31 days

i'd say i'm a pretty unique looking person. most everyone else says so too. not in a bad way (i don't think), just in the way that not very many people know very many six foot tall girls with long red hair. shoot, i don't know any other tall redheads. wait. i do know one! and she's beautiful.

Here's what happens with redheads. we're used to being the only ones. so when we see another, much less one with the exact same color hair, or height or whatnot, we stare. And then we (or maybe it's just me) strike up conversation. generally about our hair. or how beautiful they are. At least that's what I did to Jessie. I was sitting next to hear at The Big Table and said "hi jessie. I'm anna. I've noticed you at jacobs well before. just got excited about another tall redhead. your hair is beautiful". yep. welcome to awkward.

but its not awkward. its actually really awesome. because that's pretty much how susannah and i met. She came up to me one day after the gathering and immediately commented on my hair. see, suz and i have the same hair. well. the same color. her's is short and saucy. mine long and wild.

we also have the same crooked smile.

and only dress up as redheaded characters on halloween.

Annie and Ariel (you know. when she first got legs on the beach and Scuttle wraps her up in a sail? favorite costume to date!)

Mrs. Incredible and Hott Donna from That 70s Show

we also look incredible in the same colors, and tend to often dress alike.

AND, the probably the most exciting, we have the SAME BIRTHDAY! Now, this generally would be no big deal, i know lots of friends with the same birthday. But when your birthday is on New Years Eve, it's a big deal. Those without NYE birthdays will probably never understand our excitement for finding someone like us. Those with Valentines birthdays come about the closest.

New Years Eve might be the most awkward day of the year. its the day to take stock in what your year amounted too. successes, failures, washes. its also the day you start thinking about the next year, what adventure is to come, just around the corner. And then there are the parties, which are generally AWESOME and involve party dresses, confetti, dancing and noisemakers. but then there's midnight. which goes back to awkward. enough said about that. moral of the story: as incredible as the parties are, they are generally never about us. you know. the who were born?!?! overshadowed by the whole world celebrating new beginnings. travesty!

so its an awkward day in general. MUCH LESS having that as your birthday. Needless to say, it feels great to share that lament with someone. So we decided this year, forget birthdays. not even birthweek. we're going for a whole birthMONTH baby! 31 days of pure unadulterated celebration.


So, sus(anna)h, on the first day of december, happy birthMONTH to us!!

for amy .

dear friends. go here now.
i promise it will be worth it . a million times over .
i have lots i could say about her . and how much i love her .

but it would be raw .
and beautiful .
and full of inside jokes that no one would get .

so here are some words i didn't write . but they're grand . and perfect for today .

Thank you. Thank you, and keep going. Please keep writing songs. Please keep believing in music, because we do, and we need it, and specifically, we need yours. we need the sounds and words and rhythms of hope and longing and beauty. We need the drums and the strings and the haunting twist of your voice. we need the poetry of your lyrics and the spirit and force of your sounds. We're desperate for great music, and there's so much out there, but never enough. We're desperate for great storytellers, great painters, great dancers, great cooks, because art does something nothing else does. Art slips past our brains straight into our bellies. it weaves itself into our thoughts and feelings and the open spaces in our souls, and it allows us to live more and say more and feels more. great eart says the things we wished someone would say out loud, the things we wish we could say out loud.

- shauna niequist : cold tangerines

thank you . stormy one .

a little mumford for your monday

Mumford & Sons - The Banjolin Song / Awake my soul from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

mumford&sons. in an alley. in paris. in french. be still my heart.

every monday should start like this.

the prettiest city in two states

Monday afternoon I drove my roommate to the airport so she could fly home for some #famthanx. We were deep in discussion, about something trivial I'm sure, as I drove right by the exit i was supposed to take. It wasn't a big deal, we'd just take the next exit, which happens to be the one I take to get to work. We took a quick jaunt through the northwest corner of downtown, me pointing out my office, Bethany asking what certain buildings were. We were stopped at the intersection of 12th and Broadway, the sun glinting sharply off the high rise windows of the financial district. Bethany squinted as she looked up and took a long pause, "I'm so glad to be right here right now. In downtown. Drinking roasterie coffee, in a roasterie mug. I'm excited to see my family, but I just really love kansas city".

I looked around at the buildings that I drive by every day, generally paying no notice to, and agreed.

Sometimes I lament that I work downtown. In a cube. For The Man. But then sometimes the sun rises just perfectly Serengeti like over the river and literally takes my breath away. Or the clouds spend a day pretending they're mountains, taunting me every time I get up from my desk. Sometimes, working downtown isn't actually that bad. Sometimes, I actually just really love it.

growing .

parker fitzgerald

i've been thinking about this alot lately. growing.

there are so many times i want to appear as arrived. fully grown. that i've got it all together. i want to look nice and presentable not a care in the world. why yes, i did bake that apple pie, from scratch, while wearing a cocktail dress and heels. this facade generally doesn't last very long. it quickly unravels, ending up a heap on the floor. all the while, i'm left scrambling trying to cover myself.

this revealing. being revealed. its hard stuff. owning the places that i'm broken is even harder. sharing my scars, letting the cool air on them, isn't easy, it's terrifying actually. But it's also deeply healing. my story, as crazy and random and inconsequential as i think it is, really matters. my pain and my broken places matter. not only for me, but for those who I share my life with. my story points to a bigger Story. my hope points to a greater Hope. my pain points to some really awesome Redemption. my playing dress up only points to me.

"There is nothing small or inconsequential about our stories. There is in fact nothing bigger. And when we tell the truth about our lives-the broken parts, the secret parts, the beautiful parts-the Gospel comes to life, an actual story about redemption, instead of abstraction and theory and things you learn in sunday school"

Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet

most days it's not so clear where i'm at, or even where i'm headed. what it doesn't require - a whole lot of dressing up. it does require growing.