Messy Mess.

I have a not-so-secret crush on messy top buns. Bri from Designlovefest.com does them better than anyone alive, she's the top two pics. I absolutely worship her style, and think you should totally check out her blog when you have a second. Here are a couple of other lovelies from the web. Aren't these great styles for hot summer days?

Passion.

"The saddest people I've ever met in life are the ones who don't care deeply about anything at all. Passion and satisfaction go hand in hand, and without them, any happiness is only temporary, because there's nothing to make it last."

- Nicholas Sparks

This resonates with me today for some reason. I guess because I sometimes feel like the people who withhold emotion can be seen as stronger... somehow unbreakable. It just occurred to me just now that they may already be broken.

Common Ground.

I hadn't posted anything except other people's stuff lately. I guess I just haven't had much to say. Not in that I am depressed, only quite the opposite. I think most of my "inspirational" posts tend to be gathered around times in my life when things have been more difficult somehow. Kind of like how I've always secretly felt like the world's best writers have always been alcoholics or madmen... I guess the less than stellar parts of our lives tend to inspire us towards writing it all down. I don't know.

Anyways, in the grand tradition of my divulging more information than I need to (I'm a pro at this), let me fill you in on something. Yesterday I got in an argument. Nothing major. Not in the least. Two people, with two different backgrounds and two different upbringings, will always think differently. I used to be terrified of arguing with people. Like, nailed to the floor covering my eyes petrified. The more I grow up the more I know that disagreements are one of the best things to happen to two people. It means several things. One: You are challenging one another... perhaps even pushing each other's limits and helping the other person grow in ways they might not have had you never entangled. Two: You're being honest. I know that if I get my way all the time, or if no one ever tells me they disagree with me- there is a good chance they are simply appeasing me. They're hiding their own desires and putting mine above it all. Which is a lovely thought in theory but I want to know that the people I surround myself with are strong people with original thoughts and ideas. I want to know that it is together that we work to make our lives rich- and not just by playing follow the leader.

I say this a lot, but disagreements are really just opportunities. Chances to see things in a different light. It is only through fighting FAIR that this is possible. And it is only through a process of swallowing your pride that resolution can be found. I remember the days of proving my point. The days of one person being "right" and the other, by default, being "wrong." And maybe I'm just getting tired, or lazy, or downright old. But those days are far behind me. I have zero interest (after the initial burst of irritability in an argument) in being right. I have no interest in being a sole survivor in the race against my own pride. I want, in any fight be it with friends or boyfriends or family, to be at peace. I don't feel peaceful in my corner alone. I don't even feel much satisfaction in being "right." I feel happiest when we can all find a common ground. When I can admit the parts of my behavior that might have been less than great and they can admit the parts of theirs. And we can laugh it off and move forward knowing that we have just had a successful disagreement. It's a nice feeling.

Florence and the Machine.

I saw her last night and it was amazing. I was disappointed she didn't play Heavy in Your Arms only because I love it so much but the band did perform The Drumming Song which is my favorite!!

Spotlight.

"The universe doesn't care if you're scared. I know this is not news, but you need to hear this. I'm scared, you're scared, we're all scared. The difference is whether you're going to keep moving. I really hope you will."

- Merlin Mann.

Character.

"The measure of a man's real character is what he would do if he knew he would never be found out."
Thomas Babington Macaulay.

Beauty.

I was trying to describe you to someone a few days ago. You don't look like any girl I've ever seen before.

I couldn't say: "Well she looks just like Jane Fonda except that she's got red hair and her mouth is different and of course she's a movie star."
I couldn't say that because you don't look like Jane Fonda at all.
I finally ended up describing you as a movie I saw when I was a child in Tacoma, Washington. I guess I saw it in 1941 or '42: somewhere in there. I think I was seven or eight or six. It was a movie about rural electrification and a perfect 1930's New Deal morality kind of movie to show kids.
The movie was about farmers living in the country without electricity. They had to use lanterns to see by at night, for sewing and reading, and they didn't have any appliances, like toasters or washing machines, and they couldn't listen to the radio.
Then they built a dam with big electric generators and they put poles across the countryside and strung wire over fields and pastures.
There was an incredible heroic dimension that came from the simple putting up of poles for the wires to travel along. They looked ancient and modern at the same time.
Then the movie showed Electricity like a young Greek god coming to the farmer to take away forever the dark ways of his life.
Suddenly, religiously, with the throwing of a switch the farmer had electric lights to see by when he milked his cows in the early black winter mornings.
The farmer's family got to listen to the radio and have a toaster and lots of bright lights to sew dresses and read newspapers by.
It was a really fantastic movie and excited me like listening to "The Star-Spangled Banner" or seeing photographs of President Roosevelt or hearing him on the radio.

"...The President of the United States..."

I wanted electricity to go everywhere in the world. I wanted all the farmers in the world to be able to listen to President Roosevelt on the radio.

That's how you look to me.

-Excerpt from Revenge of the Lawn, By: Richard Brautigan.

A Different Kind of Hero.

I can vividly remember growing up and feeling like my sister hung the moon. She was the epitome of everything "cool" and "smart" and "fun." I wanted so much to be like her. She was exciting and outgoing, and could run faster and jump higher than any boy I knew. She had the blond hair I always wanted and was the athlete I would never become. Everyone loved her and I admit that there were plenty of times that I felt quite a bit of jealousy towards her ease in social situations. She was my hero. The first hero I ever had.

Jill's life was always destined to go down a different path than mine. When she was my age, she was already a mother and a wife. She always knew that was what she wanted to be when she grew up. I always find it amusing when people downplay women who choose to be homemakers as a career, because I have seen first hand how difficult that job can be. It really is one of the most difficult career paths someone can go down, and I continue to admire my sister for excelling at it. With her hands full as a Mom to four children, all of which have classes and lessons to attend on a daily basis, Jill handles it the way she does everything else in her life. She glides through it, making it look like the easiest thing possible. When Jill went into the hospital last fall, it took no less than her 4 siblings, 3 in-laws, husband, parents, and 4 nieces to fill her shoes. That's just the way it is with Jill. She's got some tough Jack Purcell's to fill.

As the months wear on, and Jill has begun to update us on her own through her social networking sites, I am right back to where I was when I was 8 and she was 12. I watch in awe as my original hero emerges from what might be her toughest obstacle yet in the only way she knows: success. Her daily trials are many and her frustrations are probably more, but she does it all with dedication and her long-standing drive. Jill has always been someone that I admire, but she has become a different hero as of late. A better one. Her strength stands to remind me every day that life will never stop being difficult. And sometimes when you least expect it, it throws you a giant curve ball. But the way I see it, the real heroes in life aren't the people who climb one mountain. They're the people who never stop climbing them.

A Fresh Take.

Lots of things inspire me on a daily basis. Although I'm embarrassed to admit it; I spend a great deal of time reading blogs. But, in my humble opinion, there is just SO much out there to expose one's self to. So many great ideas and so many interesting thoughts to read. So I want to make more of an effort on here to show you what I see. To show you what inspires me. Here is one for today:

"Many films diminish us. They cheapen us, masturbate our senses, hammer us with shabby thrills, diminish the value of life. Some few films evoke the wonderment of life's experience, and those I consider a form of prayer. Not prayer "to" anyone or anything, but prayer "about" everyone and everything. I believe prayer that makes requests is pointless. What will be, will be. But I value the kind of prayer when you stand at the edge of the sea, or beneath a tree, or smell a flower, or love someone, or do a good thing. Those prayers validate existence and snatch it away from meaningless routine." -Robert Ebert on Terrance Malick's The Tree of Life.

Kind of makes you want to see the movie huh? And even better, for me, is the way it makes you look differently at prayer in and of itself.

Friday Tidbits.

I schlove this bathroom decor. And the quote below.