Thank you.

The extended honeymoon's over, folks.
so some thanks are in order!

thank you:
1.elements, planes, trains, cars, buses, and suitcase wheels for getting us home safely. We had an INCREDIBLE four months and a world (literally) of adventure. But it is so so good to be home.

2. body, for waking up at 4 am so I could try to finish these fifty pages of writing I have due tomorrow. (ilovegradschoolilovegradschoolijustneedtokeeptellingmyselfthatilovegradschool)

3. n e w l i f e. We kind of feel like we were playing pretend marriage and now that we're back we're just dating again. We flirt more and fight less... it's funny. but. we don't have a place to live, a car to get there in, or a phone to find them with. That means A D V E N T U R E once again! Only it's just the one country kind this time-- The one country we belong to.

4. Everyone who helped see us off on the chance of a lifetime. Now that I'm back I'm seriously panicking about wedding thank yous. So I drafted up a couple this morning.

What do you think?

the back of this one says "we are the luckiest".

The back of this one says "thank you for helping us feel FABULOUS on our wedding day".

Do you think it's finally time to, like, get all of our wedding pictures? I'd say so.

love, jet lag, and big-time migraine medicine,

banana

Under the Tuscan Sun

A fashion photographer friend once told Jacob that he likes shooting in Italy best because the light falls in a special way. 
It's more golden somehow.
It diffuses like particles of liquid honey.

Well, we finished up in London, which was pretty traumatic, so we thought it might be wise to see and feel some bonafied liquid honey sun.

And we weren't dissapointed.

This post will be largely pictorial because
a) I'm feverishly trying to catch up on this whirlwind week and a half we spent tromping around Europe now that our London life is over, and
b) that means I should keep my stupid fingers shut because
c) Tuscany speaks for itself.

You see, the thing about Tuscany is that it actually looks the way it does in calendars.

And even the best of point-and-shoots couldn't do it justice.

It seeped into my veins and filled me with a dazzling new optimism. 

I am so thrilled about existence.

Even  after getting extremely lost late at night and getting off a random bus in a tiny town with no taxis or buses or anything.

And the pizza rocks.

And I am so in love.

Ciao Toscane,

Banana

Rome if you want to, Rome around the world

Let's be honest. Most of my expectations for Roma came from The Lizzie McGuire Movie and Mary Kate and Ashley's When in Rome (Okay, with an awful lot of Eat, Pray, Love tossed in there. I've read it twice. Sue me). So, according to my experience, I could expect to be mistaken for an Italian pop superstar and live a fabulous double life around all of Rome's most famous monuments, save the fashion world with the help of the ingenuity of my twin and an assortment of friends with pleasantly diverse nationalities while partying on the beach, and pick up a dreamy Italian boy somewhere along the way.

Well, I actually imported  a boy from London, so that part was out. But the rest seamed feasible.

Now, I've been lucky enough to live in both London and Paris for a bit, and they are unique and wonderful and so rich and deep and in all the days I was there I didn't even scratch their glorious, gritty surfaces. I have a HUGE amount of loyalty to those cities (ironic, I know, since one is probably supposed to prefer one or the other).

BUT. 
ohhhh this might get me in trouble.
It's just.... I REALLY REALLY REALLY LIKE ROME!

There is something so... effortlessly glorious in the way ruins pepper the landscape, lazily bathing in the afternoon sun, retreating under the wisteria if it gets too hot. It's like, "I'm Rome. I don't have to prove anything. I'm everything." And I'm like, "Woah, yeah. You totally are." (I really hope London and Paris aren't reading this. But hey, I'm American! Don't I have some sort of immunity here!?)

I mean, what's a girl to do when all the public drinking fountains look like this?

(London, for the record, doesn't have any. Not that I'm bitter... just dehydrated.)

And all the ceilings look like this?

And around every corner is a church that looks like this?

And the cars look like this?

And the houses look like this?

And the fountains make you look like this?

And you sit down to rest your throbbing feet and eat some multigrain Pringles and it just happens to look like this?

And the graffiti looks like this?

And the sun makes you feel like this?

And the statues look like this?

And all the buildings look like this?

And the pizza tastes like this?

And the women drive Vespas in stilettos like this?

And she can get a "Chicken Mythic Bacon" at McDonald's???

Don't judge. We're poor.

And they just know how to deal with chicken at the Chicken Hut!?

And her husband is this cute??

Well. 

I suppose all she can do is sigh and hope that that one euro cent in the Trevi fountain really does assure her a return to Rome. Maybe, hopefully, an extended one (?).

That, and she can go to Florence. 

Bummer. ;)

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

Well, in nine days I'm doing the biggest thing I've done so far.

Brookie took some lovely fall fairy bridals for me. 
Film, like my love, just can't die.

I know I haven't been much of a blogger lately. Between my happiness and grad school, there just hasn't been much room for existential musings. But my permanent boyfriend-to-be and I will be leaving for London Town in a couple weeks, and I think it just might be the perfect occasion for a little resuscitation, no?

oh wow, I'm getting married.

Hi

I'm eating my cereal with a fork, but that's fine because I HATE soy milk and want to taste the least amount of it as I possibly can.

In other news...
I graduated from college (big wup).
I jumped out of an airplane (bo-rring).
I received an awful lot of rejection letters (cool).
I had a few existential crises here and there (what's new?) and took this picture of the lovely, consistent spring weather:

I took some more Holgas in Moab:

Ally Snack and me

Every time someone said "there's cairn" I said, "who's Karen?" 

...And I meant it.

Everyone seemed to know her.

so.
I'm trying to decide what to do now.
It's cool because I can technically do anything (nothing tying me down, dontcha know), and yet the rejection letters and bank account seem to say that I can't. I wish I was some sort of economical genius and could create a large, glittery loophole that created a huge demand for my skill set. You know, like, watching clouds and taking long showers and stuff.

uh.