"To the wiggly street, please!" San Francisco Recap!

This past weekend, I got to spend four fabulous days with two of my dearest friends out in sunny California.

I really do lead a rough life, I know.

Below is a little glimpse into our trip.

• My flight from Cincinnati to San Francisco was nearly five hours! I had no idea it would be so long. It was incredibly turbulent, and the woman sitting next to me was wearing the same Diane von Furstenberg scarf. The nerve! 
• I nearly cried when I saw Libby and Kelsey. We haven't all been together in over nine months!

• I am not woman enough for those San Francisco hills. I woke up with my calves and lower back sore each morning! Pathetic.

• We quoted "Girls" every chance we got and met a guy who we swore was a ringer for Jessa's husband, Thomas-John (in hindsight, he looked nothing like Thomas-John).

• Alacatraz tours SELL OUT. Who knew?
• A woman working at Bloomingdale's David Yurman counter almost talked us into financing the rings we were lusting after (Only twelve monthly payments of $43! No interest!). We were strong and resisted (well- Lib and Kelsey were strong and helped pull me away).
• We had some of the most amazing dinners, including Indian food at Dolsa and Vietnamese at The Slanted Door. We also got a huge cloud of lemongrass cotton candy for dessert at The Slanted Door- so whimsical and fun!

• Speaking of food, I ate Eggs Benedict a lot. I have no idea why.

• Napa Valley was heaven. I don't know if I've ever had a more magical day. The vineyards were breathtaking. The wine was exquisite. I felt like I didn't have a care in the world. Unfortunately, I never caught sight of Nick Parker. I suppose he was off with Elizabeth James and the girls!

• I already miss Libby and Kelsey terribly.

Thank you for such a wonderful weekend, San Francisco! You were a beautiful, friendly, and clean city (seriously- so clean), and I am already looking forward to my next visit!

Libby and Kelsey- I love you both so very much and cannot wait for our next adventure!

All by myself...yet again.

Before I begin this post, please allow me to set aside my "Hopeless Romantic" beret and put on my Carrie Bradshaw hat instead.

Perfect.

Now then.

Since the beginning of December, I have been talking to a really wonderful guy. This guy was a friend turned lover (or as Carrie would say- lovah!) so let's just call him Mr. FTL for the remainder of this post.

You know, as I am all for anonymity and whatnot.

Mr. FTL has always held a special place in my heart.

I met him when he started dating Rachel last February (yes- he is Rachel's ex, which is a bit scandalous, I know).

Mr. FTL can be summed up in these three adjectives: friendly, kind, and fun.

He is the sort of guy who will listen and laugh at all of your stories and jokes, even when they are (seldom, of course) not that funny.

He bounces on the balls on his feet when he is telling a story he is especially excited about.

His voice is always just brimming with brightness. With his charming accent, it's easily one of my most favorite voices in the world (in addition to President George W. Bush's and any British accent, that is).

Mr. FTL and I have always had great chemistry, and I've considered him a dear friend since we met around this time last year.

He moved back to his hometown in June, causing his and Rachel's relationship to end. Mr. FTL and I remained close though, texting occasionally and staying in touch. He would visit once every few months, and our nights out were as fun as ever.

Towards the middle of November, we began to talk more frequently, and by the time he visited in December...something besides friendship felt like it was buzzing in the air. There was a new sort of electricity between us, and it felt exciting.

I asked him to be my date for my cousin's wedding at the end of the month, and I was so happy when he said he would love to come. He drove down 3.5 hours just to spend the evening with me, and it was honestly one of the most magical nights of my life. My family and coworkers were all so impressed with his friendly and outgoing personality, and he even made a point to get out on the dance floor with all of my salon coworkers and me!

Not that he was any Patrick Swayze. But definitely Richard Gere a la Shall We Dance.

He was the perfect date, to say the least, and I knew I was totally smitten by the end of the night.

We continued talking every day after the wedding, and about one week ago, I traveled up north to visit Mr. FTL. I stayed with his family and had such a wonderful weekend. His parents, sister, and friends were all incredibly nice and welcoming towards me. I just felt like I really could be myself and fit in around all of them, and that's quite a special way to feel.

I left that weekend thinking, "Wow. Maybe my singleton days have finally come to a close! Are the wilderness years over at last?"

Eeeek. Unfortunately, it appears that I'll be roughing it out in the woods a while longer.

Last night, Mr. FTL and I were talking about planning an upcoming trip to Columbus when he informed he that he was totally busy the entire month of February...he wasn't free until the first weekend of March.

March!

And that's when I realized...maybe this all wasn't heading towards a relationship like I thought it had been.

"Oh, I see," I replied, feeling that awful sinking feeling in my stomach. "I guess I thought this was something it isn't. I feel so stupid."

"What's wrong?" he immediately responded.

I told him what was wrong. And he listened. Then, he told me how he had been doing a lot of thinking, and he didn't know if a relationship was even possible between us considering the nearly four hour distance and our busy schedules.

"If we can't even find a single weekend in a random month like February to work, how healthy of a relationship would that be? Only seeing each other once a month, if that?"

He then explained how sometimes the wrong timing and circumstances can trump compatibility and attraction.

I knew he was making valid points, but they were all entirely too reasonable and practical for me.

I'm a feeler, an English major...a girl who cries every time Jack proposes to Lucy inside the CTA tokens booth at the end of While You Were Sleeping. I've read Pride and Prejudice more times than I can count. I believe in feelings. I roll by my emotions.

"I feel how I feel when I feel it," as Lena Dunham would say.

So obviously his logical reasoning was essentially lost on me.

It was a hard realization that someone who I had come to like so much didn't even see me as worth a 3.5 hour drive.

Of course, I spent the remainder of my evening crying and wondering why I'm always so unlucky in love.

I kept picturing God up in the clouds, seated in an armchair and reading The New York Times as he suddenly took a quick intake of breath and declared, "Oh, no! It's almost Valentine's Day! Can't let Jenna actually get to enjoy the holiday of love with someone she cares about."

You know, because apparently I am doomed to spend every Valentine's Day alone with red wine and Edith Piaf.

Tonight, I will let myself "wallow" as Lorelei Gilmore would say, and I'll watch Bridget Jones's Diary and feel sorry for myself. I'll get into Rachel's stash of white chocolate, enjoy a cup of hot tea, and maybe even shed a few more tears.

The only thing I can count on in life.
(Mom- do not freak out. I am just being dramatic. No worries- I am hitting the tea kettle tonight, not the bottle)

But tomorrow, I'm putting back on my "Hopeless Romantic" beret (très chic!) and getting on with my life.

If my love life has taught me anything, it's that I am one resilient young woman.

Oh, and that I am going to have some fantastic material for all of those future novels of mine.

Today, my blog turned two.

Well.

With exactly 63 minutes left of the day, I happened to flip open my planner.

This is a reenactment. Also- I don't know why I shared this gross picture of myself. And yes- that is a photo of Hugh Jackman on my wall from December's Vogue.

"Happy 2nd Blog Birthday!"

That is what was written in pink marker on today's date. January 20th.

For the second year in a row, I basically forgot my child's birthday.

Pathetic.

Leggings Love- I think you are fantastic. You're given me a fun and comfortable place to write the silly events of my life, share entirely too many Photo Booth selfies, and make lifelong friends from near and far.

We've both grown up and changed a lot over these past two years.

I am looking forward to the one ahead!

And hopefully spending more time together. These 8-9 post months just aren't cutting it.

I love you, sweet little blog! Happy 2nd birthday!

Mom to the rescue!

This evening, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed with life.

I had worked later than usual, and when I arrived home around 7:30, one thing after another seemed to be going wrong.

The down coat I've been missing since we moved in June? Rachel and I finally remembered its location- buried beneath furniture and a Christmas tree in the basement storage room. As hard as I tried, I just couldn't get the coat out. Very unfortunate timing for my upcoming weekend trip to blustery Cleveland.

My face had broken out terribly, and I wanted to stick a paper bag over my head.

An evening writing project was looming over me, suggesting a late night.

Oh, and then Mother Nature decided to say bonjour!

Of course, I did what all mature and practical grown women do when times get tough. I called home.

Unfortunately for both of us, my poor dad answered the phone.

I began to ramble off my woes, my voice breaking as I neared the end, hysteria seeping through the phone line.

Even though my dad is a wonderful and caring father, he is still a man. And was totally freaked out by my overly emotional state.

"Just go do what you need to do then!" he said, being very unhelpful.

I hung up the phone. And cried. No- mewed. I mewed pathetically.

Seconds later, the phone rang. It was my mom.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her voice reassuring and calm.

I rattled off my list of problems once again.

And then the most miraculous thing happened. My mom rattled off a list of solutions.

Wonderful, real solutions.

And suddenly, all of my problems seemed manageable and...well...not such big deals after all.

I love you, Mom. Thank you for always calming me down and keeping me sane.

I have no idea what I'd do without you.

Kisses and Wine

I came across this quote yesterday while perusing (and daydreaming- seriously, how is it possible that there are so many obscenely cute items?) Etsy.

"We are all mortal until the first kiss and the second glass of wine."
Eduardo Galeano

You can buy this item here. I think I just might!

Mr. Galeano, I've never heard of you, but those are absolutely lovely words.

I hope that quote made you feel warm and happy.

The Will to My Grace

As I know I've mentioned numerous times before, Ben is my ex-boyfriend turned best friend.

We are truly a real life Will and Grace. Minus the engagement. But definitely including the months of not speaking following the "I'm gay" discussion.

via

There is no one I am closer to than Ben, and I don't think there is anyone I am more honest with.

Last Saturday, I called Ben to see if he was coming to my upcoming tea party (No, not like the political group...like a legit tea party where people are going to wear floppy hats and brunch).

"Sorry, but I'm going to be in Columbus," he replied.

"What? You're going to miss my tea party?" I said, growing irrationally upset. "You're my best friend! How can you not come to my tea party?"

"I'm sorry." I could just imagine him shrugging his shoulders apologetically. "But I really can't make it."

Taking the mature route, I angrily pressed the "End" button on my fancy Bluetooth screen and stewed in self-pity.

Ha! I thought. I didn't even tell him goodbye! 

We went without talking until he called late Sunday afternoon.

"Can I come over?" he asked.

"Umm...okay. Fine." I was still bitter. "Don't forget my season one of Girls."

After the two minute walk between our apartments, Ben showed up with a gorgeous tin of Teavana tea.

"Since I can't make it to your tea party, I bought you this," he smiled.

Seriously.

I have no idea what I did to deserve such a friend.

Thank you for always being there for me, Ben, and for putting up with all of my ridiculous moods.

You will always be the Will to my Grace!

Fun Target Finds

Yesterday, I had to make two returns at Target.

Whenever I return anything to Target, I suddenly feel like I am completely justified in perusing the store and finding items that are either less than or equal to the worth of the returned items.

It's practically like shopping for free.

Last evening, I found luck in the home-wares section.

Please, feast your eyes upon all of my lovely Valentine's Day finds!

Those plates and bowls? Could you ever eat out of those without a huge smile on your face?

And that tray!

Speechless.

Merci beaucoupe, Target. Je t'aime!

Predictions for the New Year

I know a lot of people are not big into New Year's resolutions.

But I am not one of those people.

I think the New Year is a wonderful time to recognize my faults, examine what needs to be changed in my life, and work toward improving my emotional and physical well-being.

I prefer to use the term "predictions" though rather than "goals" or "resolutions."

You know, because I am obviously going to achieve all of these things in the year 2013.

1. I will finish my novel.

2. I will lose the 30 pounds I previously lost (must think up fabulous reward when I reach my target weight).

3. I will read (and reread) every Jane Austen novel.

4. I will get a Harry Potter tattoo.

5. I will fall in love.

6. I will find the perfect shade of red lipstick.

7. I will write a fan letter to one of my favorite authors.

8. I will attend mass more often.

9. I will daydream less often.

10. I will let myself have lazy Sundays and not feel guilty about it.

What are you hoping to accomplish in this sparkling new year?

Meet Cami the Corolla!

On Sunday, I made yet another step forward into the bright and blinding light of adulthood.

I bought my first car.

I'll admit, it was a bit sad trading in the 2000 Toyota Camry that I had driven since I was sixteen. The Camry went through a lot with me. We traveled to and from high school tennis practices together. I lied to my parents and drove to Chicago with her. She locked me out a few times, and my dad had to come rescue me with a spare set of keys. We had a couple of scary moments when I blew one front tire (twice) driving too close to the curb.

We were pretty close after seven years together, you know?

Of course, most of that nostalgia dissipated once I got inside my 2013 Toyota Corolla. I was blown away by all of her neat features- Bluetooth, a touchscreen to control my music and phone calls, a ceiling that did not leak...!

I chose a nautical blue Corolla with a black interior.

And I named her Cami, in honor of the Camry.

My mom thinks this is dumb, and that Cami deserves a more special name unique to her drive and look.

But I think she definitely looks like a Cami and is thrilled to be named after the Camry.

I am so excited about my new car and am looking forward to the many, many miles we have ahead together!

And the other's gold

I can still remember the way we ended every Girl Scout meeting when I was a little girl.

We would all stand in a circle holding hands as we sang the "Make New Friends" song. Very warm and fuzzy stuff.

Now though, more than ever, the lyrics of that song seem oh so relevant to my life.

Last night, I was able to get dinner with a friend of mine from high school that I only get to see about once each year.

She is the kind of girl who hyperventilates at the thought of staying in one location for longer than a single year. She always has the wildest, most fantastic stories of her adventures to tell. She is also one of the oldest and truest friends I have.

Definitely fitting into the latter "and the other's gold" category.

Rose and I met during our freshman in high school. We were in the same French class (and would remain in the same French class all four years!) and quickly became friends.

Whenever the bossiest girl in our class, Morgan*, tried to...well...boss me around, Rose was always my first defender.

She is part of some of my favorite memories from the past ten years of my life. We had her mom drop us off at the movie premiere of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. We made Harry Potter t-shirts together with iron-on letters from Michael's (Rose's read, "I SPEAK PARSELTONGUE"). We narrated a "Barbie Fashion Show" in French class.

At dinner yesterday evening, Rachel, our friend, Megan, Rose, and I all caught up over incredible salads, gourmet pizzas, and salted caramel gelato.

Megan and Rose

Rose's ultimate quote of the night was, "Well. I did Vegas right. I almost married a Brit."

For real.

So here is to all of those lifelong friends who, no matter how much distance lies between you or how many months have gone by since you've seen one another, still feel like some of the closest and truest companions you could ask for.

*This is totally her real name.

At Last

I hope you read that title (either aloud or in your mind) just as Etta James would have sung it.

This evening, I was pulling up to my apartment after work just as the beautiful, big, brown, UPS truck came to a screeching halt beside me.

"Jenna?" the UPS driver called out.

Finally. Finally after seven months of renting, my neighborhood UPS driver knew my name! At last!

"Yes! That's me!" I shouted back excitedly. "Do you have a package for me?"

"I do!"

"Is it from Kate?" I was practically bouncing as I waiting impatiently for him to rummage for my correct package.

He inspected the label, "Says Kate Spade here."

"That's her!"

"If the shoe fits," he shrugged, handing me my package.

"How did you know? They are shoes! I ordered rain boots!"

The UPS driver feigned enthusiasm before waving goodbye and going on his way.

I didn't know if I was more excited about the fact that he knew my name or the arrival of my KS rain boots.

Either way, it was a wonderful way to begin my evening.

Alright clouds- time to let loose and give me some precipitation.

These boots were made for walking.

Eeeeek! Seriously. They're so posh, I can hardly stand it.

Ringing in 2013!

Happy New Year, bloggers!

I hope everyone had a fun and safe New Years Eve.

I spent mine at a friend and her fiancé's house. We drank champagne, ate delicious foods (observation: married couples make the best appetizers), and played an incredibly amusing game titled "salad bowl."

Thanks for the amaze photo, Meg!

Just before midnight, we walked over to the neighborhood square.

It was snowing heavily, and even though my feet were terribly cold in my purple glitter flats, the night felt magical.

At midnight, there was a "ball drop" followed by a gorgeous fireworks display.

Another incredibly photo by Meg! Note: We do not know that happy couple beside me.

We attempted to go to a few nearby bars, but the crowds were just too crazy to enjoy ourselves so we headed back to my friend's home.

Around 1AM, I called the cab driver we normally use and requested a pick-up.

"It will probably be thirty minutes, is that okay?" he responded.

"Of course! That's totally fine," I said, honestly expecting a longer waiting period.

2AM rolled around. Still no cabbie.

I dialed his number once more.

"I haven't forgotten about you. A situation came up, but you're next on my list. I promise I'll call once I get there," he explained.

What exactly was this "situation"? Perplexing indeed!

As we waited for our missing cab driver, we tried calling countless other numbers. All were busy.

When the clock hit 3AM, my friend (who was not even catching the same cab) decided to get serious with this cab driver.

"Listen. We've been waiting on you now for over two hours. We use your service all of the time. Can you give us an exact time that you'll be here?"

Her voice simultaneously sounded intensely sad yet purposeful. It was impressive.

But then, my dear friend said the words that would lose us our cab ride.

"You're so late...we shouldn't even pay you!"

Everyone's mouthes dropped open.

A few minutes later, our shady cab driver sent me a text message which read, "Sorry to tell you this, but I'm not picking you up anymore since your friend said you won't be paying."

Oops. Awkward.

Needless to say, my friend and I spent the night on the couch.

I'll be packing a sleeping bag next NYE. Or at least finding a more reliable cab driver! ;)