Where's My Time Machine?

Lots of the time i wish that i had a time machine. The reasons vary, but today it's because i want to go back to the era where drive-in movies still existed. When you could sit in your car with a speaker box positioned so you could hear exactly what was going on. Everyone encapsulated in their little worlds observing the same thing straight ahead. Time did a 75 Years of Drive-ins article and it really truly made me want to go find one of the 400 drive-ins that are still around in the US. Road trip theme anyone?

Let's Go Live In The Woods?

(photos via design to inspire)

I love the city a lot. A lot a lot. I get wrapped up in it, and love watching people day in and day out, and love diversity, and love that i can get anything any time of the day. BUT, and this is a big but, every single day i think about how amazing it would be to run away to the woods and live with someone i love and maybe a dog and a cat. I think i could be perfectly content in my own little bubble. Instead of being in a city where i seek out nature and find it charming and rare, i would be in it. Days would be lazy and long, full of cooking and reading and maybe working once in a while when it was necessary somewhere i wasn't committed to. There would be fires and long walks and trees all around. There would be dinners that lasted hours and staring into space and reading the newspaper to get a glimpse of the life that was left behind. There would be figuring out exactly how to be happy. Someday the city will be too much, and i will run away, and you'll have to come find me in the woods.

How Things Feel Right Now.

New.

I like finding new blogs that you scour for hours because there is something that strikes you just right. This one is fun, it looks like a dream.

Life.

Dream Bike, Pt. II.

Yet another installment of "gimme that bike". Sometimes i think about how the perfect bike in the perfect neighborhood in the city could make everything feel one hundred times better than it does right now. This bike seems like the closest thing i've found to my dream bike. If only it had a basket. 

Remembering.

Driving to a place you've been dozens of times, you know every stop sign, every bend in the road, everything you'll see as you make your way there. You've been there with you're mother and you're grandmother. You've seen the homemade sign that reads 'TRUCK-PATCH" nailed to the red building, and you've always wondered why a farm stand would be called that. You've been there when you were too small to see into the large displays of all the corn that was grown in the fields you passed getting there. You've been there when you were just old enough to pick out the perfect nectarine for yourself, eating it on the way home, leaving your hands sticky and your stomach satisfied. You've been there on days when you were allowed to get a treat for no specific reason at all, the 60 cent ice cream bar or the 50 cent can of soda. You still go, and now you can see everything, and corn still costs 40 cents, cans of soda 50, ice cream 60. The little things that used to make you happy and nostalgic when you were five, still make you happy and nostalgic now.

Endless Skies & Beachcombers

Polaroids just can't be beat.

Some Things.

I'm thinking that someday i need to go to Filicudi, Italy, not only because it's name is wonderfully fun sounding (i mean, come on, filicudi, that doesn't sound real that sounds like a fairytale), but also because it looks beautiful. Sometimes i forget how much i love the beach until i go for the first time in the summer. That first is always unlike any of the other times; the sand feels grainier, the sky looks a little more expansive, the water seems so much colder, and most importantly it feels like the most calm and relaxing place in the world, like no other place could ever feel so peaceful. Any beach will do really, as long as there's sand and ocean and blue skies for miles. 

Life's A Ball.

Baseball & Hot Dogs

Wanna Be Scared?

Two things. 

First thing's first: credit for this article. I was sitting at work and my dad IMed it to me and said i should blog about it. I couldn't figure out if i was more amused by the article itself and how it made me scared of heights without even being there (i'm not usually), or whether the amusing thing was that my dad was sending me things to blog about. So, thanks dad. You rule. 

Secondly: WHAT?! Why would you create such a terrifying glass box on the 103rd floor of the Sears Tower in Chicago?! Do you want people to die horrible horrible deaths from getting heart attacks? I like lots of brick, and cement, and rebar, and steel, and wood, and many other building materials underfoot when i'm in a skyscraper. Glass just isn't going to cut it. Worst. Idea. Ever.