I wish I knew.

I wish I knew.
I wish I knew who you were. 
I wish I knew when you would come, when we find each other.
Will we meet in a coffee shop, where we bond over the simplicity of black coffee?
Will you sit next to me one day at the dog beach and strike up a conversation?
Will I accidentally run into you on the street and be mesmerized by your baby blue eyes?
Will I meet you at a friend’s wedding, where you rescue me from dancing with her grandpa for the hundredth time?
Will I notice you and more importantly, will you notice me?
I wish I knew.

 

Xx

ally

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Little things/little thoughts

photo (6)

I have a tendency to start writing and then stop. So I’m left with a lot of sentences and phrases that don’t get strung together with anything larger. Sometimes though, there is beauty in the small little things, or the small little thoughts. Here are some of mine today:

Musings

Generational sins get passed down so carelessly. Porous and permissive.
__________________

Cut the line for communion. Whoops. Jesus is my homeboy.

______________________

Craigslist tells me that 
you can make big money,
make big money
writing little books
— & eBooks. 
_______________________________
This morning I spilled my coffee,  
then deleted my manuscript. 
It was half a page 
in notated form 
with spell check turned off 
because my Microsoft Word is too old for new software, 
too old for new software.
So really, this morning I spilled my coffee, 
then deleted a lot of misspelled words. 
_______________________________________
You sit in the sun and read —
and I make up a story for you, 
like you’re a page to be read. 
A light blue shirt because it reminds you of being back home 
where the lake would glow and gurgle slowly to the pace of the wind. 
Shorts – kahki – because it’s hot today, unseasonably hot for October —
but that’s Southern California. 
You look up when a girl with a backpack on passes by. 
Uncross your legs and bring one up to your side. 
New Balance shoes on because you biked here. 
You want to save the environment and restore the air quality, one pedal at a time. 
Now you stand up. 
Sweat spots linger lightly on your back. 
You look down the street. 
You’re looking for someone. 
Sit back down. 
Cough softly but not too softly because you have a tickle in your throat, not a cold. 
You’re healthy and active, 
an outdoors type of man.
Polite too because you move your foot out of the way, when a woman gets up to leave. 
You take out an orange highlighter.
You’re reading a classic — Oedipus Rex —
or a trashy romance novel, 
poetry, 
Steinbeck and The Grapes of Wrath.
Close the book. 
Guess I’ll never know. 
____________________________
Late nights 
and hot air,
sticky hair 
28th street 
heat,
meet me for
more
drip coffee 
see
rain fall,
rainfall in summer
— a foreign concept
onsets this set 
of strung together circumstances. 
______________________________
Empty soda bottles and wine boxes,
warped hardwood floors, 
unpainted patches, 
fruit flys 
meander by 
and the house swayed as big-rigs swerved by 

swear
to 
God
________________
I exist somewhere in-between plastic and woman.
I feel entirely static. Like bones that do not grow, but are place within skin solely to occupy space.
____________________

XX,

Abby

Love & Adventure

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Recently, I’ve been pushing myself outside of my comfort zone. Or perhaps, rather than thinking, analyzing, or worrying, I am simply allowing myself to be. I feel that I’ve been trying to take each moment as it comes and for once, to allow myself to live without worrying about mistakes.

Yes, I know there is a greater potential for hurt, disappointment and perhaps, even heartbreak. However, there is also a greater chance for happiness, joy, love, excitement and freedom!

I challenge you to take little risks each day! Even if it’s just one! Why stay stuck in your head or in your safe box? Why not, try something new and different? Let yourself experience life and all it has to offer. I promise you that you will look back one day and not regret that you did.

Honestly, what’s the worst that can happen?

Xx

Allie 

The Single Woman

single woman

“When you are your own best friend, you don’t endlessly seek out relationships, friendships, and validation from the wrong sources because you realize that the only approval and validation you need is your own.”

Honestly, I struggle quite a bit with the idea of being a single woman. I’ve never been in a relationship, never had a boyfriend, and my dating track record is not the best. Actually, as my best friend Brooke puts it, I tend to be interested in “douche bags” and “jack-asses” and fraternity “boys.” This past year has been a pretty rough one when it comes to boys, and thus, I have found myself broken-hearted and unsure of if love is even worth it.

Lately, I’ve taken a good look at why being a single woman is so difficult for me. What it really comes down to is the belief that I am unlovable or inherently unworthy in some way. I have connected my failure in the dating world to being a failure as a person. In reality, those  two things have nothing to do with each other. Seeking validation through boys and the external world has only distracted me from finding validation from the person that matters most- myself.

I believe it is so truly important and vital for us to love ourselves. I know this may sound cliché, but the ability to cultivate self-love and self-validation is essential to a happy life. If we are constantly trying to live for others, we will never experience fulfillment.

Just some musings on this idea. I shall keep you posted on how things are going.

Xx,

Allie

Weekender

Just got back from San Francisco, and while I could go on about how much I already miss it…I think I’ll just post some photos from the trip. A picture’s worth a 1,000 words, right? Happy Monday loves!

XX

Abby

securedownloadTreated myself to an almond + cherry scone and an almond milk latte at a little cafe I stumbled upon while walking through the city.

Union Square ♥

Ferry building = one of my favorite places in SF.

Words cannot describe how happy I was to be reunited with my Blue Bottle Coffee, sigh.

Handmade infinity wire bracelet I picked up from a street vendor.

photo 3Lovely view from the Sutro Baths.

photo 1Peak of the Golden Gate Bridge during a hike through Lands End.

Commission

I can admit it: I love eavesdropping. Not in an intrusive way, just paying avid attention to over heard words. Found language. Today, while reading at Starbucks, a business meeting was happening at the table next to me. In a way, it felt like I was supposed to be at that Starbucks at that time just to hear that conversation.

Right now, in my life, there is a preoccupation with money. My parents and by extension, myself, are scrapping for cash and quite frankly grasping at straws. I don’t know how it will all pan out and it’s scary to feel so vulnerable because of a lack of money. Right when I was pretty much thinking of selling my soul to help pay bills, I over head this group of financial analysts and consultants at Starbucks. I was so put off by more or less everything they said, how they carried themselves, and how entitled they acted. While I still wish money did grow on trees, I would rather be struggling than jaded. Money, despite what our culture suggests, is NOT everything.

Below is a little piece I wrote inspired by the overhead conversation that also inspired this post:

Commission

“The bottom line of this meeting is to make money.”

“Time is money.”

“I do a lot of selling.”

– But when all you care about is making money, don’t you get exhausted? Drained, at least? Eyes tired from viewing everything behind dollar signs? Hollowed out of humanity, if we’re being dramatic. Every body is profitable. A profit to be made. Commission. Potential commission. I don’t know you as a person, but I can judge you by your profession. Quite quickly. Quite easily. That may say a lot about me, but I think it says a lot more about you. It’s sad that money is literally the most important thing to you. In theory, it is to me too. But I have perspective enough to realize things like family, friends, health, beauty in a quiet sunrise. I don’t think you do. Money is an ugly thing that you would hail until you turn into dust. Which you will, eventually. No matter how much money you make on commission.

“When I come here, this is your table.”

-You own Starbucks now too?

“Brought the whole army.”

-Somehow you all look the same. The financial analyst. Buttoned up dress shirt. Quaffed hair. Coffee cup in hand.

“6 months to make $100,000.”

-Is that a challenge or a given?

XX

Abby

 

Library cards

“Perhaps this was why there were so many alternate paths leading to the same destination, so that the future would take care of itself, like it always did.” — Das Kapital 

The other day I found myself at the library, rather embarrassingly, asking a man at the front desk how I could get a library card. I had one, probably, literally, 11 or 12 years ago. Then lost it. Then never checked out a book again. Lately, though I’ve had such a desire to read again. Devour words completely and fully, almost greedily.  As much as I’d love to buy stacks of books, that’s not exactly in my budget these days. So in a spur of the moment decision, I drove to the library and got a new card.

It perhaps sounds juvenile, but I was so excited after I got it. I browsed the bookshelves and just took some time for myself (there is honestly nothing I like more than browsing for books, I could do it for hours). I ended up getting three. The first one I started on is Das Kapital by Vivken Berberian. It’s a novel about love and money and hedge funds in New York. I’m loving it so far and almost done with it actually. Thankfully, I have two more after that one and then an entire library to shift through.

XX

Abby

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