing on the beach in Italy looking out over the sea.
Marrying my husband.
Driving over the rocky mountains.
Fireflies.

It is those things. Those really small things that keep me spiritually alive.

In 2010 I was on a backpacking trip in Italy. We were in Cinque Terra. The scenery was unbelievable. The things people write about in fairy tales. I had my blue iPod and a playlist made by my friend Jana. The Passion Pit manners cd was on repeat.

It was standing in the sand, looking over the clear blue water, listening to music when I felt like I wasn't alone. That someone cared and they wanted me to be happy.
I was awake. 
I was alive.
And I was going to live that way for the rest of my life. 

memories of belize

Last night I dreamed about volunteering with HELP International again, but this time in Costa Rica instead of Belize. Kind of made me nostalgic for our little San Ignacio and the friends we made there. It's been a year now, which is nuts.

Here are a few (of the many) journal entries.

June 11
Sweat. Down my back. Soaking my sports bra. On my upper lip. EVERYWHERE.


Also, I ate a termite. Kyle said they should taste like minty carrots -- which, if you ask me, sounds disgusting -- but I chewed and swallowed so fast I hardly tasted a thing. 


June 14
I did four minutes of calf raises yesterday, and along with my workout this morning and walking around and around town today, those poor calf muscles have only gotten worse. Every time I stand, they are a bit tighter. I can't stand with straight legs.


June 19
On the way home from church today an unexpected rain shower dumped on us. I couldn't believe how big those raindrops were -- it was a torrential downpour without a doubt. Anyway, we ran, giggling through the streets. 


June 22
Today I stepped in a pile of red biting ants, and I also was careless (idiotic) and never reapplied sunscreen. Now I'm praying praying praying that my poor red nose won't blister and that I won't get skin cancer and I'm promising I'll wear enough sunscreen the rest of the summer. Pray for my nose. Pray hard. I'd prefer to go through the rest of our trip with a normal colored nose.


July 8
I'm still loving PEACE Camp. Love those kids. Aaliyah can't come next week she told us today and we're all so sad about it. She's our little rainbow everyday -- always sweet and smiling. After camp she hung around hugging us and clinging to our waists.


July 10
Yesterday we went to hell and back. It was a journey through a Mayan cave, and probably one of the best adventures I've ever been on. We went with Aaron, our tour guide, through these winding passages and narrow rock tunnels. We wore helmets and lights and had to swim up through the caves. There were a few moments I got claustrophobic because we were up to our necks in water and had to squeeze our heads through tiny crevasses in a ten-foot long passage to get to the other side. It was totally thrilling! Periodically Aaron would tell us to gather around and shut our lights off. We stood in complete darkness giggling (out of terror probably) and he would say, "Shhhh. Listen. Listen to the cave." 

journal prompt // a first in love

Happy Monday! We're excited to kick off the first journal prompt link up. The prompt for this week's was:

Tell about "a first" in love (first love in general, first kiss, etc.).

Link up if you wrote your own -- we can't wait to share your secrets!

----------------------------

By Jane
We were wrapped up in each other and sitting with our faces close. Whispered words we exchanged, some lighthearted and others philosophical.

Emotion swirled in the small separating space between us, tying together our kisses and laughter.

He moved across the room and sat on the Persian rug to look for something. Attached with the quiet, yearning string that accompanies blossoming affection, I followed and perched Indian style in front of him, shamelessly wanting to be the sole focus of his attention.

The kiss was interrupted. My eyes were closed and his breath was on my lips when slipped out a sentence, releasing a cage of wild flutterings inside me.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

My usual tendency is slowness, deliberate caution, so I was surprised when, even though my heart pounded and my face flushed, I said it back without hesitation. And I knew I meant it completely.

----------------------------

By Harley
We had met twice in person.
With countless hours of talking, emailing and skyping in between.
The third encounter.

I had fought these feelings. The ones that I pretended not to have. Hidden behind the facade of anger when really it was sadness.

I was enamored by your charm and devastated when it was used against me. After a quick summer romance I was feeling invincible. Your looks. Your wit. Your appeal. You couldn't catch me.

We found ourselves side by side looking up at the stuccoed ceiling speckled with gold flakes. He moved closer and I hid my face.

He kissed my forehead.
"Don't do that...I'm not kissing you."
My cheek. My chin.
"Alright, but not my lips."
My forehead. Small kisses down my cheek bone. 
The butterflies I had repressed for so long whirled up inside me. 
My nose. My temple. My closed eyes. 
His lips graze the corner of my mouth. 
I said nothing. 
My lips.
----------------------------

"Here's to the backpack run."

Have you ever tried to fit five people in a photo booth? How 'bout six?

*

This is Harley and I {sorry for the confusion, but I'm on Har's account posting right now} with a few of our best friends -

the girls we spent three months with last summer while we traveled around Europe {mainly Austria}.

It was magic.

*

Last week, one of the girls {third of 17} got married, and a few of us were at the reception to celebrate.

We jump on any chance to get together and be c r a z y, as seen by the photos above.

PS Don't mind the one where I look a bit mental. Harley told me, "You kinda look like you're on drugs. Just sayin."

*

Want to hear a funny story from our summer?

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Journal entry June 20, 2010. We hurried to get on the U-4 at Friedensbruke where the Plummers live so we could make it back to Heitzing before our 10:56pm bus left. We knew we were cutting it super close, so we stood at the doors, ready to pull the handles in unison. The subway slowed.

"Here's to the backpack run," I said.

"Here's to making our bus," Harley replied. The subway stopped, and we jerked the doors open and sprinted up the stairs and out the door, only to see our bus pulling away.

"Quick!" I shouted. "We can still make it to the next stop!" We took off running again. The road is under construction, so the bus takes a couple blocks of detour before the first stop.

My heart was bursting out of my chest and my legs felt like jelly, but we both kept running as fast as we could, our bodies being thrown off balance by our heavy backpacks. We made it to the stop, right as the cursed bus pulled up. We climbed on and sank into our normal seats in the back. We looked at each other; hot, sweat dripping down our cheeks and foreheads, and our bodies trembling from the adrenaline rush. We burst into raspy laughter. Neither of us could believe we had really just made the bus.

xoxo

Jane.