my beautiful (second) cousin yella got married!

hands down dream wedding.
(second) cousin sandra's flickr for more.

super duper summertime post!

 

(perspective for mornings spent cleaning out the fridge of all perishables thanks to a power outage from a freak hailstorm that cracked my windshield and broke my bedroom window in a quite comical set of events, setting the scene with: mattress shoved into bathroom, pad thai kitchen disaster, every towel in the house soaking wet, etc.)

instead, focus on:
my Memorial Day weekend, which was so perfectly summer:
with the sunburn to prove it.
staying at a gorgeous lake house (thanks William & fam!) (i'd been hearing about this lake house long enough to build it up to a place of legend).
near the Fin & Feather - the perfect name for an Oklahoma lake resort.
and Soda Steve's - the perfect name for a lake food stop.
porch views.
tequila porch views.
Cooler Ranch Doritos.
orange slices.
the way wonderbread-esque sandwiches elevate to a whole new level when eaten on a boat out on the water - best if flattened in your pocket, according to Walker.
just the pure joy of jumping off the side of a boat.
corn on the cob.
dogs: loulou & piper.
watching several employees of the local grocery store swarm Walker with their advice on which watermelon to choose.
plus, filing away the character descriptions of two teenage boys for some later novel.

my current summer read: The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach.
i may already be declaring it the favorite of the summer.

current summer listening: Drake, Gary Clark Jr., Wilco, and The Black Keys will be on heavy rotation.
plus, a few singles courtesy of the lake...
Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)
Take Me Home Tonight
A Real Hero

some summer movie action - mostly due to a recent movie trailer binge:
Beasts of the Southern Wild (wowza.)
Brave
To Rome With Love (i mean, Woody and Italy, eeee!)
Rock of Ages
The Dark Knight Rises
(...not to mention somehow, someway, someday seeing the Tree of Life.)

other things i'm into:
Kombucha Multi-Green: because it has this crazy saltine cracker aftertaste!
this poem by Sabrina Orah Mark.
trolling the internet for NBA sports commentary: Thunder v. Spurs is dominating my life right now.
weekend planning.

street beat: fur.

Tiny coffee please.

She could have killed the too-chipper barista commenting on her bare legs - "Honey, it's cold out." No duh.

This combination is the result of a much-too-late night spent trying to forget the "family" dinner just before, one complete with crystal stemware, spoonfuls of caviar, and a seat across from the Goth son of her father's latest divorcée.

Now wandering home against the much-too-early morning backdrop of a modern city's stone ruins.

Furr by Blitzen Trapper.

Photo from: The Sartorialist.

the end of an era.

The last Callahan kid (Casey! in a pretty pink dress, singing Bridge Over Troubled Water with the choir) graduated from Edmond Memorial High School last Saturday - boom.

summer's crossing.

beautiful weddings galore! this one pictured - with my sistah in town.
mint + succulents.
a Frieda postcard from my cousin, made even more special because it was sent from Mexico.


my boyfriend is hiking in Yosemite right now, followed by a trip to the giant redwoods. so i'm here seething with jealously and insisting everyone read The Wild Trees.


especially after last night's game, the Thunder just make me so happy!


recommended listening: B.B. King, How Blue Can You Get. because it includes the lyric: I bought you a ten dollar dinner, and you said, "Thanks for the snack!"

my thoughts on the summer:

"Pale pastels and Santa Fe hues feel very refreshing right now. We just want to dress like retired writers who live in Santa Fe — the woman who has been wearing her same Mexican chemise and French sandals for 30 years...."

(Vena Cava).

also on summer, i'm currently reading Summer Crossing by Truman Capote. and i couldn't have timed its' coming into my life more perfectly.

like cutlery in drawers.

I would vanish on the mainland, dry up in that crush of cars and strangers, of flesh hidden inside metallic colors, the salt white of the sky over the interstate highway, the strange pink-and-white apartment complexes where mainlanders lived like cutlery in drawers.
(Karen Russell, Swamplandia!).

hopes were wallflowers.

Hopes were wallflowers. Hopes hugged the perimeter of the dance floor in your brain, tugging at their party lace, all perfume and hems and doomed expectations. They fanned their dance cards, these guests that pressed against the walls of your heart. 
(Karen Russell, Swamplandia!).

street beat: twitter tween.

God, mother. Her eyes are rolling behind the tint of sunglasses.
So perfectly 16.
iPhone as appendage.
Black nail polish.
Embellished vest.
Toothpick figure.
Laptop.
Purse at crook of arm.
Illustrated shirt.
I hope you're reading The Great Gatsby in English class. That's such a good one. 
I hope learning about photosynthesis doesn't bore you too much. Because there will be a day when you actively seek out information on how the world works: "It's Science Friday on NPR, yesssss!"
I hope you have best friends named something like Jessica or Zoe or Becca or Amber. 
I hope driving around in your hand-me-down Honda listening to a painstakingly compiled mix-CD is literally everything and a bag of chips. 
As much as you use it, I hope you're keeping perspective on how very little social media contributes to or reflects upon a well-lived life. How sometimes it even makes you unhappy. Sometimes I forget that too. 
And when you take thousands and thousands of pictures at concerts or basketball games with your phone, it makes me old man depressed: at some point in your life I hope you had a bicycle, and a neighborhood gang, and a backyard, and a baseball mitt, and a coin or stamp collection, with summer nights spent catching fireflies in mason jars in your swimsuit without ever once thinking of Instagram-ing it.

For more unwelcome advice, see: Jon Hamm.

Photo from: The Sartorialist.