la pharmacie

While in New York earlier this year, I boasted to a friend about not having ever gotten sick in Paris. It must be because I eat so well there, I half-joked. But it's true. And not just because "science compared every diet, and the winner is real food"; which, apparently, is not already a given. (For the record, I made a visit to a Parisian doctor's office in late February. Karma: 1; lack of humility: 0).

Science has also proven that we value experiences above all other purchases and that meaningful relationships promote well-being. As if I don't say it enough: there's something so wonderfully special about sharing a meal, whether at home or in a restaurant.

Last night, I was lucky enough to meet Rebecca for dinner. (She spent the last day of a Euro-work trip in Paris.) I made reservations at La Pharmacie, an especially convenient choice as I've been lusting after it since last summer when I first passed its pretty exterior.

My à point steak with chimichurri sauce, roasted potatoes, and salad was fantastic; our pichet of red wine, even more so. And don't even get me started on their butterscotch molten cake. My god. I've since added it to my list of favorite restos and am already eager to bask in the warm ambiance and convivial environment once more. I'll likely be pressed for time, money, and occasions to do so though. Have I mentioned I'm leaving Paris in early June? Well, I am. So it's as good a time as ever to share my nine other top eateries :) Semilla, Le Garde Robe, 3 Pièces Cuisine, Septime, Holybelly, Le Richer, Artisan, Caillebotte, Lockwood. Bon app !

P.S. The last time I dined in a pharmacy--also awesome.

femininity à la maison

Merci, madame. These words used to make me uncomfortable. Could I no longer be considered a mademoiselle? Had I become the only “ma’am” to be suspiciously carded outside a Parisian bar? (Yes, this really happened, and yes, the drinking age here is 18).

In every language, I’ve generally avoided calling myself “a woman.” I was a girl, a lady, sure, but not a woman. I didn’t believe I could handle the pressure or responsibility that comes with being one. I ain’t no Martha Stewart! And I don’t even usually talk like that. Then, this weekend, I read Rachel Jones’ recent article in The Atlantic, “Homemade is the New Organic.” Her brilliant premise: “I couldn’t help but consider how our attitudes surrounding domesticity, and its current post-feminist, Etsy-fied flavor, have changed our appreciation and definition of what constitutes a home-cooked meal.” Had I, too, fallen victim to believing the modern woman was still defined by her traditional roles of mother, wife, and otherwise humble yet multitalented caretaker? To an extent, yes.

I didn’t have a sexist upbringing... yet my dad worked late six days a week and my mom cleaned and cooked for us, in addition to working from home. She became a real estate agent when I was in high school as well. “Never mind that we are working longer hours and women are still responsible for making the majority of the meals in the home. We are inundated with recipes extolling the virtue of seasonal finds from the local farmer's market, or the health benefits native to exotic oils—good things in their own right.”

Although I wholeheartedly believe in feminist thought and speak up against present-day misogyny and our need to better support each other, in the end, maybe I want the job, the husband, the kids, and the dinner, too? But isn't that mostly okay? Shouldn't I be able to show love and affection through kitchen labors? Aren't I allowed to bake cookies for my coworkers, and be proud of myself for it (mostly because I successfully did so with a toaster oven)? I truly hope it's not any womanly label making me feel this way.

At the very least, it's certainly something to think about. “Home cooking has become warped by our fixation on doing it all and having it all—even in the kitchen.” This past Saturday, I went to a fabulous potluck dinner at Shola's. The culinary highlights: sweet potato-lentil soup, Persian samboosehs, and a plum tart; the latter prepared by a fellow grad student's pastry chef husband. And tonight, I'm thrilled to be hosting a "Breakfast for Dinner" party. On the menu: spinach salad with a pomegranate vinaigrette, hard-boiled eggs, and buttery pancakes with maple syrup and a warm cinnamon-apple compote. The question is: am I making everything moi-même? Not quite; it’ll only be a mostly homemade meal. I’ll come home from the office to a trusty American pancake mix :).

château vaux-le-vicomte

French nostalgia gets to me sometimes. I'd like to say, “I get it, your ancestors created enviable restaurants, furniture, clothes, paintings, films, literature, buildings, and more… but you're not inherently cultured because of it. You do not have the liberté to look down on the origins of others nor a valid excuse for resisting innovation and alternative thought. Please refrain from reinforcing a stereotype of snobbery, okay?" But then I take a deep breath, get off my own high horse, and visit Châteaux Vaux-le-Vicomte...

And I get it. Such a gorgeous castle! From the architecture to the fabrics, it's my favorite thus far. And the gardens, oh, the gardens. Thank God for Le Nôtre and the acres of beauty he left us. What an extraordinary Saturday afternoon we had at Châteaux Vaux-le-Vicomte because of it... which brings me back to my original thoughts on French nostalgia. Appreciating the past can be so much more positive a force than that of discriminatory remarks. In fact, "nostalgizing helps people relate their past experiences to their present lives in order to make greater meaning of it all," (Huffington Post). French or not, we can better inform our future by keeping history alive and reveling in its aestheticism; a constructive joie de vivre, if you will. There are few things more worthwhile.

les entrepreneurs

Last year, Forbes clarified one very important definition: "Entrepreneurs, in the purest sense, are those who identify a need—any need—and fill it. It’s a primordial urge, independent of product, service, industry or market." It's that risk and irreplaceable satisfaction that has attracted me to start-ups, time and time again. Yet, despite the French origins of the word (and the fact that I'm currently basking in entrepreneurial spirit at a Parisian start-up), entrepreneurship is hardly as prevelant here as it is in the U.S. Of course, that claim entirely depends on your social circles... and I've spent most of this week in the company of expat bloggers.

Monday night: the Words & Wine event. I arrived to a modern Parisian literary salon (Sylvia's apartment) complete with friendly faces, many bottles of wine, and sweet and savory bites. An hour or so later, Juliette read us an excerpt from "Dancing with Paris" and opened up a candid discussion on her writing process and career. Casual, inspiring conversation flowed freely after.

Wednesday night: the first National Kale Day international event. Kristen of The Kale Project joined forces with Laura and Braden of Verjus for an evening of wine and kale dishes. Lorelei met me there and we caught up over sublime glasses of chablis and pinot noir, in addition to fabulous spiced kale chips. I was thrilled to also chat with Lauren, Melanie, Anna, and Lisa, among others.

I can only speak from my American upbringing, but it makes sense to me that all these talented ladies are pursuing independent ventures abroad. I too was brought up with the encouragement to dream big and think outside the box. I was told it's okay to fail, as long as you take the lesson learned and do better next time. I'm aware that limited American regulations stimulate business (hello, neoliberalism), just as our weak welfare system drives efforts to reject the status quo--though I can't say I entirely agree with either.

Here, on the other hand, "just 15% of French respondents to a recent EU survey on attitudes toward entrepreneurship said they had started or taken over a business, or were planning to do so,"(qz) the lowest among the 27 European countries polled. Nonetheless, I'm not arguing that the French don't take creative chances. Mine are the opinions and observations of a non-expert of economics and culture. Not to mention that, "there is a stark difference between 'there are not enough prominent startups' and 'I do not know the startups,'" as Liam Boogar protested. All I'm saying is: it's pretty cool to live in a city where new ventures have yet to become blasé, and it's even more so to be fostering relationships with the amazing people behind them. Way to go, Paris.

how to get un-stuck

When I was at my lowest, following my first breakup, I spent hours researching international universities I could transfer to... because obviously a new home-away-from-home would make everything better. Similarly, while heading towards my last breakup, I blamed my dissatisfaction on the city of Paris and applied to a handful of jobs in London. I emailed a friend about my restlessness during that time, writing, "Note to self: a change of scenery doesn't solve all of life's woes." And it's true. I knew it even then. Though I trust with certainty that my tireless wanderlust is genuine and I embarked on this experience for all the right reasons, I'm also aware that those doubts and worries haunt me without concern as to whether I'm staying or going. It may be easier to run away from rather than face our inner demons, but the escape hardly sets us free. It's a lesson worth learning. So, assuming I'm not the only one struggling with "stuck" from time to time, I thought I'd share how I recently came to embrace "settled" instead.

{Paris}

It's never just "the way it is." The French love the phrase, and yet, ironically enough, it was Marie who offered me this reasoning. As much as you're busy, she told me, you still have time to do those little things that make you happier. Try a few new recipes, pick up running again, find low-commitment, and better yet, free events and activities that excite you. Don't let your mind get away with believing you're more "stuck" than you are. You play a vital role in dictating how good you feel in life right now.

{Malmö}

There is a bright side. While meandering through the Swedish countryside, I found myself complaining to Ariel Waldman about my restlessness. Why can't your flaw be your strength? she asked me. It's probably the force that's gotten you out into the world in the first place, the reason you have all these incredible experiences behind and ahead of you. Try celebrating it. If you're self-aware enough to know you're not quite where you want to be, then you now have the chance to better determine how to get there.

{ETSY}

Comparison is the thief of joy. Do not even think about comparing your current condition to that of a friend. Just... don't. Everyone is on their own unique journey. (Right, Christine?) No matter if you're hoping to build roots in the town that's always been your home or hoping to challenge comfort zones in a new city. As Lara reminds me frequently, both are okay, just as is every other plan of attack (fulfillment) in this game we call life. For me, this has always been the hardest part. I seek to explore the unknown with as much gusto as I long to revel in the familiar. I blame it on my Gemini-ness :). The thing is, our journey is as much up to us as it isn't. We must find a balance between keeping our eye on the prize and appreciating the gifts we've already been given.

New York Magazine's The Cut recently published Why I'm Glad I Quit New York at Age 24. I was especially drawn to it because I too left the city at 24--though I realize I didn't so much quit as much as New York and I took a break. I know I'll be back. I call myself an expat (...as I recently reflected in a comment on someone's blog! If you're the blogger or know who is, please let me know), but I'm hardly set on being one forever. As such, I was struck by Sara Tolzmann's critique of Ann Friedman's words:

"The article annoyed me for many reasons, but mostly because of this ridiculous notion that a place should make you happy, or that one is entitled to happiness outright. I think one of the enlightening truths unveiled to us as adults is that you must choose happiness, no matter the circumstances. It is not giftable, earnable, or stealable. It does not come from Instagram likes, blog comments or retweets (even though these are fun.) It does not live in the future or on an unreachable ("the next thing to come") horizon line. Everything is fleeting, and finding/keeping happiness takes work because of that."

Then I stumbled across How to be Home on Thought Catalog. The writer, Leslie Finlay, moved from New York to South Korea and aptly concludes that, "no matter where you go, you’re leaving behind a dependable life brimming with dependable people on dependable schedules." She nailed it, I thought to myself. That was the scariest part. The only thing scarier was settling for how stuck I had felt before leaving. And she continues with an enlightening conclusion that I couldn't have found more true:

"Because we can shift all across this planet, chase new experiences and take control of our own story, but at its core, our narrative only shifts so much. Every day we smile, plan, pursue our dreams. We drink too much, lose sleep, we turn off our phones and tune the world out to bad Netflix movies. We worry, we risk, we take the harrowing, damning chances to give all of ourselves to everything we do, to everyone we love, regardless of what we get in return."

Just as we are only as stuck as we let ourselves believe, we can also find comfort in letting go of unnecessary attachments and discovering that, "home is the people who remind you of who you are." Recently, I left a comment on Breanna Rose's blog about these positive relationships: "It’s interesting how life’s ebbs and flows can bring certain friends to the forefront while others take a seat back; and mostly, I mean this in the sense of who keeps in touch and continued support, and who, just, doesn’t. Those who matter most always find a way to stick around." Trust me when I tell you not only are you not actually stuck, you've got lots of support as you work to get out of it. And hey, good news: our lives are already unraveling just as they should.

the friendliest and unfriendliest

The other day, I stumbled upon a CN Traveler slideshow of the "friendliest" and "unfriendliest" cities in the world. To me, it's *BS. The accompanying article admits unfriendly "is a tough word to define," but I'd also argue that it's a deceiving description. Places aren't inherently unfriendly, people can be; and it's absolutely absurd to limit the entire population of a city--big or small--to one negative characteristic. Although I understand trying to visit places you expect to feel comfortable in (for the enjoyment of your travel experience, if nothing else), I also think it's important to realize that perceptions are hardly reflections of reality. End rant.

Please note that my anger above is a reflection of overwhelmingly positive experiences in unfamiliar cities. As much as I realize I'm lucky for having had them, I'm also aware that I'm not the only person in the universe to be treated with kindness and respect in various parts of the world. Good people exist everywhere, but not every city has such a grand artistic and gastronomic history (like that of Paris) to overcome the stereotypes placed upon them. Let's explore more, judge less :) and have wonderful weekends, deal?

the american dream

"Among the educated, enlightened, expensive middle classes of Europe, this [America is fat, stupid & ignorant] is a received wisdom. A given. Stronger in some countries like France, less so somewhere like Germany, but overall the Old World patronizes America for being a big, dumb, fat, belligerent child. The intellectuals, the movers and the makers and the creators, the dinner-party establishments of people who count, are united in the belief—no, the knowledge—that Americans are stupid, crass, ignorant, soul-less, naïve oafs without attention, irony, or intellect. These same people will use every comforting, clever, and ingenious American invention, will demand America’s medicine, wear its clothes, eat its food, drink its drink, go to its cinema, love its music, thank God for its expertise in a hundred disciplines, and will all adore New York." - A. A. Gill (Vanity Fair, July 2013).

The irony, I tell ya! (Many thanks to Olivia for sharing). Perhaps it's somewhat similar to the ways in which Americans can consider the French pretentious while unapologetically consuming the romance of Paris? To a lesser extent maybe ;). No matter where your opinions stand, I doubt one would be able argue against a Friday happy hour in Belleville that includes a cold apéro, warm sun, and this view. Had I known it could be so wonderful (and had I not been coming straight from work), I surely would've packed a picnic like the gents above. Gosh, I'm going to miss Paris for the next two and a half weeks. New York, here I come...!

how to stop shopping

Spending my college junior year abroad influenced me in a lot of ways; but perhaps the most significant is how good I became at not shopping. Having to eat out on weekends and wanting to travel then too made me more aware of my finances than I ever had been. I didn't wish to "waste" money on clothes and cosmetics like I had so easily before. Not to mention that I had such limited room in my suitcases, especially including gifts.

Shopping just wasn't a priority. And, it fell out of habit as a pastime. I've held onto such a mindset ever since.

{Appertizer: escargots de Bourgogne belle grosseur, buerre maison: a l'ail et au persil}

Why? Well, for one thing, I've never had a lot of money. I graduated from Syracuse University with debt and then went on to small internship/freelance paychecks. Yet I was always conscious of how important it was for me to learn more about the world; in my case, tasting new cuisines and visiting new places, both of which are ideally experienced with friends and family. I'm not alone in that either. Science has proven that, "experiential purchases, such as a meal out or theater tickets, result in increased well-being because they satisfy higher order needs, specifically the need for social connectedness and vitality--a feeling of being alive."

So, how? Know what you're saving for.  In this New York Times article, Ms. Liebmann of WSL Strategic Retail said, "before credit cards and cellphones enabled consumers to have almost anything they wanted at any time, the experience of shopping was richer." It's not necessary to stop spending all together (though that is an option, especially for those of us in extreme debt), but to be more critical about what it is we spend our money on so we can enjoy it more. A short-term example: before my friend's sister came to visit, I ate all meals at home so that I'd be able to afford to partake in the classic Parisian brasserie experience.

{Main dish: quenelle de brochet artisanale, sauce Nantua}

Buy from the list, quickly. Of course there are times when we do need particular things that can only be found on store's shelves. I tend to approach these situations with shopping lists as well as a time constraint. Without an extra 30 minutes to browse the aisles and/or racks, there are less chances for me to make compulsive purchases. By default then, I stick to basics and necessities. Such a big money saver!

Refuse to invest in remorse. No good will come from feeling bad about spending money, I promise. In this Fast Company article, Cali William Yost advises: "Make purchases that improve your happiness." Though I certainly understand the importance of savings accounts, more often than not, we work hard to use the money we make. That's why it's so important to do so wisely. In the past few years, for instance, I have always bought myself an outfit on my birthday. I can afford it as a single (not married, no children) twenty-something. And it's become a ritual I appreciate and look forward to. I'm thinking Naf Naf this 29th :).

{Dessert: baba au rhum, creme chantilly et glace rhum-raisin}

Anyway... shopping has been on my mind as I wrap up the second of three term papers. My topic? Critically analyzing how our roles as citizens have been reduced to those of consumer-advocates. There's a sense that we vote with our wallets, the "neoliberal assumption that capitalism itself can cure societies' ills," (Anderson 2008) and sadly, in most cases, it hasn't proven effective yet. Although I'll continue to choose ethically when I can, I've decided to actively try to participate in causes I care about, not simply purchase a logo that says I do.

how to brand yourself

Academic post alert! I'm currently studying "how online social networks have transformed the dynamics of personal interaction, organizational behavior, marketing, branding, social mobilization, and civic action" in a class of mine. Part of the coursework involves blogging about the articles we read and discussions we have. Below, you'll find just that. I encourage you to contribute your thoughts, too.

I feel like a cliché calling myself another "American in Paris," but it's an accurate label nonetheless. No matter the fact that I buy fresh bread from the boulangerie, shop at the marché when I can, and wear more black than ever before, I'm consistently reminded of the fact that I'm not French; if nothing else, then for my inability to completely embrace bad customer service ;). Because of this, too, I'm branded from the very start, whether it be by a Parisian or another expat. (For the record, I tend to clarify that I'm from New York.) It's had me thinking more and more about "my brand" then--both online and off.

 

In a 2009 New York Times article, Putting Yourself Out There on a Shelf to Buy, Alina Tugend wrote:

"But what if I don’t want to be a brand? What if I don’t want to build a public image and network? What if I like the security and camaraderie of being 'just' a worker in a company? Creating my own brand sounds as if it is potentially liberating. But that’s what we thought about managing our own retirements rather than relying on pensions and choosing a phone company rather than being stuck with Ma Bell. It turned out, though, that that kind of freedom comes with a lot more risks and responsibility."

Today, unfortunately or not, it's pretty irrelevant whether you the feel the same way as she does. The truth is, "to be in business today, our most important job is to be head marketer for the brand called You." And that's a direct quote from a 1997 Fast Company article. Stereotyping occurs anyway, now you can brand yours.

A recent Inc. article by Geoffrey James explains just how to Create your Personal Brand in 8 simple steps:

1. Know yourself and what you're good at.
2. Create a memorable brand name.
3. Capture your online turf.
4. Build a website for your domain name.
5. Set up automatic updating.
6. Share useful content on a regular basis.
7. Get feedback from people you trust.
8. Be authentic, even a bit risky.

In that case, (1) I think research, design, social media, (2) Does this count? (3-4) Check! (6-8) I promise I try.

It's a lot of pressure though, especially when you're so very aware of your brand as "an American in Paris." How could I possibly brand my multifaceted self--one who does actually "love art, food, wine, yoga, and travel" and wishes "to improve the ways in which the world communicates" in order to  promote global understanding--in just 140 characters? I can hardly wrap my head around this identity of mine myself.

Tonight I went to the "Communications via Social Media" panel thanks to the7eme, an online student publication. "Employers want to know what you can do... so go out and start doing things," advised the professor for this very class. To which Meg added, "don't be afraid to talk about what you've done. It can open a lot of unexpected doors." In the end, "people will search for you online, so it's important to take part in that conversation, and having your own website can be a great way to put your best foot forward." said Matt Cutts in a PBS' MediaShift article. Phew, at least that part's covered. Now for those business cards...

[Photos from Versailles, where my boy resides]

never have I ever

With my countdown to Paris at a mere 6 days, I've been thinking more and more about my future there. My graduate program requires a thesis or for-credit internship in the final semester and I have yet to figure out which one I'd prefer. My only comfort is that at least I know what direction I want to go in, kind of.

Before I studied abroad in Strasbourg, France, I'd never had Lebanese food. And before I moved to Paris for graduate school, I'd never pursued a possible future with an international philanthropic organization.

{vegetarian mezze}

I don't think it's a coincidence that the majority of my friends have careers in which they're directly helping people--whether it be through medicine, research, journalism, therapy, non-profits, etc. I seem to be attracted to those who do good in the world. It's surprising I never believed myself to be one of them until now.

A few months ago, my advisor noted how my educational path thus far has been unique since I started out so speciality-focused and am only now broadening my study horizons. He's right, but I can't imagine it having gone any other way. Although my professional degree is in magazine journalism, travel seminars exposed me to human rights in a whole new light. Even before then, in high school, I hosted exchange students and participated in leadership programs. And thanks to Girl Scouts, I've volunteered for most of my life.

{mint tea}

Not to mention the need for good work: Polio is still an epidemic in three countries. There is only one book per 300 children in some low-income neighborhoods in the U.S. One in seven girls in developing countries marry before the age of 15. Worldwide, 1.7 billion people live in poverty and 800 million people live without clean water. The American Red Cross responds to 70,000 disasters each year. (Statistics from this month's Marie Claire.)

Last semester, I had the amazing opportunity to intern at UNESCO. It was such an experience to work with people from so many different countries with such impressive professional backgrounds. And to be honest, most of the time, I feel that way in the company of my fellow grad students. Though notably younger, each one of us came to Paris with unique portfolios and inspirational motivations; like the birthday girl from the special occasion dinner above. I look forward to seeing where 2013 takes us.

stories on layaway

My first four months living in Paris have been strenuous to say the least. I meant to entertain you with my introduction to the dating scene, give you a tour of a French market, share how I was trying to be a "good expat", and tell you more about the internship I believe I only hinted at on Twitter. Yet many of my day-to-day anecdotes got lost in the shuffle of the adjustment period. Would you mind if I said I'd put them on layaway?

They'll be ready very, very soon, I promise. In the mean time, a few fun facts I've learned so far in 2013:

• Despite the fact that the Czech are incredibly creative when it comes to their postage stamps (see vast selection in the photo above), the system itself leaves much to be desired. My brother and sister have yet to receive the post cards I sent them nearly two weeks ago!
• 590: year Pope Gregory I invented a post-sneeze prayer--"God bless you"--as sneezing was considered an early sign of the plague.
• 1301: year the first guild of barbers was established in France, creating a union of sorts for hairdressers and surgeons. The two groups argued about overlapping duties, and it was decided surgeons couldn't treat the hair or scalp.
• 1858: year a Brooklyn woman invented an inset, made of coiled wire and padding, for a corset that made the breasts look bigger. She filled the pads with bark, grass, or curled hair, which she believed would be sweat-resistant.
• 2013: first year since 1987 to have four different numbers.

(Middle three facts courtesy of recent issues of Allure magazine--I'm catching up while I'm home).

the seahorse tavern

"Seahorses are truly unique, and not just because of their unusual equine shape. Unlike most other fish, they are monogamous and mate for life. Rarer still, they are among the only animal species on Earth in which the male bears the unborn young." Another fun fact from National Geographic? "Food passes through their digestive systems so quickly, they must eat almost constantly to stay alive."

Must be kind of nice to be a seahorse, huh? I'd agree, except for the fact that their average life span is only 1-5 years. Anyway :) last night I had the utmost pleasure of meeting my roommate Catherine and our friend Nihara at The Seahorse Tavern.

I've walked by this casual neighborhood gem a million times, but it wasn't until I noticed it featured on ScoutMob (with a 50% off deal) that I decided to dine here for a special weeknight meal with friends. Silly, silly girl.

They aren't kidding when they claim to serve the freshest of locally sourced seafood. The owner, Karl Feldmann has practically spent his entire career working with it. For almost ten years he was the head of a full-service fresh and frozen whole fish purveyor, then he became the Director of Buying for The Lobster Place NYC, and eventually, he founded The Seahorse Tavern with others.

To start, we shared a half-dozen fresh oysters of assorted East/West coast origins. The largest one is a Blue Point oyster which Catherine so bravely defeated...

For my entrée, I enjoyed the Atlantic salmon (pan roasted salmon, wilted kale and wild mushroom ragout with braised leeks and violette mustard sauce). It was, in a word, sublime. Nihara and Catherine's dishes were incredibly good too:

[Yorkville Burger (fresh ground sirloin, grilled to your specifications, served with roasted tomatoes, choice of cheese, and tavern fries)]

[Mussels Muniere (the New England classic of Prince Edward Island mussels served with white wine and garlic butter), brussels sprouts side]

By the end of the meal, we were comfortably satisfied (and on our third glass of wine) so when the waiter asked if we wanted dessert, we decided to split one. Unfortunately, our otherwise lovely dining experience became tainted by a less than stellar mixed berry trifle. Fortunately, the restaurant did their best to redeem themselves by removing it from the check and sending over a round of shots. Yes, shots. Would you believe me if I told you it was the second time this has happened to me in a week? They were completely unnecessary, yet we took them all the same. Our four-hour visit to The Seahorse Tavern made for a very happy Tuesday.

Honestly though, I woke up with a headache this morning. I haven't mentioned it but it's probably because I really, truly have far too much on my mind. As such, I am going to end this post with two tokens of wisdom from Grey's Anatomy's Meredith Grey, "however you feel is okay" and "at some point, you just have to let go, move on, because no matter how painful it is... it's the only way we grow." Phew, change is scary. Let's just keep swimming, okay?