Jack Dawson… Penniless artist who wins a ticket onto Titanic in 1912, attends a first class dinner, develops a taste for the finer things in life, pockets the Heart of the Ocean, survives the sinking, pawns the diamond, spends the following ten years building his wealth and in 1922 moves to West Egg as Jay Gatsby… Millionaire with a shady past and fear of swimming pools.
This is amazing. Also, I’m seeing Gatsby tonight at the Ziegfeld theater. So excited!
Marcia and I are enjoying one of the first summery nights on the roof. Complete with rose bubbles and blogging, of course.
You know it’s been a crazy month when I didn’t even notice until the 21st that my calendar was a month behind.
A delivery of new shoes definitely makes this Monday brighter.
(Both are Sam Edelman, on sale on Zappos!)
This weekend last year:
We celebrated Jon’s birthday. 27 years, 7 of those together.
My brother got married, and we had the most beautiful celebration at our shore house. The weather, the spirit, the love was gorgeous.
My kitchen renovation started the day after my brother’s wedding.
I was an associate teacher, not thinking I would suddenly be thrown into a job opportunity weeks later.
28 years. 8 years together. Happy birthday to my favorite of favorites.
Happy one year anniversary to my brother and sister-in-law. Your wedding was so special, and though we said goodbye to the shore only months later, this will forever be such a happy memory of that place.
The renovation went two months longer than planned. But I fall a bit more in love with my kitchen each day.
And I’m almost done with my first year as head teacher.
It’s been a crazy, whirlwind year when I think back. This picture above is so bittersweet, but it will always be a favorite of mine. A lovely day, a lovely weekend, and so much joy to share.
A sentimental Sunday.
New York moments: Of course I pass a woman on stilts and fishnets showing off her ass on my walk home from Bar Method.
Happy Saturday, folks.
and I’m still sore from Field Day.
One of the first good sunsets of the season.
It has been an insanely busy week at school, so I’m just catching up on some news.
And this picture from Prince Henry’s recent visit to NJ made me stop in my tracks.
I know that garage. Hell, I may even recognize those scraps.
It’s not every day that a Prince visits the site where your shore house once stood. Where there is nothing left, but shambles of our house lay across the street. It isn’t something that impacts my life on a daily basis anymore, but can still send a series of chills down my spine in seconds flat.
In an effort to be positive, this may be the closest I’ll ever be to Prince Harry.