Happy Friday. Happy Weekend.

This week has been insane.

Between three straight days of client meetings and all the work that went along with them, when my alarm went off this morning, I seriously considered just staying in bed and tuning it all out.

But like a good soldier, I got up and got ready for my day.

I was in slow motion as I left my house, the exhaustion lingering.

But.

It's hard to stay tired when you walk out in the morning to this.

Happy Friday. Happy Weekend.

And The Seasons They Go Round and Round

Ever since this morning, Joni Mitchell's The Circle Game has been playing in my head on repeat. It has been one of my favorite songs since I first heard it my very first summer at sleep-away camp when I was seven years old. 

It stuck with me, this song, even as I grew up. I always thought its message was hopeful. That time may pass, but there will always be new dreams.

This morning, I was a little early for my train. So for a few minutes before the train came rumbling into the station, I stood on the platform and looked out at the familiar view. The trees, the traffic on the Bronx River Parkway, the White Plains entrance to the Bronx River Pathway.

My view. My home.

The one year anniversary of our move is coming up in a couple of weeks. And as I took in the trees just starting to turn, it occurred to me that I have now been standing on that train platform for four seasons. Looking back, it seems utterly unfathomable that an entire year has passed, but I guess the proof is in the pictures. 

There is something about the view from the train platform that pulls at me, and several times over the past twelve months I have found myself pulling out my camera as I waited for the train. And as I was looking through the pictures this morning, I realized that I have a picture from each of the four seasons - our first four seasons in our brand new home.

I wasn't much of a photographer before we moved, but since we left the city, I am obsessed with documenting all the moments of our new life. So on the eve of the first anniversary of our move to the suburbs, here is my view from the train platform, as one season blends into the next, and our roots begin to grow.

Winter 2013

Spring 2013

Summer 2013

Fall 2013

A Proportional Response

"I haven't talked to him or seen him or anything, I swear." The lie rolled off my tongue before I had a chance to stop it.

We were mid-conversation, but my boyfriend of two years made an excuse and hung up without saying goodbye.

The line went dead with a defiant click that made my palms sweat and my stomach roll. I sat in the hallway of my summer dorm, glued to the floor, phone in hand. I didn't know how it was possible, but he knew I was lying. I was sure of it.

I told the lie to avoid destroying the fragile peace we had managed to forge.

A guy friend from college who was also spending the summer in D.C. was our current source of tension. Never keen on my hanging out with any other guy but him, my boyfriend grew increasingly possessive when he found out this friend would be in D.C. with me for ten weeks. He would call multiple times a day, and every time we talked he would find a way to ask if I had seen my friend. Or talked to him. Or had any kind of communication with him. I was tired down to my bones from trying to defend both myself and a friendship that was as innocent as they come.

Thinking it might help, I cut off all communication with the friend to help me get through the weeks until my boyfriend and I were back at school, together, where I was sure we could shore up our cracked foundation.

The source of the lie was an e-mail exchange during my eighth week in D.C. A dinner invitation was extended, which I rejected. It went no further, but somehow, my boyfriend found out and the distance in his voice when I called him back was proof.

I got up from the floor and went straight to my computer. Thinking I could fix it if we could see each other, I booked a train, packed a suitcase, and went to Long Island, where he was living for the summer.

My heart rose into my throat when I saw him in the parking lot of the train station. We had barely settled into the car when the confessions, apologies and excuses came pouring out of my mouth, fighting with each other for top billing. It would be months before it occurred to me that my reaction was completely out of proportion to the nature of my crimes.

When I finally talked myself out, he just looked at me. "I know. Your e-mail password was saved on my internet browser, so I logged in. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I guess we're even now."

Somewhere deep inside me was the knowledge that this egregious breach of privacy and trust was unforgivable. That I should turn around and take the next train back to D.C. and leave him behind.

But I didn't.

Instead, I jumped into his waiting arms and clung to him like a life preserver, relieved, for the moment at least, that the storm had passed.

Why Pittsburgh Sports Are The Best, In 2 Pictures

Friends. Sisters. Family. Birthday Wishes.

Dear M,

Tomorrow is your birthday. Your 30th. I thought about holding this letter off until then, but since I'll be seeing you tomorrow night to celebrate, I wanted to give you these words today, on the last day of your twenties.

Two nights ago I tried on a dress. A simple but interesting black wrap dress that I bought a few months ago. It's a dress that could fit in as easily at a cocktail party as it could on date night, and I could have worn it at least 3 or 4 times since I bought it, but I haven't. For three months it has been hanging in my closet, waiting. Because this isn't just any black dress, but the one that I will wear in three weeks on your wedding day. The one I will wear to watch my smart and beautiful best friend walk down the aisle and marry her man.

And when I was looking in the mirror deciding on alterations and accessories, I had a flashback of myself in front of similar mirrors in the weeks before my sisters' weddings. It occurred to me, as I was standing there in two different earrings and two different shoes, that I feel the same way now as I did then. That I am not just getting ready for a friend's wedding, but a sister's wedding. A family wedding.

Because over the past twelve years that is what we have become. Family. Family that is fun and fancy and silly and serious. Family that laughs together, cries together, celebrates together and mourns together. Family that walks life's twisty paths together.

Eleven months ago I stood on a street corner in the Upper West Side neighborhood where we became who we are, and watched you get engaged. And I knew that I was watching a turning point. A moment that would divide your life in before and after. That would draw a line between what was and what will be. Over the past year you have walked that line with grace and poise, and in three weeks, with a few words and a really fabulous ring, you will step over the line and into a future that is nothing but bright. I know without a doubt that the very best for you is still to come, and it is a privilege to be able to watch it all unfold.

I am nothing but grateful for the twist of fate that put us on the same freshman hall twelve years ago, and I am lucky every day that I get to call you my friend. My family. We've got your back. Always.

Happy 30th. To this day, and many, many more.

With love,

Sam

10/10/10 - 10/10/13: Three Years

Seven years together.

Three years of marriage.

Happy anniversary to my very best guy.

There's no one else I would rather have joining me on this wild and lovely ride.

2007

2008: Law School Graduation

2009

2010

2011

2012: Tel Aviv, Israel

2013: New House