if you really want to get lost, then follow me

two years.

i'm sitting in my livingroom with my feet stretched out in front of me. i've spent the last four days in pretty much the same way, marathoning seasons of House and drinking orange juice and coughing up a storm. i contracted the spring plague that is currently ravaging the peninsula, but you just can't say no to a kiss from a one year old.

i've done so much thinking in the past while. about myself; about my goals and dreams and aspirations; about my past. i started writing this journal because it was something cool, something that would leave an impression to be seen, even if just by random internet strangers. i think over time it morphed into something more, though, and became a collection of moments and insights that held more truth than i was willing to admit.

i'm constantly saying that i strive to find joy in small things, and humility in the every day, and grace in regular actions. i've found more memories of these in re-reading things herein than i thought i would.

get ready, random internet strangers: seven thirty, eight o'clock. i think it's time we became reacquainted with one another.

you know, as soon as i retrieve my lung capacity and stop oogling hugh laurie.