Seriously?! it's August...

So, I'm not going to pretend that I don't love having a reason to bust out the sweatshirts, drink tea all day, and have to get all bundled up in order to enjoy being outside. I do. I like the cold weather (if it's not too cold, too often), but generally I prefer if the cold foggy evenings stay in the winter and fall where they belong.

Yesterday was Griffin's birthday and a celebration was planned that fit him well. For our awesome friend -so full of life, joy, kindness, and enthusiasm- we hoped to celebrate outside at an awesome place right on the beach. I made a pie, there was ice cream and other delicious desserts, good burgers and pizza, bocce ball, a sand box (!), and the hopes of general summer-night-type merriment.

Griffin's a good sport, my friends are all good sports and really awesome enough and fun enough in their own right that we still had a good time. But it was COLD. It was weird, sitting in early August, by the beach, in a literal cloud of fog, especially when you are expecting, well, a summer night. I had on a flannel shirt, a fleece that Adam thankfully has in his car, and we were sharing blankets that people who live in Santa Barbara keep in their trunks for reasons such as this - our weather, while pleasant more often than most places, is seriously unpredictable. We have more than our fair share of beautiful summer nights here. While they aren't hot like the summer nights of the midwest, or the south, or all of the places I went last week; our evenings are usually quite beautiful. I did note however, on many occasions last week, just how much I missed sitting out on the porch with a cool drink on a warm evening. That will always be one of my favorite things to do - however unpleasant it is at that moment when you are trying to fall asleep in the heat, I looove me a good warm summer night and what it entails before that awful moment. I digress.

So last night we huddled around the table and talked and laughed. There was no bocce. I'm not even sure anyone got up for anything other than food or napkins. But we still had a good time, gathered to celebrate a friend that we dearly love, and enjoying the community that we're lucky to have here. I stood up to take a picture (I'm attempting to take more pictures these days, I took about ten total while on my eleven day vacation, a new record-for real-I didn't even remember to bring a camera with me last time I went to Europe...) and this is what I got.


It's not really a good picture at all. No one is looking. Paul was the only one who saw me taking it, in fact, and flailed his arms and made a weird face, but I snapped the picture at a truly awkward moment so really it looks like he might actually be sleeping...but I like the picture anyway. I like how strange and blurry only Adam looks, and that his hand holding the plate is all kinds of crazy. It actually kind of looks like he's fanning Paul off, or maybe that he's about to hit him with the plate, but I assure you, he was not. You can't really see Meghan, or Hilary, or Jess, Josiah, Robin, or Cec, but I know they're in there. Griffin is dancing along with his gangsta-birthday-Barney (or purple "frog" that looks suspiciously like Barney). TJ, whom we dearly miss, is back on the scene for a couple of weeks before heading back to Philly. And I feel like you can actually see how cold it was last night in this picture.


So I'm posting this awful shot, because I like it, and this is my blog. When I stood up to take it, I paused for a minute and thought about how lucky I am to get to do life with these people. How thankful I am for each one of them. They're all quite different. I've known them for varying amounts of time and they each play a unique role in my life and in this group. They're genuine and thoughtful, and they are really funny people. So that's all. It was a good night, with good friends getting together for a great reason. And this post will also serve to remind me to a) take more pictures and b) well, to get better at it.

A nice, steady, deep breath

***for you, Kim, I finally updated my blog :)

Summer makes me feel restless. As a kid, summer was easy. We rode bikes, ate ice cream, played ghost in the graveyard with the neighbors, and caught lightning bugs. Mostly, summer was about mom and dad taking off early from work so we could pack up the car and head to Wisconsin to spend a few days at the lake house. We did this a lot. At the lake, it seemed like the rules were a little more flexible. Life moved a lot slower, and each day was spent out on the boat. We tubed, water skied, swam, took naps in the hammock, ate lots of chips and brats, had all of our meals outside, made a fire (with s'mores, of course) and then woke up and did it all again. That was it. And it was awesome. Later, from the time that I was fifteen, summer meant camp. And camp, well, camp was freedom and adventure to me. I went for a week or two of the summer every year as a kid, but once I turned fifteen and was old enough to be a lifeguard, I would leave as soon as school was out and stay until it began again in September. I'd make the drive up to Mukwonago with my heart ready to just about explode with anticipation for what the summer would hold.

At camp we lived intensely, in the best way possible. When I think back on each of those summers, they are marked by the memories of good friends, crazy adventures, and serving God joyfully and intentionally in any job I was asked to do (really, even the totally unpleasant ones like raking the beach or cleaning the toilets). I'm brought back to vivid and sweet memories of friendships that challenged me to grow in incredible ways and taught me to love selflessly. Camp reminds me of living simply, waking up early, not caring what I looked like, eating my weight in anything and everything sold at the Elegant Farmer, and laughing harder than you'd believe. I think about sneaking out at night for bowls of cocoa puffs, deep conversations or exhilarating midnight skinny dipping. These summers were overflowing, too, with precious quiet times, desperate prayers and lessons in faithful patience. God was huge to me during those summers, and I feel that both the foundation of my faith and of what is important to me in life was laid there.

Mostly, really, what I miss about camp is the intense passion for life that I felt each day I was there. It's hard to explain, but often in my "adult" life I have flashbacks to those moments of summer and grow nostalgic for the way I lived then. What's worse, I know that I am still mostly equipped to live this way right where I am because sometimes I really still do. Frankly, I'm just not as much as I could be, and I've noticed that failing to do so leaves me feeling like something is missing.

I'm aware, I have high expectations for summer. It's unfair to expect that a day spent in the office, even with a trashketball tournament and juicy piece of gossip will compare with a day spent on the lake when you're eleven. Even if the evening hours after work are filled with homemade guacamole and margaritas with awesome friends, and the vacationy lifestyle I know that I get to live in SB, there are still tasks at hand, future plans and fears which accompany the occasional freak-out, not to mention the dishes in the sink or the nagging presence of school. This is just part of growing up, becoming more responsible - "loss of innocence" and all that.

I have a job, a good job, that boring as it is I can't just leave for months at a time to live in a carefree world of summer. I have rent and bills to pay, friends that I miss when I leave town, and graduate school to commit both time and energy to. I don't think that growing up should be synonymous with becoming stressed about life, though. I don't think it should have to mean losing patience on the freeway or running errands all weekend or dashing out the door for work without having eaten breakfast. When those small things take precedence over reading good books, sipping coffee on the porch in the morning, writing in my journal, cooking fabulous meals, taking my kayak out or going for a run, they represent a priority shift that I'm just not okay with.

Sometimes, when I'm stressed out or really cold I notice that all of my muscles all tighten up. You know that feeling? If I stay like that for long enough I almost don't even notice. After a few hours of being out in the snow or running around like a chicken with its head cut off at work I become increasingly aware of the fact that I am absolutely not comfortable or relaxed at all, but have truly forgotten that all of my muscles are totally clenched. My shoulders are up to my ears and tied in knots, and my fists are clenched, toes are curled. I've become at that point, officially, physically stressed. The only thing to do at that point is to do what works. Take a hot shower, or better yet, find a hot tub. Have a glass of wine, go get a massage (or recruit a friend), go to the beach, sit in the woods, or put in a Friends DVD and eat a whole bag of cheddar goldfish in one afternoon. And follow it up with some Ben & Jerry's. Sometimes all it takes is a deep breath, a reality check, and a fresh determination for being more intentional about taking preventive measures.

So to relieve some of my life-stress I bought a plane ticket (or three) and went to visit friends. I went to a beautiful wedding and swam in a lake (amazingly therapeutic for a freshwater Midwestern girl like me who "only" has access to the Pacific). I caught up with friends that I'd spent an amazing Washington summer with and we ate picnics, kayaked, and barbecued. I had plenty of alone time to drink coffee, wander around Portland, browse Powell's, and daydream. Then, in Denver, I got to spend almost five days with Emily, which, let's be honest, is probably enough in and of itself to decompress. But we went rafting in the mountains, and something about that day, being on the river, made it feel like the reset button had officially been pressed. From there on out it was official. I was living in a summer state of mind. There were a lot of thoughts making a big mess up in my brain, but summer has never meant laziness to me in that regard, or emptiness of my mind. There is just something about the longer hours of daylight, the possibility for adventure and excitement, that gives me renewed energy for untying those knots. I'm happy to do whatever it takes to sort out my frustrations, worries, dreams, tasks, everything and putting it in it's rightful place. The good and exciting things, the scary things, the shitty things, they all get put in their place, and I can live in the present and revel in it better, more fully, more passionately. This is the key; the essence of living in and breathing deeply of all of what summer has to offer.

I feel good. I was fine before my trip, too. A little distracted, maybe a little flustered and left-of-center, but otherwise sailing through life in a way that worked. But this is better. I am thankful, my heart is at rest, and I am refreshed. I am also glad that I don't have any weekend plans again for a while. I need to hit the beach, my summer tan has seriously faded in all this busyness and travel and who am I kidding. That's a pretty important part of summer for me too, always has been.

It's good to be a Zarcone.

We waited a long time for the party of the year and then, when it was finally upon us, we savored every moment and tried not to miss anything. It was over too soon, but other than that, it was perfect. Karli and Zack's wedding in Seattle was, truly, a perfect day. Every moment of the weekend was bursting with excitement and celebration. There was joy and love and thankfulness abounding in every event, every meal, and everyone present. These two families know how to party. They are full of life and hospitality and generosity; they love to eat good food and drink good margaritas. In short, they do life well.

Karli and Zack come from good roots, to be sure. They have amazing families with strong values and lots of love, encouragement, and support which is reflected so evidently in their own marriage. It's been such a joy as their friend to watch them as they begin planting roots of their own together. Their marriage is beginning with deep and secure roots. They are grounded in faith, thankful to and in awe of the Lord who brought them together and continues to bless and strengthen their relationship. They are rooted in friendship. These two laugh and play together like no other couple I know, which is so fun to watch. Their marriage is rooted, as well, in love and respect for one another that continues to grow and grow, bringing them closer together and stronger as one.

I'm so thankful for these two, so thankful they will remain on the west coast, and unbelievably excited to watch their marriage continue to grow and blossom in strength and love, and in faith.

I'm still alive.

It's been a long month. For starters, I moved. You already knew that, but settling into a new place takes quite a bit of energy - the good kind - but nevertheless, a lot of it. I've been getting used to the new house, new room, new neighborhood, and I've been nesting. It's been truly wonderful. I didn't know how much I needed that change (okay, maybe I knew a little bit).

I took a week long intensive summer class on addiction and family treatment. And it was, most definitely, INTENSE. The class was fabulous though, and now that I have time to breathe (25 pages completed and to be turned in by mail in the morning!), I hope to have some time to reflect a bit more on what I learned. The course was an emotional journey to say the least, and challenging in ways I hadn't expected.

And after that first week spent mostly in class, studying and in Pasadena, I've been gone every weekend of July. There was Karli's fabulous bachelorette party in Napa, complete with a way-too-short stay in a fantastic house on a vineyard and a felt-shorter-than-it-really-was road trip with Meghan and Robin. The following weekend was a much anticipated and much needed reunion with my favorite ladies from college to celebrate Elyse's bachelorette party down south. There was champagne and catching up, eating and laughing, and more eating and more laughing. And then the next week it was off to Seattle for Karli's wedding for a few days, straight to Portland for a few more days, and continuing straight on to Denver where I am at the moment.

And now, I feel, for the first time in a long while that I am able to take a deep beath and rest. I feel like the reset button has been pushed on my life, and I have a little time to reboot before anything is expected of me. There's been a lot swirling around in my mind recently so I'm so looking forward to having nothing better to do than to hang out with Em when she's not at work, and when she is - to use that time in the mountains to walk by the river, drink coffee, read books for pleasure, journal, think, pray, and process. It's a much needed break, and I couldn't be happier to take this little vacation and make the most of it to do my heart well.