tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216872522012-01-18T15:52:38.822-08:00Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.comBlogger971100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-20136922467184459942012-01-18T09:58:00.001-08:002012-01-18T09:58:02.562-08:00

Dear Baby Girl, In a matter of days, you and I will finally end this uncomfortable and miserable final stretch of pregnancy and finally meet face to face. Can you believe it? 38 1/2 weeks Yeah. Neither can I. I have heard these rumors of taking advantage of pregnancy, as if the last nine months were meant to be filled with unlimited backrubs, long naps, and indulging in cravings of

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-76348358091130424562012-01-11T15:00:00.001-08:002012-01-11T15:00:28.339-08:00

I think it should be a requirement that all happy families pay a visit to IKEA – extra credit for a weekend outing, and double extra credit if it’s because you are frantically furnishing a room for a baby arriving in less than three weeks. Really, there’s nothing quite like it to guarantee an abrupt end to that sickening lovey-dove behavior you’ve been exhibiting up until now. Besides, forget

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-3070012681286128272012-01-03T09:42:00.001-08:002012-01-03T20:06:55.620-08:00

Another year, come and gone. I always take time to reflect on the past year, all the wonderful things I’ve experienced and learned, and my goals for the bright, shining upcoming year. This year I kicked a movie star, experience a loss of a truly amazing friend and cousin, and celebrated keeping my daughter alive for one full year. I took more plane rides than my budget allowed, travelling from

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-25003759322616783592011-12-15T15:21:00.001-08:002011-12-15T15:40:47.501-08:00

When I first got the idea to post pictures of things I’d miss when I left Los Angeles – I thought I would struggle coming up with something substantial, and instead be limited to posting photos of the traffic: The fact that it took me two hours to drive 20 miles over “the hill” on Sepulveda Blvd in order to get to work on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Or, the fact that it can often take

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-65509351968804399952011-12-08T21:06:00.001-08:002011-12-08T21:06:55.457-08:00

Daisy & I (and our dog, Casey) are staying with my parents for a few weeks while we transition the move up to Northern California. While J needed to move up north immediately to start his new job, I needed to stay back and finish the semester and help finalize the last of the move. Daisy has always slept in her crib. From night one. In fact, I can only remember a handful of times she slept with

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-57837353085188009002011-11-24T10:55:00.001-08:002011-11-24T10:55:48.763-08:00

I have a million posts that I need to write: how today is the last day in the house in which we’ve spent the last seven years. The home we came to after our honeymoon, the house where we brought Daisy home from the hospital, the house where our sweat, blood and a few tears reside in the kitchen title and the backyard flagstone, except that today is Thanksgiving. So, in order to keep my compulsive

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-57251901027554369072011-11-16T20:48:00.001-08:002011-11-16T20:48:33.994-08:00

It's been a while since we got back from the nation’s capital and I haven't even told you anything about it. Because of the insane week which followed the trip, it seems like an eternity ago that J and I ran a marathon. But, the trip was---as you would imagine a vacation with a toddler while completing a marathon and starting your third trimester to be, ---rather exhausting. However, I haven’t

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-33887906440071223762011-09-28T17:30:00.001-07:002011-09-29T13:29:31.724-07:00

I think I briefly mentioned a few months ago that J and I are training for a marathon next month. Did you read that correctly? NEXT MONTH. This means that our conversations around our house these days revolve around what type of Gu packet we’ll try for this week’s training run, our latest strategy for staying on pace, and chafing issues (ahh, so romantic.) Also, I might not have mentioned

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-16585153416870039312011-09-12T09:03:00.001-07:002011-09-12T09:03:37.152-07:00

It's September 11th, ten years ago, and we had just had our first date the weekend before, a date to play tennis at nearby courts, in which you were over an hour late to pick me up. Oh, we are so far then from where we are now – married, a mortgage, a daughter, and another on the way. It’s late summer in the Sacramento valley, and I’m just a restless senior in college who is not quite ready to

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-7946159666492391412011-08-29T08:00:00.001-07:002011-09-01T07:28:40.612-07:00

Dear Daisy, On Sunday you turned eighteen months old. At your 18-month doctor’s appointment you measured 32”, but are still a tiny 21 pounds. This puts you in the solidly in the 60th percentile for height, and the 10th percentile for weight. The past six months have been a whirlwind of activity: cross-country airplane rides, weddings, the stomach bug, summer colds, morning sickness, summer

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-15274121583770847322011-08-12T13:55:00.001-07:002011-08-12T13:57:46.528-07:00

Today is a much-needed quiet and lazy day in the Chez Stars home. Every since my summer break started we’ve been running around with errands, and appointments, cleaning, and lots of play dates. Breakfast today was Greek yogurt mixed with peaches, fresh from the farmers market and homemade oatmeal bread slathered with leftover raspberry honey butter. After a bit of futzing around the house,

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-88242137053366837212011-08-05T15:22:00.001-07:002011-08-05T15:23:43.995-07:00

pool parties. bernstein bear books. cherry tomatoes. finger paint. sunscreen. shaded parks. zucchini. summer squash. eggplant. early morning long walks. the beach. waves. Minnesota. lesson planning. heirloom tomato caprese sandwiches. a birthday. grading papers. oven baked ratatouille. Monterey. pilates. fresh basil. afternoon naps. Giant’s baseball. air-conditioning. warm sand. dance parties.

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-25393791353973645822011-07-15T18:17:00.001-07:002011-07-15T18:17:12.731-07:00

How lame is it when people go “sorry, I haven’t posed, I’ve been busy?” Yeah, that’s pretty lame, right? The thing is, I have been busy; I’ve been so insanely busy that yesterday I didn’t even make the bed, and if you know me at all, you know I’m the kind of person who, even if the bed has been unmade all day, MAKES IT IN THE EVENING BEFORE SHE GETS BACK INTO IT TO SLEEP. Yep, that’s the kind of

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-70989454613152997562011-06-10T08:12:00.001-07:002011-06-10T08:12:48.418-07:00

I’ve always had this little love affair with Maine. It may be the remoteness of the state, the harsh climate, or perhaps it’s through my dad’s happy childhood memories relayed to me. However, it very well may be that this love affair has manifested through my obsession with blueberries as 90% of the nations blueberry crops come from Maine. Regardless of the origins, in my mind, Maine is filled

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-73401167507896695492011-06-01T16:39:00.001-07:002011-06-01T16:39:22.633-07:00

Have you ever had one of those weeks that never seems to end? I do not mean that in a bad way, really. Sometimes it just happens, you know? It’s only Wednesday, and yet I’m ready for Friday. I am blaming Memorial Day Weekend. Having a nice relaxing three-day weekend usually causes ruckus during the following four-day work week. Also, I blame end-of-semester fever, as this is the last week of

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-4468146949247843032011-05-26T06:17:00.001-07:002011-05-26T06:19:04.636-07:00

I shot this image with my camera phone on the airplane home from Boston. Daisy was so thoroughly exhausted from the whirlwind long weekend trip to Maine, complete with a not-quite-redeye flight after a long day wandering the streets of Salem, MA. She finally succumbed to a fitful slumber sprawled out across our laps. The weekend was full of sleep like this: a nap while being carried in the

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-83336051787160991552011-05-18T08:22:00.001-07:002011-05-18T08:27:17.562-07:00

When an opportunity presented itself to allow J and I to go on a overnight to San Luis Obispo while Daisy stay with her paternal grandparents, we jumped at the chance. As well as being a sort of anniversary do-over, this trip was going to be our great escape from the never-ending diaper changing. A night to eat dinner out, sans high chair, to eat something spicy, drink copious amounts of wine,

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-12491576719206953932011-05-11T20:40:00.000-07:002011-05-13T13:37:55.982-07:00

If you’re a dreamer, come in. If you’re a dreamer, a wisher, a liar. A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer… If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire. For we have some fla-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in! Not to get all English major on you, but do you know that poem “Invitation” by Shel Silverstein? Don’t worry, there isn’t a particularly reason you should; it is the first poem

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-53289401108818636392011-04-16T16:12:00.001-07:002011-04-16T21:32:18.913-07:00

playdates. cuddling. oranges handpicked from a neighbor’s tree.  chalk pictures. fresh-baked Vermont cheddar bread. long slow afternoon walks. early morning fast runs. roasted garlic soup. gardening. strawberries. lemon ricotta pound cake. weeding. blackberry lemonade. dirt. endless essay grading. planting. seeds. lesson planning. writing. reading. three-hour doctor appointments. lemons. green

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-5059582282193584772011-04-10T14:41:00.001-07:002011-04-10T14:46:18.147-07:00

One of my goals for Spring Break – ie: the ten days in April where I ignore the toppling stack of badly written essays, and instead catch up on a month’s worth of Grey’s Anatomy – was to teach myself Windows Movie Maker. Goals! On Vacation! I know! What is the world coming to? But, man cannot live by Grey’s Anatomy alone, it turns out, even when those DVR recordings are substituted with long

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-68109753037644410872011-03-26T12:58:00.001-07:002011-03-26T12:58:20.497-07:00

So my mother told me that I wasn’t allowed to write a special 60th birthday post for my dad because it would make him sad and weepy, and then he’d have to close his office door and have a little cry, and that could get kind of embarrassing for him, because henceforth – I would imagine – no one would take him seriously in meetings. And so I promised that I wouldn’t. And yet it’s his 60th

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-29590362157902480402011-03-21T20:16:00.001-07:002011-03-22T06:11:35.174-07:00

All day Sunday---nay, pretty much all weekend---I disinfected my house because of this retched cold harboring in the nose and chest of my sweet little girl. A cold in a baby, for the uninitiated, basically turns your always cheerful, independent little angel into a whining, snot-covered little ogre. And, if there is one thing that I despise about motherhood, something I completely and utterly

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-82401426017614864612011-03-02T17:04:00.001-08:002011-03-02T17:04:57.912-08:00

Dear Daisy, On Monday, you turned one. At twelve months of age, you are my little peanut sizing up to 28 inches long, but only 17 pounds and 10 ounces. The pediatrician informed me that I should start giving you a small milkshake everyday to boost up your caloric intake to which you responded with a resounding “yah, mama.” Obviously, this letter is a little later than usual; I blame this

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-1812349891072685152011-02-23T15:35:00.001-08:002011-02-23T15:35:44.039-08:00

When Daisy first began cruising, I could barely contain my excitement. What I did not realize then that the learning to cruise was not the milestone I should have been thrilled about; learning to cruise ALONE was. For the past several weeks, we’ve walked in circles around the living room, up and down the patio, at the park. No matter where, she wanted to walk, and she wanted to walk with her

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-91908782517547245722011-02-15T06:45:00.001-08:002011-02-15T06:53:00.872-08:00

My cousin Andy, a generous and passionate soul, died last week at the age of 35 after a yearlong battle to Stage IV Lung Cancer. I have seen Andy so many times in the past few weeks – except when I’ve got closer, it’s never been Andy at all. I have dreamed about him a lot too, but when I’ve woken up, the dream has always slipped away. This past weekend, we had a funeral and memorial service

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-88878958750552735162011-01-31T13:14:00.001-08:002011-01-31T13:14:03.643-08:00

How many loved your moments of glad grace, and loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face. – Y.B. Yeats These days Daisy is always in ten places at once. She is crawling all over the house, pulling herself up on the coffee table and perusing the library books we checked out last week. She is peering out the

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-14574086594484472822011-01-26T18:09:00.001-08:002011-01-27T07:12:34.427-08:00

I have decided that I cannot possibly go to the cinema anymore (I get a secret thrill about calling it the cinema as it makes me feel very sophisticated. Please don’t judge.) When you go to the cinema, you see, you are entirely too dependent on the people around you to be reasonable and sane, quiet and somewhat still. Most people in the cinema are reasonable and sane, of course, but every now and

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-84367314334507328812011-01-11T09:15:00.001-08:002011-01-11T15:12:31.178-08:00

The first thing you should know about me is that I am not – nope, not in the slightest – someone you would call star struck. I am not a religious People Magazine, US Weekly or Star Magazine reader. I only know a handful of celebrity names and faces. And lastly, I am usually completely oblivious to the world around me. For example, several years ago I sat next to Tara Reid at a Mexican restaurant

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-29666899201763571452010-12-31T14:12:00.001-08:002010-12-31T14:13:45.118-08:00

So, today is The Big Day, New Year’s Eve, and tradition dictates that I am suppose to reflect on the previous year and list resolutions for the coming year. However, I extremely dislike the term “resolution” it sounds so cliché, plus it just means that the gym is going to be crowded for the next month. In years past the California Stars household made goals, SMART goals, according to

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-67477100913252678582010-12-22T08:24:00.001-08:002010-12-22T09:40:48.791-08:00

The pub was packed, patrons spilling out into the square off Geary Street, and it was raining. Not the normal drizzly rain that is typical of Ireland in the spring, but solid raindrops that splatter when they hit the sidewalk. I can hardly remember the pub name, or who was with us, but I do remember we danced. The music was barely heard over the rumble of the people milling about, we were on a

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-53456020952810108092010-11-30T20:36:00.001-08:002010-12-01T19:45:01.352-08:00

Dear Daisy, This past Sunday you turned nine months old, nine months. I can barely believe it. You are 27 inches long, and you weigh 16 pounds, 11 ounces, roughly in the 30th percentile of your peers. I stumbled to get you from your crib and carried you back to bed with me. Your father and I snuggled with you after your early morning nursing session, enjoying our last morning of the long

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-43346307923332425672010-11-24T08:10:00.001-08:002010-11-24T08:12:18.939-08:00

My world revolves around three things: books, music and food. And I guess, since having a baby, now Daisy. But, the best part is that I get to incorporate Daisy into my three previous loves. Well, except food. She and I don’t see eye to eye just yet in the food department. She goes crazy for pureed squash and mashed avocado, while I prefer something with a bit more substance, like filet mignon

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-87496607955955778892010-11-08T18:21:00.001-08:002010-11-08T18:21:59.784-08:00

A few things that probably aren’t okay: Roughly 60% of my motivation for attending my ballet/yoga class is the massive amounts of chocolate I can consume after class without feeling guilty. I have starting using hoover and facebook in my regular vocabulary. As verbs. One of my students is convinced that he and his brothers are taller than the rest of his Mexican countrymen because they eat

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-81409739487848219982010-10-19T10:26:00.001-07:002010-10-19T10:26:52.071-07:00

Internet, did I tell you that I now have my mom’s old piano sitting in my living room? It was my 30th birthday present from my parents. The reason I tell you this, is because at 6:00pm when Daisy is both screaming (actually, it’s more of a screeching) and crying one of the only things that keep her quiet is playing “A few of my favorite things” over and over and over on the piano. I am

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-65180476821507119992010-10-13T10:25:00.001-07:002010-10-14T08:12:57.906-07:00

In large part just because it’s October, but to some extent because we’ve got the holidays looming and am chomping at the bit for something I can control, I have been tidying up my life for the last week or so. I have cleaned out my closet with extraordinary results, and though I have yet to take the bag of donations to the thrift store down the street, I have got plans to do so soon, and I think

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-83532924502965354442010-09-28T15:16:00.001-07:002010-09-29T07:21:15.938-07:00

Dear Andy, This morning before the insane heat set in, I went for a long walk. Daisy was sleeping in the Ergo, Casey was running ahead off-leash, and my iPod started playing Beautiful Day by U2, although it really isn’t a beautiful day with the smoke and the heat, but anyways, it made me think of you. These days I try not to let my mind stray too far from the task at hand for fear of the tears

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-75633987204347648672010-09-04T09:07:00.001-07:002010-09-04T09:09:11.380-07:00

“No man needs a vacation so much as the man who has just had one."   ---Mark Twain Two weeks ago I was hiking to this: Drinking cold, fruity, adult beverages: Stopping to admire the view of these: Keeping my eyes peeled for some of these: And spending my days with my two favorite people: Our little family holiday was lovely, and by the time we reached Santa Fe I felt

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-24315962347937466502010-08-31T15:34:00.001-07:002010-08-31T15:34:39.311-07:00

One of my favorite parts of parenthood has been watching the relationship between Daisy & J develop. There has been an instant bond since the moment they laid eyes on each other, and the highlight of Daisy’s day is when her Daddy comes walking through the front door in the evening. Typically, she progressively becomes more fussy throughout the afternoon and then, just as the situation becomes

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-20516486922682207532010-08-28T16:28:00.001-07:002010-08-31T17:36:08.961-07:00

Today you hit the six-month mark. At six months you are 15.1 pounds and 25.5 inches long. This means it’s been approximately 182 days since my whole world changed, and the last month has been particularly exciting. We went on our first family vacation, you went to daycare, you ate your first solid foods, and you can now sit completely unassisted for short periods of time. You acquire new skills

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-32561251928994290922010-08-04T18:13:00.001-07:002010-08-04T18:18:07.336-07:00

I don’t know how you go about celebrating something, but here in the California Stars house, our celebrations include champagne and pizza. We’re classy folks. What are we celebrating, you ask? Well, for one, we are celebrating J’s new job – excuse me, J’S! NEW! JOB! – which was a long time coming and which we are both thrilled to bits about. Why are we thrilled you ask? Well, frankly because

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-43372853117593776952010-07-08T16:07:00.001-07:002010-07-08T16:22:33.395-07:00

So, apparently Lindsey Lohan and I share a birthday two days, and ahem, 6 years apart. This is depressing to say the least. But, at least I do not have to spend the rest of summer behind bars sporting a bleep-worthy manicure. A decision I’m sure she is now regretting. But, alas, I had a wonderful birthday which began the weekend before the “big day,” with a surprise trip to my second favorite

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-12789452719390306682010-06-30T16:27:00.001-07:002010-06-30T16:28:59.370-07:00

Because I am the turning the big 3-0, I thought I should compile a list of the best advice I’ve ever received – from friends, family, and popular culture. Seriously. Why are you even worrying about this? (J) If there’s a Côtes du Rhône on the wine list, order that. (My friend Mark, the chef) Alright, so now you know the importance of pressing “save” every five minutes. (My college

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-60977309954601493872010-06-24T16:08:00.001-07:002010-06-28T11:57:08.000-07:00

On Monday you will be four months old. Just thinking this makes my heart flutter. At four months of age, you are 25 inches long, and you weigh nearly 14 pounds, ounces  shy of doubling your birth weight. You are both perfectly average and wonderfully extraordinary. Your eyes have transitioned from the stunning violet blue at birth to a deep, dark brown. This is a perfect example of how

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-5174695376236544022010-06-16T16:21:00.001-07:002010-06-17T13:41:03.084-07:00

So how was your weekend? Mine was eventful. Here is why it was eventful: Daisy was baptized! Baptisms’ are rather eventful, aren’t they, what with all consecrating Daisy to the Lord, promising to raise her to believe in Him, plus all the frantic weed pulling so that your guests don’t think you live in a jungle. J is convinced, actually, that I only invited people over for brunch after the baptism

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-76813574864037241392010-05-24T08:56:00.001-07:002010-05-24T08:56:53.305-07:00

I stepped off the train from Paris. A little over two hours earlier I arrived at St-Lazare station and headed northwest. I had no itinerary, no agenda, no car. I looked around train station in Caen, and immediately spotted him. Standing in the corner, quietly, amidst the throngs of people, was a man. He was close to 80, I’d say – mid-70’s, perhaps, but certainly no younger – and he was wearing a

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-86778305873976667242010-05-12T15:38:00.001-07:002010-05-12T15:38:46.159-07:00

I’ve been packing away old pictures, reorganizing new pictures, and cleaning out the photos on my hard drive the past few weeks. And, since I’m spending all sorts of quality time with my teenage mementoes, I thought I’d share with my fans a “Five Things You Don’t Know About Me – Now With Embarrassing Pictures!” which, due to my coke-bottle glasses during the 90s and my veritable minefield of

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-37794845720228368472010-05-03T17:52:00.001-07:002010-05-03T17:52:15.787-07:00

So I’m not dead. You know, in case you were wondering. I haven’t been lying in a ditch on the side of the road and I haven’t even been, like, eaten by wolves or something cool like that. Or wildebeests, that would be even cooler. Nope, I haven’t been dead these past three weeks; I’ve just been pinned down under the weight of an 11 pound newborn, as well as writing, writing and more writing for

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-27820640578741208112010-04-08T11:26:00.001-07:002010-04-08T11:26:11.575-07:00

In honor of our five year anniversary I thought we should renew our vows. Five years ago today we said traditional vows in a church in front of our friends and family. But since then we have remolded a moldy house, travelled to far-flung places, adopted a puppy and had a baby. So, I thought a renewal was definitely in order. These would be my vows: I, Sara, take you, J, to be my lawfully

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-8833027103809163102010-03-30T12:16:00.001-07:002010-03-30T12:16:31.660-07:00

The day I leave for the next four years, my mother makes me a big breakfast. We packed the small U-Haul trailer the night before and the next morning the four of us leave together, my parents, brother and me packed into the white Blazer, my childhood bedroom jammed into the trailer, everything clearly labeled with my name. We drive I-5, a route I learn to simultaneously love and hate. We pass

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-88475699359673839502010-03-15T13:18:00.001-07:002010-03-15T13:18:57.664-07:00

Forgive me Internet for my lack of posting, but the newest member of our household arrived two weeks ago, and has consumed my every waking moment (and even my sleeping moments!) Instead of giving you the same ‘ol birth story (which now, I know every birth is different, but essentially they are all the same), I am stealing the idea for the posted blog below from Becoming Sarah. Sarah writes about

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-83692084512239880982010-02-26T12:07:00.001-08:002010-02-26T12:07:08.200-08:00

We have been glued to the television these past two weeks watching the Olympic coverage on NBC, and I have to say some of the commentators’ quotes have us hysterically laughing, and one or two of these quotes have made it into our everyday vernacular. 1. It’s lights out “for that guy” (NBC’s Olympic Coverage of the Biathlon) 2. Cause that’ll upset the apple cart (NBC’s Olympic Coverage of the

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-15454108517992087332010-02-16T12:31:00.001-08:002010-02-17T07:34:07.143-08:00

So this pregnancy has successfully gone full term, and what I mean by that is I am officially four days away from my due date. Well done, little Rossini, WELL DONE. J and I (and some major help from my Mom) spent most of the weekend preparing the house for this little munchkin. Baby clothes washed? Check. Changing station organized? Check. Car seat installed? Check. Freezer full of convenience

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-39702204414193723552010-01-21T12:05:00.001-08:002010-01-21T12:39:53.976-08:00

Hey, did you know that today is National Delurking day? (well, I think it is, after a quick Google search there are several days in question.) According to Urban Diction, “delurk” is defined as “entering an online discussion after a time spent lurking, especially if prompted to do so.” (yes, yes, that was the English nerd coming out of me. Although, my English professors might snub their nose at

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-42187493820541811162010-01-12T10:58:00.001-08:002010-01-12T10:58:08.097-08:00

Man, has the weather has glorious this past week. While the rest of the country is dealing with blizzards, major snowstorms, gray skies and rain, in sunny So Cal we’ve had mercury in the mid-70’s and beautiful blue skies. It feels more like we just celebrated Easter rather than Christmas.  A combination of leftovers and Chuck reruns meant we were wide awake earlier than most of our fellow

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-25426115684654249652009-12-31T13:48:00.001-08:002009-12-31T13:48:26.094-08:00

So today is New Year's Eve and tradition dictates that I am suppose to reflect on the previous year and list goals of the next year; although I’m not normally like that especially after I learned that only 5% of resolutions are kept. I figured “why bother?” When I was younger, though, I used to set aside time the week before New Years to fill my journal with my adolescent drama and musings

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-77743578507983125612009-12-24T06:37:00.000-08:002009-12-24T06:41:48.416-08:00

A very merry Christmas postHappy Christmas, Internet! I hope you all have a wonderful day with the people you love, giving and receiving fantastic presents, drinking lots of champagne, laughing your head off, and eating your weight in cookies, chocolate and ham. Which is exactly how I plan on spending tomorrow. (well, minus the champagne. But, please do drink a glass or two of bubbly for me. I

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-45652308096882896652009-12-24T06:34:00.001-08:002009-12-24T06:34:35.713-08:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-65575798599320588492009-12-21T10:49:00.001-08:002009-12-21T10:49:16.863-08:00

I religiously read National Geographic’s Intelligent Travel Blog, in fact I can’t start my day without reading through their daily post. It’s like my Wall Street Journal. Anyways, ITB recently launched a new series, “My City Celebrates,” a spin off their “I Heart My City,” which I participated in last spring. As I love the holidays, and am resolved to making the most of my time in LA I thought it

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-66852619703530666632009-12-14T15:21:00.001-08:002009-12-14T15:21:18.676-08:00

Are you guys watching this show, Community that is. I mean, honestly, it’s hilarious. We thought we’d start recording it, purely because it was on Thursday night, and we’re still loyal to NBC on this particular night. Plus, we thought it would make a nice warm-up for our evening – but now I would hasten to go out on a limb and suggest that perhaps we like Community even better than The Office

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-59018820132578336842009-12-08T14:25:00.001-08:002009-12-08T18:33:12.780-08:00

Me? Obsessive? Is the pope Catholic? Is Edward Cullen a vampire? Is red wine the nectar of the gods? Is Tiger Woods seriously cheating on his supermodel wife? Well, just a little bit then, yes. Having spent the morning trying to get the measurements on photo sizes on my latest Blurb book (why yes, I just caught up with my 2008 photos, and my Alaska vacation!), but not so perfectly aligned that it

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-72779593181165249332009-11-25T14:22:00.001-08:002009-11-25T14:22:59.471-08:00

Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and in the spirit of the holiday I have decided to list (what can I say…I love me some list-making) what I’m thankful for this year. 1. My deliciously geeky husband who will watch obscure European films with me, clean the hair out the bathroom drain WITHOUT COMPLAINING and who’ll never let me go to sleep mad. 2. My parents who plan their vacations three years in

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-23427057289512343502009-11-24T09:26:00.001-08:002009-11-24T09:26:20.874-08:00

We’ve been cleaning out our closets, garage and bookshelves in the Rossini household to make way for the newest family member arriving. This has led to some serious discussions on what to keep, box up or goodwill (yes, I just made Goodwill a verb), especially in the way of books. It’s no secret that J and I love books, and are running out of room for them! We need a bigger house, not because of

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-27305105933521849142009-11-12T08:19:00.001-08:002009-11-12T08:19:26.195-08:00

I remember one of the very first times I hung out with my friend Lara. We were freshmen in college, and she being cool enough to have a car and was gracious enough to drive me home so that I didn’t have to take the bus after track practice (well, I think it was track practice). See, we knew each other around the locker room as we both ran, and I believe we had a math class together where we

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-10587818710102584552009-10-28T15:20:00.001-07:002009-10-28T15:23:21.869-07:00

This weekend was taken up with quite a few baby-type errands. Well, namely one: starting a proper registry. Saturday mid-morning (after a deliciously homemade buttermilk waffle breakfast) we headed out to posh Calabasas to Babies “R” Us. Why did we trek all the way up there you ask? Well, mainly because we avoid doing any shopping in Van Nuys, trust me on this. Registering is...wow, registering

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-72348656632283837892009-10-13T17:49:00.001-07:002009-10-13T17:49:47.963-07:00

So, my beloved’s birthday was this past weekend and I was going to write a sappy post about how he means to me, how much I love him, blah, and blah, blah. But, I thought my fans (yes, I do believe I have fans): a) Already know this about me b) Think it would be boring. c) Would be nauseous. And honestly, I tell J nearly every day how much I love him and how much I love being married to

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-63174050000260602662009-10-01T11:00:00.001-07:002009-10-01T11:00:25.729-07:00

Yesterday, hump day, was sort of a bad day. Not the end-all-be-all bad day, where you get laid off or hear devastating life-changing news, but more like a series of small irritations, that, cumulatively, had me wanting to cry and yell in both the same breath and then me quickly wanting to race home, put my pajamas on and pretend the day never existed. You know the day: horrific traffic, bad hair,

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-34671139180926066122009-09-16T14:53:00.001-07:002009-09-17T13:04:50.408-07:00

So getting back to reality, the Alaskan cruise was fantastic. I settled on reading Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen. The writing was superb, the story line unique and I loved the seamless transition from past to present, but I was not expecting such a downer of a book. Horses dying, elephants getting beaten, poverty, and death all wrapped up in the post-depression circus. Perhaps not the best

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-37414323138690621192009-09-04T16:28:00.001-07:002009-09-04T16:28:26.957-07:00

I’m trading in a view of this: for a view of this: Well, I’m all ready for my Alaskan cruise tomorrow. By ready, of course, I mean that I’ve laid out my jeans, sweatshirts, and bought three different kinds of hard candies to help ward of nausea. I’ve also narrowed down my reading selection from five paperbacks to three. You see, I am usually the best of the best of light packers. But, I

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-75030096046686189012009-08-21T13:30:00.001-07:002009-08-24T14:50:00.958-07:00

I was extremely lucky to have lived in the same two-story house my entire childhood. Not only was nearly my entire extended family within a ten mile radius, but I developed lifelong friendships. With back-to-school sales, and little kids with oversize backpacks clutching their parents hands everywhere I look, I have been thinking of my longest running friend. I met Kristine when I was five, which

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-28781500295262504472009-08-04T16:26:00.001-07:002009-08-24T14:49:47.612-07:00

Remember that infamous line in Garden State when Natalie Portman’s character plays New Slang by The Shins (with enormous headphones!) for Zach Braff’s character and says, “You gotta hear this one song. It’ll change your life. I swear.” While, I firmly believe that songs can change your life, along with big (like a wedding) or small (like discovering a new store) events, books, movies or anything

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-72050011163757583372009-07-31T15:03:00.001-07:002009-07-31T15:08:28.617-07:00

It’s been a while since I’ve participated in a photo Friday, and since we just (two weeks ago!) returned from a fabulous weekend camping in beautiful Sequoia National Park. I thought I’d post some pictures of our weekend. Before we get any farther, let me introduce you to the key players: this is our motley crew. An assortment of friends from various places. Now the first thing to know is that we

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-38412192783602653282009-07-08T12:49:00.000-07:002009-07-08T13:13:10.021-07:00

Happy Birthday To MeSo I turned 29 last Tuesday, I know, I know, it’s been a while, but please forgive me as I have been celebrating! My birthday is not just one day of celebration. And, of course, I have been celebrating the birth of America too. Well, and writing a research paper, and creating a wedding album for a friend, are just among some of the activities worthy of my time these days. But,

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-29073077467257586912009-06-23T12:04:00.000-07:002009-06-23T14:41:02.442-07:00

Just When You Think You've Seen Everything...You Haven'tIn my childhood bedroom I had two closets, yes TWO closets. Every girls dream, right? One closet was exclusively for clothes and shoes, jackets and covered shoeboxes filled with mementos. The other closet was filled entirely with books. I had deep shelves, and stacked books three or four high, neatly lined across. Favorite books were stored

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-19424468767185202172009-06-18T12:07:00.000-07:002009-06-19T08:38:26.415-07:00

A Father's Day PostSunday is Father’s Day, and since I haven’t talked much about my goofy Dad I thought a little recognition couldn’t go amiss. Plus he’s been pestering me to write a post about The Greatest Man I Ever Knew (yes, so humble you can almost taste it). So I hereby present you with a list of my favorite memories featuring my dad, and if you would like to add your own favorite memory

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-61011967765177069292009-06-16T15:07:00.000-07:002009-06-16T15:17:19.432-07:00

Ode to StrawberriesForgive me Internet, for I did not mean to write two posts about fruit in one month. Obviously I have a problem. But, have you had any strawberries lately? Oh. My. Gosh. They are delicious. I mean, I have always loved strawberries. In high school I kept the nearby fresh strawberry stand in business. Well, me and a few of my friends. I guess after high school, I left

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-8980283851337921722009-06-08T14:56:00.000-07:002009-06-10T06:40:23.754-07:00

Travel QuotesMost people collect baseball cards, or fancy artwork, or beanie babies. (Side note: What do people collect these days?) I collect travel quotes. I have an old beat-up journal that was gifted to me many years ago in which I house all my beloved quotes. I find them in books, from friends, or other travelers. The world is full of brilliant inspirational travel quotes. They all ring true

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-44446431400115286352009-06-05T17:12:00.000-07:002009-06-05T17:36:05.845-07:00

Product of the week: Pineapple easy slicer I have always loved Pineapples. In fact, when I went to Costa Rica I basically lived off fresh pineapples (and mangos, and bananas, and papayas...and other exotic fruits.) I’ve tried over and over again to eat the canned stuff, but it just doesn’t taste the same. And the frozen chunks just don’t cut it either, great for smoothies, but not as an afternoon

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-18165740652461465792009-05-29T11:28:00.000-07:002009-05-29T11:35:29.620-07:00

The Heart of LifeI had all these old t-shirts from high school: track meets, cross-country state championships, the pizza parlor where I worked during summers, grad night. The summer after my freshman year in college, my grandmother, Mimi (her real name was not Mimi, it was Ruth. I, being a natural blonde, did not realize that until I was in high school. Yes, I thought her real name was Mimi

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-46115679787661632162009-05-28T08:18:00.000-07:002009-05-28T12:09:52.202-07:00

A Weekend in Cabo San LucasDid I tell you I was going to Cabo San Lucas? I nearly forgot myself. Well, one doesn’t nearly forget a trip to Mexico, especially in light of the Swine Flu. But, it snuck up on me with graduations, crazy work schedules and final papers hogging center stage. I could go on and on about all the things we almost did like whale watching, snorkeling, or touring the

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-238455342834751572009-05-22T15:00:00.001-07:002009-05-22T16:43:46.089-07:00

The Trojan Horse For the last three years, J has been in graduate school. The first year or two was a little fun. Football games, a chance to make new friends, a trip to China, but the last year has been endless. I wish I could tell you I was exaggerating, but I'm really not. He's been very good at school, of course, and has garnered all sorts of accolades, but the last semester (in particular)

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-17126053146178997722009-05-20T12:50:00.000-07:002009-05-20T13:06:51.515-07:00

Movie Review: Star Trek Movie 2009 I'm not sure how, but on Thursday night, I was coerced into going to see Star Trek. J has been looking forward to it for months, and since I've dragged him along to such cinematic masterpieces as How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days and Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, I figured I probably owed him a favor or five. The deal was sweetened when three of my favorite

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-78909805070169448842009-05-06T09:48:00.001-07:002009-05-06T09:53:01.954-07:00

Walk On ByI contemplated posting this picture because I am not normally the type of person who publically makes fun of someone. Sure, I'll do it behind their backs, in the privacy of my own home, laughing my evil "muahhaha" laugh (and don't pretend J that you are the nice one of the two of us!) Usually, I smile and nod my head; all the while thinking of comments I can later make when re-enacting

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-26786132363239414702009-04-30T08:54:00.000-07:002009-04-30T08:59:35.342-07:00

Save ChuckI’m not a big TV person. I even lived for a couple of years without one in my apartment. Yeah, I like watching the news, but nowadays I get most of my updates via the internet (have you heard about the swine flu? Oh, you mean you don’t live under a rock?) Or the occasional Friends episode on rerun, but I’m pretty wary about starting a new TV series. I mean it took me four years of

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-92025993166924007912009-04-22T11:15:00.000-07:002009-04-27T13:42:57.320-07:00

Random Wednesday UpdatesYou’re probably wondering where I’ve been, the vast, deep void of the Internet. Did I ever tell you that I’m getting my Master’s degree in Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages? Pretty fancy, huh. Well, I have a large research paper due, approximately next week. (Spoiler Alert: It is not nearly done!) And I have been doing lots and lots of research, and reading

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-73454577709221536892009-04-10T17:40:00.000-07:002009-04-10T17:53:07.376-07:00

Photo Friday: Lassen National ParkEvery year, eight of my very best friends (5 couples total) get together for a weekend camping trip. Since half of the group lives in Northern California, and other other four live in SoCal we usually find a place in the middle. However, this particular year (2007) we voted to make the extra trip up to Lassen (about three hours north of Sacramento). And, let me

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-63869743519893293942009-04-08T10:44:00.000-07:002009-04-08T10:47:33.719-07:00

April 8thFour years ago today, this girl: married this boy:and it's been happily ever after since.

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-68157964468049286532009-04-02T11:52:00.000-07:002009-04-02T12:14:58.326-07:00

I'm BackDid you miss me dear Internet? Did you even notice that I was gone from cyberspace? Well, I am back, and finally emerging from the mess. Did I mention that I caught a plane-induce, sleep-deprived cold on my way home? What a way to come back from vacation. I am planning on highlighting two of the four cities in upcoming Photo Friday's, but here is a sneak peek. This was a carefully

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-90899124463257450892009-03-15T18:36:00.000-07:002009-03-16T08:01:56.432-07:00

Los Angeles is My CityI love National Geographic's Intelligent Travel Blog and Kristin at Camels & Chocolate. (If you haven't read her blog, you are missing out. She's hilarious, plus she has the coolest job ever!) Anyways, ITB recently launched a new series, "I Heart My City." I pondered filling this questionnaire out since I have a love-hate relationship with Los Angeles. However, I thought

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-19996384905842942352009-03-11T09:54:00.000-07:002009-03-11T10:11:42.896-07:00

California StarsI love music, love it. It's almost always consistently playing in my house. I love all different kinds of music. This being said, typically my favorite group/song/album changes (hey, I'm a girl, what can I say?) However, I have one song that is above all others: “California Stars.” This song (and the other tracks on Mermaid Avenue collections) is the collaborative efforts of Billy

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-82076462170281325032009-03-10T12:28:00.000-07:002009-03-10T12:34:14.026-07:00

springtime. Love the colors of spring, but glad this tree is my neighbor's!

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-1309734406462323762009-03-06T14:56:00.000-08:002009-03-06T17:06:20.500-08:00

Photo Friday: Vienna's GriechenbeislOne of my absolute favorite cities in Europe is Vienna. I adore Vienna. I love the cobblestone streets, the grand palaces, and art galleries. I can see the history, I can feel elegance, and I can hear the music. Dear Internet, I love the music. Beethoven, Haydn, Mozart, Schubert. As I walk the Innere Stadt, I feel like I've been transported in time.I could

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-11109735889724785482009-03-04T11:26:00.000-08:002009-03-04T12:04:59.774-08:00

Food for ThoughtI have never been one for hot dogs. I don’t like ketchup (I know, I know, it’s the quintessential American food!), I’m not a big fan of mustard or relish…and I like eating with a knife and a fork. I think it’s quite barbarian to eat with your fingers. This however, was before I went to The Infield in Sherman Oaks. Internet, this hot dog stand is delicious.I got the daily combo

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-65770703495491216482009-03-03T08:50:00.000-08:002009-03-03T09:00:05.733-08:00

For the Love of RunningI am a runner. That statement has defined me for the past decade. Running has made me joyfully happy, and woefully upset. I have made some of my best friends through running. It has hurt me, but also made me healthy. To say that I have a love affair with running would be an understatement.I started running the summer I turned fourteen, or the summer before my freshman year

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-53153393515733906812009-02-13T11:12:00.000-08:002009-02-13T11:48:00.763-08:00

Photo Friday: Lake Arenal, Costa Rica J. and I went to Costa Rica for our honeymoon. Originally, we wanted to go to Italy, but between being "house poor" (we just bought a house, 6 months before our wedding), and the quickly crashing dollar rate we didn't think we could afford it. So, we picked up our Atlas of the World, let it fall to a page...and lo and behold, it fell to Costa Rica. J. did all

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-26085822318852197552009-02-10T15:36:00.000-08:002009-03-03T09:05:19.817-08:00

Hop in the car and drive anywhere in the United States and most of the time, no matter where you stop, there will be something familiar that feels like home. You see the familiar Starbucks cups, McDonald wrappers and huge billboards on street corners.When J. and I were dating and living in Sacramento we frequently went on weekend getaways (usually with very little planning and preperation to them

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-31525196132568030742009-02-04T11:32:00.001-08:002009-03-03T09:08:19.881-08:00

This meme was plaging me, so I thought I'd post it here.1. I’m a voracious reader. I read books over and over again too. I’ve read Pride & Prejudice almost a dozen times, Harry Potter and Little Woman more times than I can count – but my favorite book? Not your typical high-brow pick: Tulips, Chips and Mayonnaise. I read it when I’m sad…its laugh out loud funny.2. I really dislike Southern

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21687252.post-51717149013773110262009-01-23T16:49:00.000-08:002009-03-03T09:09:32.665-08:00

Let Them Eat Cake by Sandra Byrd is a cute, fun novel about “chick-lit” novel that integrates faith elements without being too preachy. Alexandra Smart, better known as Lexi, is on a quest for a life she always thought she wanted: the perfect job, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect apartment. Obsessed with anything and everything French, Lexi finds lands a counter job at a local French

Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12334160451476745959noreply@blogger.com0