An Egg = Change

Change.

For some its a difficult word. A difficult process.

Admittedly, I thought I was immune to change. Immune or unaffected. Or perhaps I thought I was “good” at change.

When you move ten times before high school, through five different countries and five different states, change would be your norm. You just assume change comes naturally. What else do you know? You’re a third culture kid, floating in and out of one world to the next. One culture to the next, one friend group to the next, from house to condo, suburb to island to the metropolis of Tokyo.

Change is your uncountable blessing. It propels you forward with hastening speed. Perhaps there wasn’t even time to question whether or not I was comfortable with change.

Now, with change all around me, am I as “good” with it as I once was?

I have yet to answer.

However there are a few changes I am definitely good with!

Like this barn table friend gifted me. (Mom did a great job staining) But who knew my uber modern style would evolve? I swore it wouldn’t 🙂

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And all of a sudden I make eggs? Like frittatas and actually eat them? For so long I had quite the aversion to any egg that wasn’t deviled or poached.Similar Recipe here.

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Are you “good” with change?

Dear Suburbs Part 2

Dear Suburbs,

Can you believe it has almost been a month since we were cautiously reunited? Don’t worry, our time together is quickly coming to an end. Whatever weird event you were planning on throwing at me, do it soon.

While I am still waiting to discover the crazy I know is behind some corner, your peaceful respite found me over the weekend.

After nonstop moving, weddings and festivities, a weekend in your folds was necessary. Where I could roll out of bed and into Starbucks on Saturday morning, with my hair on top of my head and the dog on my lap, without fear of running into a soul I know.

Same with yoga, except for Friend D, who convinced me to take the level higher. I’m sure I’ll thank her later, when I can bend over, sit down normal and lift my hairdryer once again…. Where is a man when you need him to open this bottle of water? O yeah, I’m living with my parents….”DAD!!!!!”

Well suburbs, you even convinced me to try some DIY, and we all know I am the furthest thing from a DIYer…..

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Seriously, what can I spray paint next??! Is this what happens? One DIY and then addiction? Yes I pulled a bookcase out of storage and I’m tackling it as soon as it isn’t 100 degrees out.

Lets be honest, I did make it into the city this weekend, as one of us needs to make new friends:

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Hey Lulu!

And it wouldn’t be a successful weekend without some homemade pesto and roasted veggies:

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I’m sure my yoga torn body will thank me tomorrow…

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How was your weekend?

Dear Suburbs

Dear Suburbs,

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I’ve arrived and I’m here to stay for a month or two. I know we have been strangers for quite some time. Please be kind.

Lately my excursions to you have been filled with strange happenings. Like people stealing gas at gas stations. Or friends running into elementary teachers, who then proceed to ask their former student on a date.

We both know I ‘do the city’ but for now we are ‘doing you.’

Let’s have some fun. Eat good food, discover new places, and find a few adventures along the way.

PS one of us has adjusted nicely….

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