Blossoms In Her Hair

But first, read. Don't think too much.


You were too hyped up for me macaron, I should’ve known. I searched for a euro to buy you (kind of pricey if you ask me) and when I held you in my hand you were the smallest biscuit ever. I’ve heard delightful stories and have seen pictures of you, you are deceiving my friend. Crunchy on the outside and chewy on the inside but then again I really didn’t know what to expect. Thank you though, for allowing me to experience you first hand. I chose your yellow friend right there who was “lemony” and before I knew it, it was smacked out of my hand into a puddle of water. I died a little inside. Until we meet again macaron.

“Did you stand there all alone?”

Processed with VSCOcam with t1 presetFavorite song of October is “Cigarette Daydreams” by Cage The Elephants. I do recommend.

Note To Myself

Processed with VSCOcam with t1 presetI don’t know you very well. Everyday you surprise me and the more we continue to go through life together I find that your interest grow. I’m excited to know you in 5 years.

And so it is called, “The International Street”

IMG_1291It’s interesting what these streets bring. I have found a new love for adventure, even if it is 20 minutes away from my apartment.

Travel With Me

It has officially been a week since I’ve been in this beautiful city Florence. My mind has been racing to keep up with these Florentines mentally and my feet have been trying to keep up with them physically.  I am exhausted. I am gaining a new perspective. I am learning.

Coming into this city I was aware of the beautiful art I would see. Names and names of artist float around the architecture and it’s not just here it’s everywhere in Europe. Then as I walk away from these marvelous pieces I see graffiti. Which to me graffiti in another country is like finding scraps from an artist thrown out on the side. I SEE THEM EVERYWHERE and I don’t mind it one bit. There different on every street, sort of like they tell a story. A story that only the person who drew it knows. I wish I would’ve been there.

So I’ll make my own.

IMG_0365Leo and his mom were walking home from a long day…
She had her mind on money and all other mom worries. While he was struck with curiosity by this floating heart. The heart lead to an exit from the site of his mother.




IMG_0368Leo followed the heart. Trying to snatch it with his hands and his mother continued to walk aimlessly thinking and thinking. Finally he jumped on it to hold it down, but the heart floated with him on it. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed the heart until the height began to frighten him.

“Let me down,” he cried. So the heart stopped and a ladder appeared to his rescue. Another exit, perfect!

But the ladder didn’t reach the ground……



IMG_0369He cried for help and worried that his mother would be looking for him soon. “Help!!” he yelled. And a balloon appeared. He jumped to hang from the balloon. Now he was finally on his way down.


But the balloon began to fly away and take him with it. He looked down searching for anything he could grab.



He saw a ledge he could jump onto. But as soon as he jumped he slipped off and caught the edge as quickly as he could. Now he would never get down. Shutting his eyes, he began to cry and wish he had never followed the floating heart.



IMG_0365“Leo!” his mom called, “we have to go or we’ll miss the bus!”

Leo quickly opened his eyes and saw the floating heart. Whew, he thought. And  he continued to follow his mom like he was before…..

Summer Bummin’

So far summer has been something. I’ve enjoyed moments of being extremely bored to  going on a late night Sonic run. I have yet to find a job but that’s ok, it’s given me time to make great memories with someone very special. As the summer continues the days get shorter here in Texas and my semester in Italy comes closer. There is still so much to do before my departure and so many moments I have to face but before it comes I want to enjoy my stay here.

Hope your having fun as well!!

Something’s You Save

I saw her cry. I saw tears streaming down her pink lovely cheeks. I saw sadness in eyes where I always saw love. I saw pain fighting with the hope in her eyes. And I was scared, very scared because hope it was losing. I had never been more scared in my life. I know this sounds crazy but every drop that fell from her eyes felt like a knife being buried in my heart. Deeper. Deeper. God, I wanted to stop the tears. I didn’t know how, they were so heavy. They took her and wiped her clean. Her cry made sounds of damage and resentment. Like someone had hurt her before, like someone had made her life a living hell and somehow she managed. Managed to repair broken shambles of her life and spin it back into something unbreakable. But it wasn’t unbreakable. Because tonight, she broke. For once she was unsteady, exhausted, powerless, defenseless, vulnerable, fragile and incapable of any self-control. Her hands hovered her face trying to keep it from falling with whatever dignity had adrift. She closed her eyes in hope that it would all stop. Maybe she would blink to get out of the daze and her eyes would adjust back to the road. But this was real, not a daze.


Beside her was a guy. “I didn’t know you cried so much you always seemed so stern,” he said in disbelief.

“I’m weak, this is me!” I cried.



You’ll Always Be Little To Me

         Just yesterday we were in the back room of grandmas house playing “school.” Like always you were the student and I was the demanding teacher who gave you blank papers of homework and wrote in ineligible cursive. Needless to say you were always the one I wanted to play and fight with. When I reminisce on the old times I laugh because of how silly it makes me feel, but in that moment I remember just how close we were. Mom always tells the story of when you first came home from the hospital I went up to the table and there you were, a brand new baby. It must have been out of jealousy that I scratched your whole face and the marks still show on your face till this day.  Sorry about that.

We have been through so much together and have shared the same struggles. Something’s we shouldn’t have encountered and something’s really made the best times of our lives. I figured when we got older our relationship would become stronger, but we haven’t gotten that far yet and that’s ok.

Now you are graduating.  Something that not everyone is able to accomplish, you have done. Aside from all the arguing we do and nonverbal communication we have I want to say that I am so proud of you and love you very much! Although we don’t have the greatest relationship there is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you because you’re my brother and no one can replace the spot you hold in my heart. I hope that you are able to come to me when you need me the most and seek advice from me when you feel confused or worried. Because I will always be here for you whether we’re miles, hours, rooms, states or feet a part.

I love you, little brother.

Goodbye New York

There’s something about the other side of the world. It grabs my attention, it’s not something I’m used to, I lose track of time and I hate saying goodbye. Much like New York, my recent visit or path I have come across.

New York, had a way of telling me secrets out of stories. It was sort of as if New York secretly wanted to just tell me everything, his whole life story from the beginning. And since we were behind screens, I didn’t have much to do but read. Carefully and diligently I read into the things New York confessed to me. I heard the voice of someone who trusted me with their deepest thoughts even when they hadn’t met me in person. When it was my turn to type, I had trouble sharing my story. I wanted to be interesting like New York and it seemed that I was because he wanted to know more and more about me. As if he wasn’t already fed up enough from the glamorous night life or high-end living, he wanted to know me.

Before I knew it three hours had passed of getting to know New York. I forgot for a while that I was still across the other side of the world because there was strong connection between us. The conversation flowed so normally without force and when it seemed like there was a dull moment there was always something new to talk about. I laughed out loud and even thought out loud a couple of times. I adjusted myself on the bed several times to get comfortable so that I could read and type without any hassle. And I waited patiently as I read “stranger is typing…” on the screen. I was so careful not to close out the screen or make a sudden move that would end my whole conversation with New York, and little did I know he was doing the exact same.

And then it was time for him to go. Reality called and we realized that a screen separated a connection we thought couldn’t be disconnected. I wish I had more time with New York and while I like to think I did from the last 3 hours of deep, honest conversation there was whole lot we didn’t know about each other. There was an ache in my heart when I typed goodbye, and it ached even more when he told me he hoped our paths would cross again one day. Because I didn’t intentionally mean to get onto his path and he didn’t either it just sort of happened.  I had made a friend in the weirdest but most unforgettable way. The worst part is, its hard saying goodbye face to face but when you’re miles a part and should be face to face its even harder.

New York has a dream of performing his music in front of large crowds one day and while it seems impossible for him to reach it, I know that one day he will. I don’t know when Ill visit New York again but I hope that it will just happen like it once did. And just like that the stop button was pressed and our conversation was gone. There was no way to get it back and I stared at the blinking cursor waiting to reply to him. I thought about how wonderfully strange it would be if the whole world communicated like this. The innocent and simple conversations that could be brought to life by trust. For many trust takes time and isn’t given to any stranger, and that may be so but tonight I lived a little and I gave trust with my eyes shut. And for a few hours I was me just me and I didn’t have to pretend or be cautious of what I said or did. It was pretty great.

Take care New York and if you ever read this well this just shows that I kept my word to you that night because this post is about you….


She’s Whiskey In A Teacup!

We all have that one side of us no one knows about and you haven’t met my Texas yet! I don’t come across as your Southern girl who wears cowboy boots and digs the guys with big trucks but it doesn’t mean I don’t love it.

I’m not a small town girl, yet I wouldn’t mind living as one. The Friday night football and tailgate parties with big trucks everywhere sounds like a night to remember. I can see the bluebonnets in the summer and white cotton in the fall. The large houses with big front porches that always take my breath away. I love the tire swings tied to the biggest tree in the front yard followed by acres and acres of clean-cut grass. That one river where all the young teenagers go and fish in the moonlight, that’s my kind of night.

I imagine the date I will have with a cowboy. His big tfour-wheeled truck and jeans that fit him perfectly. I picture a field of high weeds and sunflowers surrounded by barb wired fence while we lie in the bed of his truck. It sounds picture perfect, I wonder if this really does happen?  You’re right, I don’t own a pair of cowboy boots partly because there so darn expensive and I would hate for them to sit pretty in my closet. But I love the idea of worn out boots and a white dress with a jean jacket to cover.

Country music playing as a group of friends drive down a dirt road and with their feet out the window. Uncontrollable wind blowing my hair everywhere, but not giving a care in the world. I want the accent and phrases that make people wonder what you just said. Though I do say “y’all,” that’s  my only share of Southern slang.

I picture my dream home filled with three barefoot children running around the wooden floor. Our dinner table full of friends and family as we fill ourselves with chicken and biscuits with gravy. Where we swallow a home cooked meal with some sweet tea in mason jars and have sweet talks about Jesus.

At the end of the day I’m just a big city girl with a secret side of country and a little bit of gravy, I mean crazy!

But a gal can dream…