The Concept of Shame, and what I intend to do about it

Photo by the incomparable Ella Sophie Photo

The boss lady once told me a story about a childhood whim of hers. When someone told her about the virtues of modesty, she would chime back “Modesty-podesty!” while lifting her dress up over her head to show how little she cared about the lesson.

Despite having what some might call a less than “typical” American upbringing with 80+ cousins spanning multiple countries and multiple languages, I would say that I was taught similar lessons about being modest, and more intensely about the concept of shame. In Farsi, the word sharm (شرم) was whipped out at every indiscretion. Whether it be a toddler picking their nose, showing their bellies in public, or just generally doing something that was considered inappropriate it was all quickly followed with “Sharm as!”, “That’s shameful!” Publicly shaming someone into behaving in a socially acceptable way was the norm, a verbal hand smack. As an adult with a bit more life experience and introspection, I often wonder about this kind of thinking, and what it instills in a person from a young age.

Shame itself is learned state of being, if you can call it that. No one comes into the world feeling ashamed of their bodies and its functions until someone gives them that feeling–it’s not something we’re born capable of feeling until it’s presented to us through religion, culture, or our general surroundings.

I’ve personally struggled with this feeling for a long time; shame over who I am, how I look, my actions, things that I’ve experienced, the list goes on. Feeling fundamentally out of place in a world that’s supposed to be your own can do that to you. Growing up feeling like all elbows, knees, and braces– being generally uncomfortable in my own skin was never easy. To this day, I find myself worrying that if people are looking at me, it must be for the wrong reasons. Is there something in my teeth? Something on my face? Is my shirt too tight or my skirt too short? I never had the resilience to shrug things off because things like that always implied that I had done something wrong, something shameful. It was never the other person’s fault for being crass or rude for staring. I think the appropriate term here would now be “victim-blaming,” which I’ve also experienced. There’s nothing worse than gathering the courage to share past trauma and being met with judgement. Even as an adult, those feelings linger and reappear. Even though it’s from a place of their own insecurity, fear, or lack of compassion, people still yell “Shame!” if you listen closely enough.

So…how does one begin to heal from the shame? Poet Olivia Gatwood has a biting series of poems that she’s created with the sole purpose of counteracting these feelings of shame. One of her more famous poems Ode to my Bitch Face, was my first real introduction to spoken word poetry, but the dialogue she delivers prior to her poem is what sticks with me the most.

“We think we’re supposed to feel [shame], we’re told we’re supposed to feel it, about the way that we live and act and walk and speak and dress and are. And then we feel it because someone told us to, it’s not an organic feeling, really.”
Unapologetically writing and sharing my experiences like this without expecting validation is something I’m working on. If anything good is to come out of all this, it’s the fact that feeling shame has made me a more compassionate human being. Sadly enough, I’ve learned that shame can create an unspoken bond between people. Over the years, I’ve connected with so many women who have experienced and survived abusive relationships and assault, as I have. As strong, intelligent women, sometimes the worst kind of shame you can feel is self-imposed. It’s the kind of shame you experience when you sell yourself short, when you protect people you know you shouldn’t by simply staying silent.The world would be so much better if people weren’t so afraid of each other, or afraid of judgment all the time. Shame should never be a necessity. If you consistently expect everyone and everything to be at a teflon-covered level of perfection and propriety, you’re either in serious denial or missing out on a lot of really beautiful, human things in life. None of us are perfect. Life is guaranteed to be messy no matter how uncomplicated and orderly you try to make it. So, I’m slowly unlearning the feeling of shame. I hope some of you will join me.
EVA♥
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Top Shelf

I would like to introduce everyone on my corner of the internet to my friend, Tucker.

My friends Emily, Tucker, & their son Atlas

Tucker is not shy in saying what he feels, which I find very refreshing. He is one half of a duo I have known quite a long time. I first met Tucker and his significant other, Emily, when she moved in to our college home rather unexpectedly. I had spent days alone in the house unpacking and was busy nursing a bowl of cereal in my pajamas when an entire, bright-eyed family walked into the living room. I sat there stunned, staring across the way at an awkwardly small tv screen, accutely aware of my bed head and how deranged I probably looked to my new housemate’s family. Fast forward about 10 years and all of us still keep in touch.

He often shares the most concise, no-nonsense pieces of advice he gleaned from his days in the military. Gems like: “Giving a shit is a choice.”

But Tucker holds the record for perhaps the nicest thing a guy friend has ever said to me when I was feeling down:

“Eva: you are a top shelf bottle of wine. Why are you putting yourself on the bottom shelf?”

Of course, there were some choice words after that that he used to elaborate (“All the douchebags are reaching for you on the bottom shelf! C’mon, dude!”), but I’m sure you get the gist of it. This is something I continuously ask myself when I find myself all too frequently baffled by other people’s behavior. There I am, sitting with my fancy label next to the bulbous jugs of Carlos Rossi sangria wondering why I’m apparently unloveable. Some people are there just for the cheap sangria, and I guess I’m just not your lady if that’s what you’re looking for. Case in point: there are some people in life that you’re better off without, but that’s a hard lesson to learn. Unless you fully isolate yourself from that outside world, I think one that it’s one we continuously learn.

Throughout the years, my friends have seen me through a lot of ups and downs–we’re talking forcibly putting cookies in my hands whilst I ugly cry, topping off my holiday coffee with a little more Baileys in the name of “pain management,” and even helping me clean my house when I’m feeling too down-in-the-dumps to function. Seriously. Please imagine my friends determinedly swiffering around me as I lie on the ground on the fetal position. If I hadn’t been so nonfunctional at the time, it would have been quite comical. But, it’s moments like these that make me so grateful to have a community of people that support me so unconditionally. They’ve seen me at my lowest, and even taken care of me when I was sick. They’re the kind of people you hope to have by your side in life.

Surround yourself with people that meet you on the top shelf and know you belong there, too.

You’ll know where to find me.

EVA ♥

I Wanted to Write…

In my 30 years of life, I’ve recently learned a hard lesson. It’s one that I’m grateful for, but nonetheless, it was probably one of the hardest things I’ve had to learn to date. My mother recently told me to write about these things, but sometimes I find myself staring at the blinking  pulse of the typing cursor on my laptop for long periods of time before closing it.

Some things are too hard to write about. So I’ll write about words.

As a writer, it’s quite a challenge to wrap your mind around the concept that words can mean nothing– they can have little heft in the grand scheme of life. Trying to quantify your life with words, what other people say versus what their actions are is an exercise in futility. There’s, of course, the age old adage that words mean nothing unless they’re followed up with actions, and I find that to be entirely true. The last few years of my young life have forced me to explore the concept (and now knowledge) that there are individuals for which words are fundamentally just that: they’re words, and not much else. For someone who has a mild obsession with words, and the nuanced way in which we might use them, this is especially dangerous. Someone can be saying all the right things, but their treatment of you can speak the volumes that you chose not to hear.

There can be a fundamental unhealthiness in holding on to words. For someone who occasionally spends her days running entirely on coffee and high levels of anxiety this can be especially tricky. If you’re anything at all like me, dear readers, words can serve as a the mind’s equivalent to a stress ball. Turning them over and over in your head, worrying all the edges away, using them as a source of reassurance despite reality indicating something entirely different. Depending on who they’re from and how they’re delivered, you can let the words scar you immeasurably or be the reason you sleep soundly at night.  I’ve all too often found myself trying to rationalize a person’s behavior based on the words they give me. One of my favorite young poets, Sarah Kay definitively says that “it is hard to build a body out of words.” Anyone who has ever tried to bridge the gap of understanding between two people can easily relate to this. I’ve experienced both distance and silence from some of the people that I’ve wanted to feel close to, but trying to build a relationship or understand someone just from their words alone can lead to unending disappointment.

The safe thing about writing is that you can turn those things around for yourself. You can take control and tell the stories that you want. You can create any kind of reality you want to; it’s there, because it exists on paper. You give them a life of their own by writing them down and they can be a direct way of controlling your life’s narrative. I find a great comfort in that. Despite how other people might use them, I chose to fully own my own experiences through my words as well as my actions. The good and the bad. Maybe one day I’ll share more of the difficult things on here. As author Anne Lamott so wisely said:

“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

 
Until next time,
EVA ♥

I Fell Asleep Next to a Burrito…

If I were to write a memoir (an inevitable goal of mine), I decided this past winter that the title would be I Fell Asleep Next to a Burrito and other stories I didn’t see coming…

Yes, I’m aware these are tacos. They are just open-faced burritos, really.

(Spoiler alert: The inspiration for this title stems from the fact that I actually fell asleep next to a half-eaten burrito once over the holidays. Of all the things to potentially wake up next to, this one isn’t half bad, but still not entirely encouraging. In my defense, I was very tired and also very hungry.)
 
Chapter Two would be something along the lines of “I just spilled tequila on my shoe. Because having a bottle of tequila at your desk is normal, right?”
When I first joked about this with friends I tried to backpedal a bit, saying that I would write two books: one full of utterly ridiculous stories and shenanigans (the “burrito” book) and another more introspective, thoughtful.
This was, of course, quickly shot down.
“No! No! It has to all be in I Fell Asleep Next to a Burrito! It’s what people would want to read.”
Ok… so admitting that sometimes my life is a mess is one thing, but flaunting it in print forever? I had mental pictures of my great-grandchildren looking horrified when being presented with it. At best, they would find it amusing and sort-of ridiculous. Maybe they might feel a weird sense of pride that great-grandmama was a total wacko? I tried to even imagine saying it with a straight face: “Yes, I’m a writer. I have one book in print at the moment: I Fell Asleep Next to a Burrito.
I’m sure that’s a Pulitzer prize winner right there.
If I’m seriously going to go forward with a book like this, there will of course also have to be a chapter entitled “Where did all these f***ing shoes come from?” And “It’s a phone, it’s not rocket science.” I’m sure some feminists out there will tear me up for perpetuating awful female/Millennial stereotypes, but hear me out. My book wouldn’t be some sort of girly answer to the dreaded Tucker Max sagas (anyone remember those horrible things?). Quite the contrary. I would like to empower women like myself to unabashedly be who they are–through the ups, the downs, all of it. Because, contrary to what might be popular belief, a 30-something woman living in California does have things to add to the world other than babies and the things she pins on Pinterest.
I recently spoke with a friend of mine who works in publishing, and, after having seen and worked with all manner of authors, she’s concluded that everyone simply writes what they themselves need to read. Have trouble making non-divisive conversation? Write about the art of small talk! Feeling isolated from your peers as they hit major life milestones (marriage, home ownership, children)? Write about what makes your life unique and valid, not despite all those things, but because of them.
Until next time, dear readers.
EVA ♥

Things I Learned in 2017

Hello readers,

Despite the last two years of my life feeling a bit like a one-way ticket on the Hot Mess Express, I very much try to look on the positive side of things. Every year around my birthday my good friend Rachel asks me what she calls the “Birthday Question.” The question is simply: “What did it take you (insert your new age here) amount of years to learn?” Now, granted this time of year isn’t anywhere near my birthday, but I thought I would apply the same kind of thinking when looking back at this last year. This year was one full of milestones for me, and it took a little bit of reflection to realize that, though less than stellar things might happen in the course of your life, it is still a good life. If you need a sign from the universe that this is true, there is one in the Aria Resort in Las Vegas. I conveniently found it on my 30th birthday. And on, that note, I’m going to tell some of the things I learned in 2017:

I’ve learned how to do Las Vegas. Now, I know you’re probably thinking: “Eva, what’s there to ‘do’? You’re there at least once a year already.” Nay nay, there are certain tricks you can employ to seriously maximize your Vegas experience. Ladies, use that social media! Put as many ridiculous Vegas-related hashtags in your comments as you can think of. Save promoters phone numbers and build a rapport. Get a group of your best girlfriends and get yourself out there! Adventures await. Just make sure you take a few naps, stock up on the Red Bull, and wear your most comfortable heels. You too can “hack” Vegas if you’re determined enough.

You want the thing? Do the thing. Yes, this is a primitive way of putting it. Only you have the power to change things and do things for yourself. You want to be the go-getter? Go get things, just by taking those first steps. Sure, you might think “Dear God, what am I doing?” half the time, but you’re really creating the life that you want and deserve for yourself.

On a lighter note: I now know that I have the uncanny ability to hold two drinks in the same hand. This is especially convenient when trying to take selfies or photos of whatever event you’re at.

 

Order the thing you want. Order what you really want, and don’t regret it. Screw it. Get the lobster topped with lobster and a cocktail and dessert. This is a case in which the term “Yolo” might actually be appropriate. 

Not everyone deserves an explanation or a reaction. Sometimes, the best thing to say is nothing at all.  As someone who frequently posts her innermost thoughts on the internet, this has been a hard one for me. Sometimes people who disturb your peace just aren’t worth it. You can’t demand peace of mind from other people; you might not ever understand why they do what they do. You just have to figure it out for yourself and move forward.

Tell the people you love that you love them. Yes, it can be scary. Sometimes it doesn’t feel very good, even though it should. Do it anyway. Everyone is worthy of loving and being loved. It doesn’t have to be a quid pro quo thing. Sometimes loving someone doesn’t work out the way you want it to, sometimes it’s not enough. Tell them anyway. Don’t beat yourself up for being vulnerable. You’re a better person for it. Because, as Vladimir Nabokov so elegantly put it, we’re all just “rust and stardust” in the end. Nothing is ever guaranteed.

And lastly….

It’s not always you. 

And it’s a good life, indeed.

EVA ♥

I Ain’t Sorry.

Hello all, 
 
First of all, I want to thank everyone who took the time out from their days to read my previous posts. I’m still seriously touched that so many people read the general nonsense that comes out of my brain. All 360+ posts of general nonsense…you are my people, and I love you. 
 
As I’ve said before here on Watch Me Juggle, things don’t always go the way you planned. 

{Beyoncé’s “Sorry” has become a bit of an anthem of mine.}

 

When you’re little, saying your sorry tends to be one of life’s hard-learned lessons. If you wrong someone, bump into them, do anything even remotely impolite, you say “sorry,” and move on. You took her cookie? Say you’re sorry. You accidentally tripped her during jump rope? Say you’re sorry. But what happens when “sorry” become the default? When it feels more like a reflexive obligation, than any kind of genuine recognition of wrongdoing? 

I’ll admit that as I’ve gotten older, I’ve been fighting the impulse to apologize for my behavior or things that have happened to me in life. ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ have somehow become mushed together into the same sentiment. A grown man shoulder-checked me on my commute the other day and I found myself apologizing…for him? Excusing myself for being so large and so much in his way? He was conveniently mute the whole time. It was all very odd. And it’s in moments like this that I think— why do we continuously apologize for other people, or for simply just being ourselves? 
 
I’ve written a blog about being unabashedly myself before, “Sorry Not Sorry.” I’ll be the first one to tell you that I am by no means perfect, heck, (I’ve documented enough embarrassing and strange moments in my life on here for anyone to figure that out) but I feel like I also have the tendency to routinely apologize for myself more than is necessary. 
 
While I’m more spiritual than religious, I’m a huge believer in karma, that what you put out in the universe always comes around to you in another form. Regardless of how others treat you, it’s your job to be kind and graceful— to keep your chin up no matter how badly some things have gone. Some people might think that that means being a pushover, but I think that there’s an incredible amount of power in being able to fully own your behavior. And to me, there’s nothing worse than feeling like “Oh, I shouldn’t have said/done that,” because, while you can’t control the other people in your life, you can control yourself. Hold yourself to your own high standards. There are always going to be unfortunate people out there, and how they treat you should never be taken as a reflection on you. Of course, this is easier said than done. And I am as far away as anyone from having the answers. But I’m starting here…
Until next time,
EVA ♥

Almost 30.

Hello everyone!

Yesterday, I turned 28.

Yep, no denial here. 28. As many times as I joke that I’m 21 or 22 (people believe me, which is slightly awkward…), I’m really almost 30. I had a full day of completely indulgent things that made me happy- I got my hair blown out, went to tea at Neiman Marcus, had a glass of champagne with my mother, and a big family dinner. I’ve been told before that no “adult” takes their birthday off, so I ran the risk of feeling like a kid, and took the day off anyway. No adult thinks that their birthday is something to celebrate, apparently.

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You see, I’m almost 30. I have friends who are married, friends who have children, friends who want to buy houses. Every year, my friend Rachel asks me what she calls the “‘Birthday Question:’ What has it taken you __ years to learn?” This year, I shared something that I know to be true, yet I still think I’m learning it, if that makes sense. It’s a bit like that saying “comparison is the thief of joy.”

Many of us start our adult lives the same way- high school then college, graduation then a job. What people don’t tell you is that everyone’s lives tend to go on their own course from there. Some of your friends will leave the country, some of your friends will have babies, some might join the army. There’s no right or wrong way to go about things. Comparing your lives at this point, is pretty much an exercise in futility.  Other people might try, even if you don’t. They’ll compare your life to how their’s was or is. So, that’s what I learned this year. Or what I’m trying to learn.

Sometimes I think about what my life would look like if it had gone differently, or gone the way I thought it might when I was a teenager. And it makes me sad to think about- I certainly wouldn’t be the same person I am today. It still seems funny to say that I’m proud of the things that I’ve done- I work in a field I love, I have a place I can call my own, I own some beautiful shoes, and, as of yesterday, a brand-new Nespresso machine (Yay! Fancy!). This month, I have plans to go to Vegas and Washington D.C. Just for fun, and to see new things. I’m like a real adult. Who knew?

I’m almost 30, and I think it’s hard to be grateful sometimes, but I try everyday. I think it’s human nature to fixate on the one thing that we don’t yet have, or the things we think we’re missing. I’m almost 30, and I’m trying to make myself into the person that I really want to be. No one’ going to do it for me. At my birthday dinner yesterday, I had ten people there to celebrate, many of whom have known me since before I can remember. We had some really good food, told stories, and I laughed so hard, I thought I might wet my pants. People from all over wished me a happy birthday. It made me feel special, but not in that little-kid way. I have a fridge full of mini cupcakes, but also a really nice bottle of brut rose.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

EVA♥

Taking Stock 3.0

Hello all!

It’s been quite a while since my last “Taking Stock” post. It’s been an eventful week in the Bay Area, which means many exciting posts to come. In a nutshell, I spent this last weekend at numerous parties, a concert, and even found myself at a comedy club at one point. Don’t worry, I was not the one onstage. (Insert rimshot here.) So I decided to bring it back-to-basics this Monday with a little list.

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San Francisco: a city that’s beautiful at all angles. If I didn’t like her so much, I would probably hate her. So darn photogenic. This was taken at the top of Lafayette Park.

Making : weird faces. At myself. For absolutely no reason. You can tell exactly what I’m thinking based on my facial expressions. I am not a natural at poker, that’s for sure.
Cooking : bread pudding. I always seem to have leftover/stale bread lying around, and it seems like such a waste to throw it out. Bring on the kitchen experiments!
Drinking : La Croix. Sure, it’s just water in a can. But it’s also fancy, apricot-flavored, sparkling water! I can get behind that.
Reading The Opposite of Loneliness by Marina Keegan and Kate Atkinson’s Case Histories.
Wanting : a pair of overalls. I’m basically an adult woman that likes to pretend she’s still a kid.
Wishing : I could shake my sometimes constant nostalgia. As they say, “Don’t look back. You’re not going that way.”
Enjoying : leftover tres leches cake from my friend Jessie’s bridal shower. De-licious!
Listening : The Pandora Jim Gaffigan station. It helps get me through my workday, especially when I need a little chuckle.
Waiting : for the Fourth of July weekend to come!
Liking : making small talk with strangers. It’s always nice to get to know the people around you a little better. Need some inspiration? Check out this guide to starting a conversation in 60 seconds.
Loving : Louboutin shopping. I’ve vowed to buy myself a pair before 28. Happy birthday to me!
Bookmarking: place’s to visit in Napa on an upcoming weekend getaway.
Watching : This amazing music video featuring dancers. I must say, I’m loving this trend.
Needing : an organizational system for my clothes that does not involve piling things on a chair.
Smelling : my Capri Blue Volcano candle. I burn it constantly when I’m at home.
Wearing : my DV by Dolce Vita blue suede sandals. They were a steal at $5.
Thinking : about my latest to-do list.
Marveling : at all the exciting goings-on over the weekend. #LoveWins
Feeling : the anticipation. I somehow have plans for every weekend until August. Road trips and vacation, here I come!

Today’s blog was inspired by Pip whose blog, Meet Me at Mike’s,  I stumbled upon while browsing around A Pretty Penny. Go check them out! Great little corners of the internet. 

EVA♥

I’m The Kind of Girl Who…

Hello everyone!

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This is me. So obnoxiously excited to be at work that I document it in a selfie when no one is in the office.

I’m really late on the “I’m the kind of girl” post bandwagon, I must say. Here I was, thinking I was being all original, when I stumbled across this post from one of my favorite blogs: I Wore Yoga Pants To Work. As many would say, no art is truly original. I started writing this post in the little pink notebook I carry around with me, and it was further inspired by those gals out there who aren’t afraid to be themselves.

I was always kind of a quirky person. It’s only over the last few years that I’ve had the confidence to really embrace it. When I was younger, I found out that it’s a lot of wasted effort trying to be something other people want you to be. Being as true to yourself, as authentic as possible, is pretty much the best way to earn points with anyone. I’m aware that I’m very much a paradox: the clumsy ballerina, the girl who can get all dressed up and still act like to total goofball. I’m a bit of a weirdo, I’ll admit it. But, it does my heart good when people can laugh with me, and find a place in their hearts for someone who’s openly imperfect.

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I’m the kind of girl who…

eats cake for dinner on occasion. Or a pint of ice cream. When I was 18 and living in Santa Barbara I realized that no one could stop me from doing this if I just felt like it. So I did.

talks to other cars on the road while driving. Yes, you Mr. Prius. Make up your mind. Are you turning or going straight? This is San Francisco, and I don’t have all damn day.

will work ten times harder at something if you say I can’t do it. Just watch me. Watch me juggle all the things. I’ll put all my heart and soul into it, too. Whoever first told me I couldn’t dance had another thing coming.

isn’t afraid of being alone. This wasn’t always the case. When I first moved into my apartment I had a hard time sleeping at night, but now I relish the time I have to myself. I can listen to horrible music as much as I want, and walk around my house in heels and no one is there to judge me.

wears vintage/thrifted clothes with my most expensive accessories. I love looking like a million bucks without spending nearly that much. Am so fancy, you guys.

bakes when sad. Totally serious. Whether in the midst of a personal crisis or just having a depressing lazy day for no reason. Want a cake? Done. Maybe I’ll throw a dozen cookies in there too. And some scones. It’s a productive thing to put your energy into; at the end you’re left with a bunch of treats and a house that smells delicious. It’s an instant mood booster.

will read books and watch movies over and over again. You can always tell my favorites by how beat up they are. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” and “Sabrina” are constants in my life.

likes to dance like an idiot out at clubs sometimes. I do the running man, and the sprinkler with inappropriate levels of enthusiasm. If only partially to see peoples’ reactions, seeing as most know I dance for a living. People just need to stop taking themselves so seriously.

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sings words during conversation. It was during a recent car ride that I noticed this about myself. A friend of mine started laughing hysterically and I couldn’t figure out why. I guess singing the phrase “heli-copter par-ents” while doing awkward robot arm movements isn’t something that people do on a regular basis.

You can’t make this stuff up. It’ s honestly just how I am.

EVA♥

Taking Stock: Christmas Edition

Hello all!

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It’s been one whirlwind of a week, and, considering it’s only Wednesday, the holiday craziness continues!

I apparently didn’t have enough foresight to know that going to Trader Joe’s on Christmas Eve would be complete and utter chaos. (Insert horrified emoji here) I pointedly said “Wow! It’s crazy in here” to the woman at the checkout, who looked at me like I had lost my mind. Touché.

Either way, I realized while getting ready for work at the ballet this morning that it’s been an awful long while since my first Taking Stock post, and thought an updated was long overdue!

Here goes nothing…

Making : a last minute gift bag for my neighbor. I found a little Christmas cheer from him waiting at my door today in the form of a gift card. So thoughtful!
Cooking : Parmesan pups from TJ’s to snack on. A high brow pigs-in-a-blanket, really.
Drinking : Found Elderflower soda. A recent delicious discovery at the local Target.
Reading: Survivorby Chuck Palahniuk. I’ve been craving dark novels as of late.
Wanting: Christmas Eve dinner!
Playing: The wait-until-the-last-minute-to-get-ready-for-a-party game.
Wishing: that everyone gets all that they wanted this Christmas.
Enjoying: reruns of Sex & the City on my tiny television.
Waiting: for Christmas morning to enjoy mimosas with the boss lady.
Liking: Nicki Minaj’s new album. I know, it’s rather out of character for me…
Wondering: what to wear! Is an all-black Christmas ensemble appropriate? With a red lip,too.
Loving: the amount of love my students, friends, and family have shown me this Christmas.
Marveling: at the amount of time I’ve spent away from home over the last few weeks.
Needing: an extra cookie sheet to accommodate all the cookie baking I’ve been doing.
Smelling:  Viktor & Rolf’s Flowerbomb. It’s my new fragrance!
Wearing: a big, slouchy teal cashmere sweater to keep me warm.
Thinking: about going to see Into the Woods in theaters soon.
Knowing: that I’ll do some serious damage at all the after Christmas sales.
Opening: presents soon, of course.
Giggling: over Jenna Marbles latest video. Typical Eva.
Feeling: tired. restless. excited. All the things.

….

Wishing you a happy, merry magical Christmas season, dear readers!

EVA♥