Hello, Thirties!

This summer is just flying by and so much has happened and so much has changed, I can't even find time to write...not even in my paper journal.

I spent a week in Chicago this summer, it is the farthest west I have ever been. While there my department chair endorsed my research topic for my dissertation. I am a year out from entering comps for my PhD...it's getting a little scary, I can't lie.

I started selling LuLaRoe clothing and that has been an amazing adventure. It has brought so many new people into my life and it brought back so many old friendships that died as we all were busy growing up. It feels good to see so many faces back in my life.

I turned 30 this summer too, but moments before I did, PHIL PROPOSED! I'm engaged and we're planning a November wedding for next year. AHH! I am so excited to be marrying the love of my life and planning the wedding that we both have always dreamed of. I really can't wait.

I'm actually really excited for this time in my life. I get to be a wife in this decade, and maybe a mom. I'll also hopefully get tenure and finish my PhD. And then begin all new dreams and journeys along with it. I started this blog when I was 23? 24? I spent a lot of time writing about finding love, but now I want to write about what you do once you've found it. 

There are many things this summer...

School is finally  over in 5 days. It should have been over weeks ago, but at least, we're down to days.

This was my worst year as a teacher. It was hard, there were tears and many times I rally fantasized about quitting and finding a job that had nothing to do with kids.

One of my students was murdered. I was assaulted by a kid that wasn't even mine.

Done. I am just done with this year.

And now it's summer where I am going to remodel my kitchen and it will be beautiful. The last of the appliances already came and I put up this back splash:

Once the new sink, faucet,counter and cabinets are all up, the entire place is going to look very different. The cabinets now are almost as old as I am and have been painted, red, white and then blue. At one time my kitchen was purple with red cabinets-- I still don't know what those people were thinking.

It will be modern with a touch of vintage, just like the rest of my house. We're also putting up a faux tin ceiling in the kitchen with a fleur de lis design. I'll be very sad when we out grow this house and have to move.

I'm teaching one college class this year and then I get to go to Chicago for my doctoral residency and talk about urban literacy and the visual arts for 5 days. I come home and...turn....30. This birthday has been haunting me all year. there are times where I still feel 16...I'm just not sure how 30 years have happened for me. So crazy!

The real nice part of this summer though? I'll have time even though I'm doing all of this. My class is only 5 weeks and though I am taking two PhD classes, those too will go quickly. In the mean time, I'll be kicking off my summer on June 23rd at about 11am when Phil said he will wake me up with a big glass of pina colada sangria.

Afterwards, you'll find me at the beach with this beauty:

Where the only worry I will have for about a week and a half will be house breaking our puppy.

What Is Found In Grief

There are many things that I have realized and come to except through different periods of my life while I was grieving. My last big bought with it came with the end of my time as a French teacher and coincidentally the end of a rather emotionally abusive relationship. I found art and literature again, and finally finished my masters as I got through it. I also met Phil.

I have written how hard and outright exhausting this year has been, it's just insanity really. My college class that I teach ends next week and upon hearing the news, Phil exclaimed, "oh thank God, I can't wait for this year to be over."

"Have I been then miserable to live with," I asked, half-jokingly.

"Yup, pretty much, but I do still love you," he said.

You can't blame someone who has had the craziest year teaching middle school on top of taking two PhD courses per term AND teaching one of her own English courses at night. There has been a lot of crying this year.

And then, last week tragedy really struck. A former student of mine who was one of my kids-- as teachers you do have students that become closer to you, your kids-- was shot in the head while she was out with her friends and died two days later. The morning of the news of her passing, teachers, including myself were balling their eyes out as we tried to get through the day and teach. It was awful. It was so beyond anything I ever prepared myself for when I became a teacher. Last year, her mother died and she was notified of her passing in my class. I felt completely helpless then, but now, I didn't even know what to say as some of my most challenging students sobbed and clung to me for dear life.

I somehow blindly got through the week and Phil and I got to spend the weekend together which is unheard of because we are on opposite schedules. We went out to lunch on the water and ran errands for the house, stopping at an adoption center for dogs. We were just looking for fun. We had talked about getting another dog because Molly really wants to play with someone and the cats have pretty much told her to f off, so we figured someday we'd be adding another dog. Turns out Saturday was that day. We walked in and saw all kinds of cute dogs, but there was one that the moment we had walked in, came right to the front of the cage and started to try to burrow his way out. He had no interest in anyone else but us and it was weird because even though the place was packed, no one else was even looking at him.

An hour later, he was sitting in my lap snoozing on the way home. We hadn't even gotten to PetSmart yet and Phil looked at me and goes, "Can we call him Behr, but B-E-H-R?"

"Only if we can call him Professor Behr," I add.

"That's perfect!!"

"It is, it's from Little Women-- Jo marries Professor Behr in the end."

"You're a literature nerd."

"Mhhhmm."

And so, Professor Behr, the bichon frise was born. The cats ignore him and so far Molly has been seething jealousy, but at the same time trying to play with him too. And so, this week taught me anything it's to surround yourself with what you love. Plant gardens, paint pictures, plan adventures, raise children and animals. Write and read books, teach classes and do it all with your partner if you are lucky enough to find them. Most importantly, don't let anyone dull your happiness because they're bitter or don't agree with what you've chosen for yourself. Love the life you want because you only get one. Professor Behr, our newest addition, will always be my reminder.

Book Review: Harvesting the Heart by Jodi Picoult

I have never read a Jodi Picoult book before. I saw My Sister's Keeper in theaters shortly after losing my Big sister to cancer in college. It destroyed me, so I pretty much never wanted to deal with anything Picoult ever again.Then, I had a lot of them donated to my classroom and since I like to read books before I give them out so I can talk to kids about them, I picked up Harvesting the Heart for fun over spring break.

This was Picoult's second novel and it told the story of a creative young woman who falls into love at an early age and finds herself a reluctant mother. Overall, it's very much a coming of age story, but it also delves into women's issues like abortion and young motherhood. I liked how the story flipped between Paige's and Nicholas's perspectives to show the all-around version of the same story.

It was a relatively quick read that I finished it in two days while I was on vacation. I appreciated it for encompassing so much in only 460 pages. From Paige's turmoil in her first love relationship, her subsequent abortion and the story of unyielding love she found with her heart surgeon husband and their son. You saw this character grow up as the novel progressed and in it heal not only herself, her relationship with her mother, but also her father and her parent's own relationship with each other.

The novel was written in 1993, so it was also nice to read a more modern book without all of the complications of cell phones and facebook.

Final score: 4/5 stars
Book Information: Harvesting the Heart by Jodi Picoult with ISBN 0140230270 was originally published by Penguin Books on April 1, 1995.

You know you're old when...

You begin to look forward to summer for the simple reason that it means you can breathe.

I can't say that 2016 has been a bad year, but it's been a hard year. Every several years as a teacher, you get a year where you think it can't get anymore bat-shit crazy than it already is, but it does. Those are the worst years. This year is one of those.

I had already told Phil before Christmas that this summer I was not working full-time. I was not going to run a summer camp. I was not going to wait tables. I was just not.

And the good news is that I'm not. I'm teaching one college class and working on my dissertation for my next residency.

This is, end-of-year-teacher-tired.

It's still going to be a lot, but it won't be the insanity that was this year. I am hopeful that next year will be easier and won't have the personal stuff with it all too.

My grandmother is pretty sick and my cat, Jack Nicholson, was just diagnosed with diabetes and a heart murmur. His heart is actually the size of my fist. I've only had him for a year and he had spent much of his life being a NYC tom cat. Scary when I think that when I got him, he had a clean bill of health other than a cold that antibiotics quickly took away. Now, for the rest of his little cat life I will have to give him insulin shots. We have the consult with the vet specialist on Friday and I am not looking forward to this at all. I can get shots, but giving them skeeves me out. Probably one of the big reasons that after Rutgers, I went on for teaching instead of nursing.

 

The guys. Jack & Milo

I think the most unnerving of everything with Jack Nicholson is that when I look at photos of him from before, he's a big, meaty lynx point and now he's a patchy haired skeleton that sits on my feet purring and lays on the floor licking his butt and farting into his own face. There was a time where he was a lot more...err..regal than that.

If you'd like to donate to help with Jack Nicholson's ever-growing vet bill-- I set up a go fund me...here.

To end on a happy note...guys, look at my beautiful bathroom:

 

A Year and 2 Months Later...

I am officially a college professor! It was really shocking to me. I had gotten a call over the holidays from one college that I had applied to. I was very excited, it seemed like it was at last going to happen. On top of that, it was literally 10 minutes from our house so it would be an easy commute. The professor that called me told me to get in touch with the dean and I'd know more then.

I waited a day and emailed her, expressing my excitement. Her response? She'd be reviewing resumes that week and would get back to me. I emailed her to thank her for the response and then...never heard from her again.

I was devastated. 

Fast forward to two weeks ago, after I had a pretty crappy night of feeling uncertain about my life and frustrated over my stalled bathroom wherein I wrote this blog. I went to bed that night pretty much shouting at God about how tired I was of fighting for things and why can't I just ever get something like being the college professor that I always wanted to be without having to constantly burn myself out in the process. It was like a switch went off after I was done shouting at him in my head, and I just felt this overwhelming sense of peace and relief and it was almost like someone was whispering to me, "You're going to get it. Your life is going to be changing."

The next morning, I was sitting at my desk during my prep checking e-mails when another college that I had applied to countless times beginning a month before my actual master's degree was even conferred emailed me asking me if I could come in to interview for a position beginning this month, but that this email wasn't a promise of anything, they just wanted to talk to me. I emailed her right back and by the following morning I had an interview set for after school.

I was incredibly nervous.

It was actually two interviews. One with the person who sets up classes and another with the department chair. At first I felt for sure, it was not going well, but then as she started asking me questions about my wide-range of teaching experiences and we got to talking about them, the conversation changed in a blink and she was showing me my textbooks and introducing me to the dean.

I was probably holding my breath the entire time.

And I still didn't believe this was even reality until last week when all of my HR paperwork and transcripts were in so that I could get my ID and parking permit.

The other strange encounter? Getting the ID. I had to wait in line and a student approached me as I waited and asked me if I knew if we needed out spring schedules to get our spring semester IDs...I laughed on the inside, but before I could even say anything, the ID person told her, "he'd be with her in a minute, he had to help the professor first." It was surreal.

And yes, the ID picture is awful. I look like a warn out man.

But it's mine and my class starts next week. New nervousness.

And also? My bathroom is done. Thanks to plumbing help from my dad and an entire Saturday that I lost to cutting the tiles for it:

Home Improvement with Brownies

I did my taxes last night.
And wrote my paper.
And began to tile my bathroom because I'm pissed off that I haven't been able to shower in my own house since October and from what it all sounded like, that was just going to go on indefinitely. Never underestimate the power of a motivated woman especially when she's sick and tired of waiting on men. For someone who has never done it before, I think I did pretty well:

And then I made cheesecake brownies and stayed up too late watching Californication. 

And then, all I thought about was how amazing it would be if I could teach college classes and write full-time. 

The Dream.

Our First House: Lace, Vintage Furniture and Many Books

I haven't been reviewing many books or reading anything outside of my PhD research and I haven't written outside of January Rain. I've also been really busy working on our fixer upper. It's starting to look is much more like our home instead of the poop brown, drunkenly stripped house that we saw last spring. Hopefully I'll be finding more time to blog, but in the mean time, here's what I've been busy doing...

 Downstairs Bathroom:

Before:

After:

Guest Room: 

Before:

After:

 Hallway:

Unfortunately I don't have a before, but picture a lot of poo brown paint and fun-tack on every door.

Kitchen:

Before:

After:

Bathroom:

Before:

After:

The floor took forever, and we're still working on parts of it. I don't know why they put press and stick tiles over real tiles that were in really good shape. They also slapped a bath surround over a window, I'm excited for next weekend because the tiling will be done and I will have a finished, beautiful bathroom. Pictures to follow. 

Living Room:

Before:

After:

Our 2nd Anniversary & the Power of the Universe

I had this dream the other night about Bad Love. Up until that point, I couldn't even tell you the last time I had thought about him let alone had a dream about him. It was very strange. We met at what I think was a cafe and he sat in front of me and told me how he wanted to make it work out. All I kept saying was, "what about Phil?" He eventually starts getting frustrated with this answer and stops talking. It's one of those heavy, awkward silences that's almost painful. I get his attention again and I go, "You know what? I don't need you anymore."

And just like that, he got up and left. Then, I woke up.

"Been around the world so many times,I'm of the air, I'm of the sky. I wonder what my feet need the ground for, no one sing lullabies no more."

Fast forward to last night when my friend Catie and I were working on editing my latest manuscript because I promised myself that this was the year I was going to publish as much as I could. It's another manuscript that I had written and worked on and off on for several years...I would just always get nervous having people read my stuff. Which is really stupid when I think about how much of my stuff is out there for people to read. Anyway, this leads to discussion of Bad Love and the dream I had.

And then...it happened. When Bad Love and I were dating, he drew a picture of the Eiffel Tower for me. I so loved it. It was beautiful and it was my favorite place-- PARIS! It was the one thing I kept from that relationship over the years. It lived in a book case and it matched two more drawings I had acquired from a thrift store of the Arc de Triomphe and Sacre Coeur. Phil came into the room holding the broken frame and apologizing that it was the strangest thing, it just toppled out of and off the bookcase, breaking into four different pieces. Every other picture that's in there is still there, including the one that was in front of the drawing. Phil also had no idea what I was talking about to Catie at that moment because we were facebook messaging.

How creepy is that? The universe is very clearly wrapping up a brief chapter of my life that I turned into an extremely long chapter by using Bad Love as an excuse to date tool bag wannabe band boys.

Today also marks the two year anniversary of when Phil and I sat in an Applebee's drinking and eating hamburgers and playing never have I ever with a napkin. We were "official" by the end of that date and I think that was really only our 3rd or 4th date overall. We pretty much met and that was it, the rest were just formalities. Two years later, having backpacked across Europe together, gone to Disney World, adopted a dog and bought a house-- I can say that we have definitely been busy :0).

We spent the day today shoveling out from the monster blizzard we had and recuperating. I actually took a nap today that how run down and tired I feel with all that's going on. I'm thankful to have a snow day tomorrow and I'm also thankful that I got to be snowed in on my anniversary with the man I love, our dopey dog and our silly cats. It was definitely one of those super awesome weekends where you didn't have much of anything to do and you just got to be with your person.

Getting to watch Molly almost somersault backwards because she got stuck in a snow drift on our deck was also pretty priceless.  

Coming January 22, 2016

In these last ten years in Boston, Lorelei Winston has achieved everything she ever wanted, and has finally left the past behind. With a fabulous apartment, a well-known fiancé, and a successful art career, the last thing on her mind is a return to her hometown. Then comes the phone call that changes everything. Lorelei's childhood friend, Cole, has killed himself, and his family asks her to return for his funeral. As Lorelei makes her way to New Jersey, Cole begins to appear to her, describing the last decade of his life. Is it all in her mind? Or is it something supernatural-- and perhaps even sinister?

 

The reason why I haven't been posting and why I still owe Disney World an entire post, is this. It comes out in two weeks. I can't tell you how I have wrote, re-wrote, questioned...all of it...so much. The end result may be a little dramatic and my main lady really does go through a lot, but I think it will be appreciated for the chick litty, dark romance that it is. 

 

That said, any book blogs want a review copy? E-mail me if you'd like a copy to review: katherine [at] katherinekb [dot] com  .

A Little Disney Magic for Christmas

We just got back from Disney World. It was Phil's second time going and it was my first. It was worth the nearly 30 year wait for me to go. I rode a lot of rides, including my first ever upside down roller coaster. I'm getting ready to leave for my family's so we can have this delicious Slovak dinner. I'll post in the next few days over at A Hart Full of Love with photos and stories. 

Merry Christmas Eve!

My Life is Changing...As I Write It

When I think about how much my life has changed since I started this blog it really blows my mind.

But when I realize how so much of my life came together over the past two years, I am even more blown away. And for the first time in a long time, I can see why I had to go through and do certain things because each step lead me to another and then another, before I was in the place that I was always supposed to be in.

Now, here I am, nearly 30 years old, teaching, writing, finishing a PhD, putting together my first house and talking, seriously, about getting engaged to my boyfriend of the past two years.

And even more on the surprising side of my life, I have been researching what it takes to become a foster parent in the state of NJ. I teach in an urban, high poverty middle school. By the time I get these kids, it's already too late for some of them. And that's too many kids. Your teenage years should be about drama, and friends and dreaming about how fabulous your life is going to be once you graduate high school. It shouldn't be about worrying about going home because someone is going to be drunk and abusive, or fearful because that walk home isn't the safest, or worrying about once you get home how hungry you're going to be because you only get to eat when you're in school and getting free breakfast and lunch.

And kids should angst, they should angst over it all. But they shouldn't be so angry that they want to shut out the world. Shut out themselves and just stop where they are at the age of 13.

So, while I know my home would not be a good fit for an older child who has seen all of this and is going through it, I do know that we could be a home for a younger child who needs to be shown what love and stability is.

I see Phil with our dog, I mean it's ridiculous. She sleeps in our room because the cats like to have free roam at night. I tell her to go to her bed and she does. She will never try to sneak in next to me unless I call her. However, Phil spends many sleepless nights with her, sneaking onto his side of the bed, having to be next to him. Then last night, I was half asleep in bed and the dog was on her's. I hear Phil get up and go over to her. He gets her off her bed, and starts fluffing it for her and talking to her like a baby as he rearranges it all for her and then lets her go back on it. He tells her, that she has to be comfortable.

That's when I fall in love with him even more and once again I'm reminded of the kind of dad that he's going to be.

It set me up for a really nice day today, even if my students are insane because Christmas break is only 12 days away....

I'm Tired Today, but Thankful

It's Friday. And the kids are crazy. The exhaustion is finally starting to set in. I spend much of September running myself ragged trying to get my classroom together and my kids in line. It's usually around this point every year that routines get established and then I realized just how tired I am.

I don't think going on for my PhD this year is helping at all, either. I've begun my dissertation and have settled on sticking to my desire to research the need for creativity in urban education as opposed to the RTI, climate and culture and all that other hot words that my adviser is trying to push all of us towards. I would be so bored writing about any of that because I feel as a teacher in an urban school, that's all I ever do.

August 2014: Somewhere in Europe, clearly tired yet goofy.

I'm attending my first residency at the end of the month which is really exciting. This also mean Phil will have to take care of our dog and cats for four days. This is also  the first time in the two years that we've been together that I'll be away for that long. Phil told me he'll be sure to throw a house party. I imagine a more realistic night of him playing video games until the sun comes out.

It's funny when I realize how much my life has changed over the past three years. I no longer stress out about crappy dates with crappy guys. I own my own house and no longer have to feel trapped in the attic. And, I'm pursuing my dreams while getting to travel while getting to share this with a man that I was always supposed to be with.

I'm just feeling pretty tired, but overall, pretty thankful today too.

Here's Why I Don't Care About Caitlyn Jenner

When Caitlyn Jenner announced herself to the world, I thought it was great. Here was a fellow human being on this planet that was vastly unhappy and uncomfortable with himself and so he found courage within him to go through a lengthy and painful process to become the image that he wanted: Caitlyn. I thought it was also great that we have reached the point where a transgender woman was on the cover of Vanity Fair...though i do think Laverne Cox did it way better on the cover of TIME last year.

However, as the weeks went on and all we saw was Caitlyn and her overtly over done in the only way that someone tied to the Kardashians could do, it became a bit ill to watch. I often wonder how much of a pawn she has become in the Kardashian fame game and I wonder how okay Caitlyn herself is with all the fanfare.

TIME cover (google images)

It also got me to think about how ugly people became over her transformation and towards one another. I think there's two sides to our society, the overly conservative and the overly liberal. Neither side is respectful towards the other and each always wants to change the other's viewpoint....but the thing is? That's never going to happen.

A conservative, religious person is never going to accept Caitlyn Jenner, same-sex marriage, legalized pot, etc. And the thing that everyone forgets is, that's okay. That is how that person feels and what they believe, so what right does anyone have to tell them they are wrong, stupid, misinformed, etc.? That's how they feel, but feelings aren't fact. And as long as that person isn't being a biggot and a jerk towards a lifestyle that they don't condone, then who cares? Let them live their life as you live your's....your life with your own thoughts and feelings. And for those who are overtly religious, I think you need to remember that all God ever asked us to do, was to love one another and let him do the judging-- it's not our place or our burdon....let it go.

It's also totally okay that a nonreligious liberal will fight for and compliment Caitlyn Jenner, same-sex marriage, legalized pot, etc. And as long as they also honor other people's thoughts and feelings that might not align with their own, might even straight up conflict with what they believe, then their viewpoint is okay too. What's difficult about being overly liberal is that when you are,you become so quick to stamp on and demean someone who is religious and/or conservative, label them as simple and well religious so what do they know? Some of the most educated and even minded people I know are extremely religious and I might not always agree with them, but I do respect their thoughts and feelings and would never get on the bandwagon where I would attempt to take away their thoughts and feelings because it didn't mesh with what mine were. If you're going to fight for all of the hot topics in the news, you can't trample theirs in the process or you're just turning around and doing the same thing to them that you are upset that they did to you. Seems counterproductive.

I believe it was Voltaire who famously said, "I do not agree with what you have to say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it." We, as a society, need to get to a point where we can coexist and support one another. We need to stop labeling everyone and everything, but instead just accept the fact that we are all different, fighting our own battles and living our own paths.

And that's okay.

Maybe we should start focusing viewing each other as allies, as a means for support as we live and grow into who we are supposed to be-- whatever the image, beliefs or lifestyles we choose are.

Gay, straight, bi, transgender, pan-sexual, poly-amorous, a-sexual...in the end it really doesn't matter because in the end? Even kings are made of clay.

Every Girl & Her 3 Big Loves

There's this theory that every woman has three big loves of her life. This theory was largely perpetuated by one of my all time favorite shows, Sex and the City, wherein Charlotte inadvertently insults Carrie by saying every woman gets three. Carrie then takes it the wrong way when she realizes that that would mean she was done and at the time single.

I was reminded of that episode today. For some reason, perhaps it's the change of the seasons or all the change that's happening in my life right now, but today, two people closest to me where bringing up the big loves of my life. Note: This means I've had my big three (maybe three and a half).

And at almost 30, about to move in with my longterm boyfriend into the house we just bought, I am okay with that. However, it did get me thinking and it reminded me how each woman in my life had picked a different love for me to wind up with.

Christmas 2014.

There was my high school into college sweetheart who was my first everything. We drifted apart our senior year of college for a variety of reasons, but I think the big one was that he is very happy living a life in the town that he grew up in and I have always had my sights set on bigger things. That year, I had lived abroad for the first time and my wanderlust thirst was only beginning. We're still friends and talk on occasion. Most importantly, we're both happy too. My dad always thought that this love would be the one I married.

Then came the big one, my first relationship after my high school sweetheart. I was just out of college and trying to figure myself out. I hadn't found a job yet. He was four years older and the exact opposite of my ex-boyfriend. He knew how to woo a girl-- flowers, phone calls until all hours of the night, cute little things...it didn't take long for me to fall hard. And then, for it to all fall apart rather quickly. We were young. He still had a lot of jerky boy crap to go through and he had to live out his college days. It was devastating though and it hurt me for a long time. This love plunged me into moving around, taking big risks, dating really stupid guys and just not caring. Years later, we would try to be friends but somewhere in him saying something stupid to me on Facebook and then asking me for advice about a girl he was dating....it just didn't last long. Before it got to that point though, my mom thought that this was the love that I would marry.

Now here's the half. And no, no one thought I would marry this one. This was the broken guy, the emotionally unavailable guy that liked having me around, but God forbid he ever commit and seriously, how dare I even think about dating other men. Being with him was like a drug and it became a really bad addiction. The drama and the constant up and down with him was at times exhilarating especially when there were times where I felt like I "won." Won what, I am not sure, but at the time if something went my way or filled a want, then I had won and it made me want to keep going. When he did finally half-ass commit, it was short lived. I had a date set that I was going to dump him, he beat me to it though and for some reason that hurt more than anything else he had done. Later on, we tried the friendship thing. Also, short lived. I call this my half because looking back now, I think I was more addicted to the chase of it than I was in love with this person. He was pretty crappy to me...a lot...but it was really like a drug. One that I was happy to finally have kicked and after him? Well, I called every guy out on their bs the moment I found it in dating. No one thought this was the love I would marry, but this was the love that changed me and made me harder to get.

Which leads me to Phil, my last love. The kind of love that wrote me a poem on our third date, and came with me on my grand European backpacking tour, who brings me diet soda and rubs my feet (with lotion) and tucks me int bed at night. The kind of love that washes my hair and brings me flowers because it's Thursday and he wanted to. The kind of love that makes up the worst songs and sings them to me when we cuddle. The kind of love that I can see being the father of my children and growing old with him. The kind of love that lets me be myself, even if that means I make ASMR videos on school vacations just for fun. The kind of love that I know I'll marry. 

Moving Forward

I started this blog years ago and at first it started as a photo project that didn't really work and then it became my own where I wrote about my first real "adult" heartbreak and moving on from it. Then, after dating all kinds of idiots, I wrote about finally finding a non-idiot who really was the biggest idiot of them all.

And then, I sort of just stopped writing.

I got busy with other things-- with teaching and traveling, mainly backpacking through Europe (with the man I eventually met), and finding myself in a good, loving relationship and then before I knew it, with moving out completely on my own with no room mates or college lifestyle to fall back on.

And then, I finished my masters and begun the steps towards a PhD.

....And then, I bought a house.

However, most importantly, I think I'm finally learning the importance of just breathing and enjoying something. I've worked really hard to get to this point and I have done it on my own and unlike some women my age, I have done this without the help of a husband or live-in boyfriend.

I've gotten to the point of having what I wanted and I sort of noticed the enormity of that feeling as I was packing up my kitchen for the move to my house. I took off all of the magnets that Phil and I collected throughout Europe, along with the ones I picked up on my own travels including a couple magnets I bought on a class trip with my 8th graders last year and one I got at the local museum in the city that I teach in.

I was a little sad as I looked them over before I packed them and realized how exciting each of those moments were that inspired a magnet purchase and now they're all over. And at times, I don't know if I fully appreciated them as I lived them or maybe that's just because I'm looking back now.

It sort of made me realize now that as this year winds down, there are things that I want to do next year to make me enjoy everything that I have now more. I want to blog more and read for fun more. I know that my PhD classes are going to take up most of my time, but I would like to make time for things I like do like blogging and reading. I really would like to finally finish the book I started for my thesis or the second year of Miss Burton's Class. It's just hard and for the first time in many years, I have found manuscript writing to be beyond difficult. Maybe that can be next year's plan or something soon....

Who knows.

Looking for travel?

Then, you should check out my other blog "A Hart Full of Love" for a complete review of my month in Europe! 

Book Review: The Botticelli Secret by Marina Fiorato

Steeped in the turmoil of the non-unified Italy of the 1400's, Marina Fiorato skillfully weaves a detailed and evasive mystery around one of Botticelli's more famous paintings, Primavera or Allegory of Spring. The painting is packed with meaning alone, but Fiorato takes the painting to an entirely new level in her book, The Botticelli Secret.

Painted in 1482, the Primavera was created by Italian Renaissance artist Sandro Botticelli. He was of the Florentine school and worked during the Early Renaissance or Qauttrocento. It is suggested that the allegory had been petitioned by the Medici family.

The work is largely accepted as an allegory of springtime; however, other themes and meanings have been explored, including the idea that the painting illustrates the ideal of Neoplatonic love. For Fiorato, the painting serves as the basis for her art history mystery in her novel.

Fiorato opens her novel with the introduction of her heroine- common whore by the name of Luciana Vetra. She is described as a classical beauty, with long flowing ringlets and a sharp tongue from the four years that she spent on the streets of Florence. She is aptly named for how she arrived in Florence. Her origins for much of the novel are unknown, but from the beginning Luciana speaks of her uncommon arrival in the city- as a baby washed-up on the shores of the city in a glass bottle.

The reader is quickly drawn to her, despite her abrasiveness and crassness that are abundant in the earlier part of the novel, but softens as she finds herself and finds love during the course of the story. Her flaws make Luciana realistic and easy to relate to, despite the over-the-top mystery and life that she eventually gets swept up in to.

Fiorato's story of Luciana, Primavera and the mystery that engulfs everything is skillfully rendered and so lush that the reader easily gets immersed in the world of what Italy was like during the early part of the Renaissance. Fiorato leaves nothing to the imagination and stays away from romanticizing the period, leaving the reader with a raw and detailed depiction of what life was like during the time that Botticelli lived and worked.

The Botticell Secret by Marina Fiorato was originally published in April of 2010. It is available for purchase through St. Martin's Griffin, New York with ISBN 978-0-312-60636-7.

Book Review: Sunflowers by Sheramy Bundrick

Art historian and professor, Sheramy Bundrick shines in her debut novel about the final years of Dutch painter, Vincent Van Gogh.

There is nothing easy about writing historical fiction. Once a writer adds art into the mix, the project becomes something entirely different as many artists, especially those like Vincent Van Gogh are not so easily defined. Furthermore, having the ability to blend factual art historical information with the fiction a writer creates, is difficult and can often produce novels that are more of a creation as opposed to a well-researched, factual backdrop with a fictional story also added for entertainment.

This, however, is not the case with Sheramy Bundrick's Sunflowers. As an art historian and professor, Bundrick brings to the table a strong set of skills and research that are more than evident in her fictional retelling of the final two years of Dutch painter Vincent Van Gogh's troubled life. She recounts with some liberty, the time that the struggling artist spent with a young woman named Rachel – the very same lady that would be presented with a fragment of his ear.

In reality, there is nearly nothing that has survived in history about the real Rachel, other then a document that lists her name, address, occupation and that she was the woman Van Gogh asked for at the brothel to present her with a piece of his ear. Other artists such as Bernard and Gauguin mention Rachel in their writings and letters only in passing, referring to her as the "cafe girl" or "a wretched girl" respectively.

Irregardless of the reality of the factual, historical relationship between Van Gogh and Rachel, Bundrick writes her story having imagined what it might have been like had there been a relationship between the two people while incorporating factual information regarding the time period and Van Gogh's work.

Moreover, Bundrick creates this mixture of fantasy and art historical fact seamlessly. She captivates her readers from the very first page and does not let them go until they reach the inevitable end of both the novel and of Vincent Van Gogh. Her intricate descriptions make her readers feel as though they are part of the dingy cafe where Vincent and Rachel meet to talk, part of the garden where he draws her and even part of the city and busyness of the city of Arles as a whole.

Overall, Sheramy Bundrick's work is captured best through Susan Vreeland, author of Life Studies, " [Bundrick] lays bare in rich, compelling scenes the mystery of the turbulent and misunderstood final two years in Van Gogh's life." Sunflowers is a gem of a first novel and makes for an interesting glimpse into the mental decline of one of the world's most famous artists.

Sunflowers – A Novel of Vincent Van Gogh by Sheramy Bundrick is available for purchase through Avon with ISBN 0061765279.

Book Review: The Sidewalk Artist by Gina Buonaguro and Janice Kirk

When a struggling New York writer escapes to Paris, she finds herself falling for a charming yet secretive sidewalk artist.

A blocked writer, unhappy with her life and relationship takes off for a Parisian vacation. It is there that Tulia Rose encounters beautiful chalk drawings of some of Raphael's most beautiful and famous creations of cherubs and light. The chalk drawings' artist Raffaello, intrigues Tulia. She quickly finds herself asking if she loves him? Or is he a stalker? Or could he even be the reincarnation of the Renaissance artist Raphael?

Tulia's story and eventual love-affair takes her across Europe to lush settings that are both dreamy and romantic. Readers are indulged in sensual Paris, dream-like Tuscany and beautiful Venice as Tulia navigates herself through her budding affair and eventual break-up with her New York boyfriend, Ethan.

The settings are beautifully described and detailed by an author with a keen eye for the intricacies that the romance of Europe offers its visitors. Buonaguro writes, "What truly moves Tulia is not the Eiffel Tower or Notre Dame Cathedral or any of the wonderful sights. It is the little things.

A windowsill with a pot of geraniums and a glimpse of lace curtain, the way the sun glances off a puddle, the echo of her heels as she walks down a narrow cobblestone street, the taste of coffee at an outdoor cafe, the sound of children calling out to each other in French," making it easy for the reader to fall in love with Paris even if they haven't had a chance to make it there yet.

The downfall of The Sidewalk Artist, in my opinion was Raffaello - Buonaguro's hero. Instead of being the romantic artist that was meant to sweep readers off their feet as they read, I found Raffaello to be more creepy than to be someone with whom I would want to disappear into the European countryside with. I kept waiting for a plot twist wherein the entire story line became something sinister and it was with that thought that kept me from completely falling in love with the story though I did find the idea of the parallel plot and romance to be creative and intriguing.

The Sidewalk Artist by Gina Buonaguro and Janice Kirk is available for purchase through St. Martin's Griffin with ISBN 031237805X. It was released on April 1, 2008.