Well, that happened.

Pulled out the old puffy coat for the first time this season. As it's not my most figure flattering outerwear, I attempted to counterbalance its bulk with wool tights and a pair of heels that I wouldn't want to chuck out the window after walking 15 blocks to the office. (Long blocks; avenue blocks.) It is here that I should thank my true friend Jennifer for convincing me not to get the ankle-length down coat my cold weather-averse Mother suggested. I believe her exact words were, "Do you want to look like a sleeping bag?" Point made. I'm not totally convinced today's puffy/slim combo was successful as I was 1) Sweating like a whore in church (Thanks Dad for that gem) when I arrived at le office and 2) Still wanted to send my Sigerson Morrison booties out the window. But there's Bon Iver on my iTunes (can't deal with Spotify's commercials + connectivity) and leftover collards in my lunch bag. So, the [immediate] future is pretty bright.

Happy New Year y'all.

Spring in my city, my step

Sometimes, when I weather through something - a proverbial "storm," if you will - I remark (yeah, out loud), that I "made it through." Could be the night, day, cold, heat, lunch, conference call. . . whatever. The point being I came out on the other side. Finally. Saying it out loud is all that more affirming. Reassuring, even.

As March winds it's way out of my life (thankyouverymuch), I can resolutely say, "I made it through" the winter. And does it feel good to come out on the other side. The side of spring and new beginnings and the promise of pretty much everything.

Hailing from the South, I'm not sure I ever fully appreciated the change of seasons. To be honest, I'm not sure I ever experienced them. I have now. And I'm better for it. I've now weathered a winter - a couple of them actually. And I made it through. We all did, I suppose.

I started the winter - or ended the summer more accurately - with Florence's Dog Days Are Over. Let's say it more than got me through those harsh days. Now there's spring in my step (and my city) and my ears are tuned to The Black Keys' Everlasting Light as they promise, "The dark days are through." Are they ever.

xx

Paris, October 2010

Baby it's cold outside.

So I now know what 17 degrees feels like. Another discovery of note: Tights fit under leggings, which then fit under jeans. Maybe not the best look my J. Brand's have offered, but I'm warm. In the spirit of staying on the plus side of freezing, I'd like to send a huge thank you to my sister, who actually lugged an ushanka all the way back to the United States FROM RUSSIA for me. That thing, which is both impossibly glamorous and warm, has never worked so hard. It's winter's work is hardly over, and that's worth mentioning.

Now, off to visit my coffee man who has yet to forget me despite one week of Theraflu, apartment-made press pots and a morning coffee uptown. Nonplussed, he set my coffee with cream down on the counter with a smile. Life is good.