the feminine mystique

from Stellar, by Ignacio Torres

I’ve written ad nauseam about the trials and tribulations women face in their professional and personal lives. I am a woman, and the struggle is very real for me and my fellow females.

But today is International Women’s Day, so for this one day of the 366 days this year, I will not tear my hair out in worry. I will celebrate my femininity in all its beautiful, graceful, wild, and imperfect glory. I will dance and sing and love every inch of myself. I will send love to all my fellow women in the hopes that they, too, get some reprieve from the everyday battles and have a peaceful moment today to simply exist and to enjoy their existence.

Happy International Women’s Day to every girl and woman out there, whether you were born this way or identify this way. The fight continues, but that fight should never get in the way of everyday gratitude and self-love.


m o o d s :: i n s o m n i a



from The Spirit Leaves the Body, 1968 by Duane Michals

Sleep is hard. Insomnia comes at night and suddenly I’m staring at the ceiling, willing myself not to look at the clock. The stars outside are beautiful, or would be we weren’t all drowning in light pollution. No matter, there are ocean waves and rainstorms on my headphones. If I can’t sleep, at least I can listen to the sound of my own breathing until the sun’s rays light up the bedroom walls.

Tonight. There’ll be another chance to sleep tonight.


pic via


Screenshot 2015-05-22 at 5.22.51 PM

a light pre-moving lunch courtesy of Duke’s Grocery

I recently decided that I’m never moving again. And by “recently” I mean yesterday, and by “decided” I mean cried myself to sleep after two very, very long days of packing up & moving multiple loads of boxes, tote bags, garbage bags, furniture, and eventually just random handfuls of things out of our not-so-nice (but very large) old apartment into our very nice (but quite small) new apartment.

The only things that got me through the move were:

A. My cat, who, despite hiding under the bed for the majority of his transition into the Brave New World, still let us scratch his belly in between loads of boxes.

B. My boyfriend, who despite getting on my nerves on day one is a trooper who doesn’t complain about having to carry my oversized suitcases — plural, sorry, Garv Screenshot 2015-05-22 at 2.38.30 PMScreenshot 2015-05-22 at 2.38.30 PMScreenshot 2015-05-22 at 2.38.30 PM — full of hardcover books up three flights of stairs. #BallerStatus

C. This playlist:


And while we are currently living amongst a sea of boxes, I’m already dreaming of what this beautiful new place (marbled bathroom floors! brand new appliances! private balcony!) is going to look like once we’re all done unpacking && building our new furniture. THAT’S RIGHT, we’re getting all DIY up in this bitch. Here’s a small glimpse of inspiration and what’s to come — Let’s call it rustic-gilded bohemian, shall we? That’s what I’m sticking by until a better name comes along. Stay tuned for updates/actual apartment photos once we’ve cleared up some boxes!

Xoxo, MakingThisAdulthoodThingUpAsIGoAlong-Girl

DIY Floating Copper Shelves










scalamandre wallpaper


moroccan room