The last few days of Frocktober were by far my favorite. Not because of the dresses or the outfit combinations, but because we were able to take off on a little vacation to find the Fall. We had long been planning to visit our friends Colin and Victoria in North Carolina, and a few months ago we finally took the plunge and bought the tickets. It's something we've been looking forward to ever since.
After our red eye flight from Arizona, they came and picked us up at the airport in Atlanta and we began the long drive to the mountains of Blowing Rock, North Carolina. Even though we were functioning on about four hours of sleep, the crispness in the air was enough to rejuvenate us. (Although I won't deny a few car naps on the way). When we finally got to the mountains the evening of the 30th, pulling into the driveway right at sunset, it was as if the mountains themselves were sighing along with us. This is the life.
Day 24 : Dress (remixed): gifted, Top: LOFT outlet, Cardigan: old, Shoes: Blowfish Day 25 : Dress (remixed 1, 2): J. Crew outlet, Denim Top (remixed): Ruche
These last few weekends I have been having very acute cravings for laziness.
It starts somewhere around Friday morning, after I've had my coffee and I begin to count down the hours and the minutes to pajama time. My Friday night parties include me, my TV (or a good book), my cats, and something to snack on. I am quite the night lifer, I know.
My husband, though, is the opposite. He craves actual parties. He loves people and is energized by events and get-togethers and plans. I want no plans. I want couch.
Sometimes it's a struggle to find a balance for what we both want and need.
My husband feels really frustrated and unaccomplished when we spend too much time on the weekends doing nothing. (Which, I would argue, having an all-day sitcom marathon is not nothing). But, I see his point and I think lately I've just been wanting to crawl into my shell and disappear for a while. It's a part of me that shows up every once in a while, the extreme introvert that can occasionally take over. I've been especially susceptible to her lately.
And also, I kind of just miss marathons. As disgusting as it was, I miss those years where we would literally watch TV for days, binge-watching shows together and being completely free to do so. Sure, we would eat our weight in crap like pizza and cookie dough but it kinda felt like a vacation.
Right now we're stuck in that awkward stage of really wanting to partake in bouts of all-day indulgences, while also trying to find the strength and resolution to admit that oh my goodness my body hates me I'm too old for this crap. It's a side effect of the mid-twenties.
Friday night I went to a 10 o'clock showing of Gone Girl with my dad and little brother and I feel like death warmed up. I just can't stay up that late anymore. I desperately want to hold on to my adolescence and take a full weekend to watch TV, but that's pretty irresponsible and is generally a waste of my time and a drain on my energy. It's time that I could be using to actually do something worthwhile.
I wish I had the answers to feeling more secure, more grown up, more accomplished. I think we're both just feeling like we're in a rut and we're not sure how to get out of it, how to keep moving forward. We're just in the money-saving, planning, hoping in-between stage. Things are happening and we have ideas and goals and "I cant wait for"s, but it's just a lot of patience and waiting.
Maturity encourages patience, so I'm going to keep putting on my dresses and going out into the world to nourish learning, activity, exercise, and relationships.
That childish gal within me who wishes to stay in her pajamas for days at a time will just have to be saved for very, very special occasions. Like a real vacation, once we've saved up and earned one.
I'm not even going to ask if you've seen The Notebook - I'm just going to take it as a given, because anyone who hasn't at least seen the iconic love story between Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams is a kind of creature I don't really understand.
We had the opportunity two weekends ago to go to Charleston, SC for a day and a half.
It was a quick trip, but it was just long enough to soak up much of the magic that surrounds Allie Hamilton and Noah Calhoun.
Charleston is a pretty enchanting city.
The fascinating (and tragic) history, the quaint streets, the southern charm, the waterfront, the food.
The fact that it was also the setting for many iconic Notebook scenes is just a really, really big bonus.
A lot of what we saw was the embodiment of Noah and Allie's first date.
The theater, and of course the place where they danced and then plopped down in the middle of the street to watch the lights change.
It's one of the most beloved scenes. Such simplicity, such romance.
I was glad I looked up the cross streets beforehand, because we were walking around during the daytime and I never would've recognized it. There isn't actually an overhanging stoplight there, either. It's quite different in the film - but the one thing that stands out is this amazing baby blue building.
I'm not gonna lie - I legitimately wanted to try and finagle a way to risk my life and lie down in the middle of the road later that night.
The problem was, once we parked our car at the hotel that afternoon, we couldn't move it, because it was $20 every time to go in and out of the parking garage. So we had to stick with walkable places within a mile or so and this intersection was several miles away. It was just too far to go back to.
Still, I thought about it and wished for it. But it just wouldn't be the same, without that overhanging stoplight, without Dusty beside me (who would have had to man the camera), and obviously with the additions of the rush of modern oncoming traffic. Puts a damper on things.
There are so many little corners of the world that I will not go.
Sweet little towns I will not see, darling cupcake shops I will not sit in. Tiny boutiques and gourmet restaurants, historical buildings and crumbling bits of history. Times and places and textures I will never touch.
I may never go to Charleston again. This tiny window of a visit may have been the only chance we ever get, and while sometimes I wish we could have had a bit longer, the sweet brevity of it may have been the best part.
Maybe the charm of a town is its many mysteries.
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