Not in my words, but in Mr. Robert Frost's:

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower:
but only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
so dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

ee cummings is to spring what Robert Frost is to fall.

throwback thursday: to catch a thief

I watched To Catch a Thief as I was baking cookies the other night, since the rainy weather was keeping me inside the entire afternoon. You can't beat anything that has to do with Cary Grant, Grace Kelly and Alfred Hitchcock combined, especially in September. And especially with chocolate chip cookies.

Grace Kelly is the definition of perfection.

And that white dress (!!!!!!!!!) Fashion week will never have anything on that dress.

Naturally, Max thinks I'm the strangest person alive to become nostalgic about a time and place I was never a part of, but these pictures are some of my favorite. One of my very favorite movies too.

a belated goodbye to summer

I spent most of my summer inside of an office. Welcome to being 26. I didn't ride a bike once and I only watched part of an outdoor movie, but the few afternoons and weekends I did get to enjoy the sunshine and time with friends were not taken for granted.

Our first day of "summer" I remember well. We had gone to get ice cream and chicken rings and drove down to a baseball game at the park. We listened to That's Life (Frank Sinatra) on our drive over with the windows rolled down and I thought THIS IS SO SUMMER.

The last day of summer felt like a grand finale. I finally had a s'more and got a sunburn. We spent an entire day outside at the pool and played "human surf board." We ate as many meals al fresco and went on a very last minute stargazing picnic. 

As for everything in-between? A blur of the MCAT, fireworks, medical school applications, BBQ's, long hours at work, leaving town, paying bills, sleeping in on Saturday's - etc etc etc.

And because this weekend I have penciled in our "first unofficial day of fall" holiday, I thought I might as well make time to give an official summer goodbye: your long days and warm nights shall be missed by me.

lliiiiiifffffeeee

I'm convinced feeling like my life is constantly in fast forward will never end. Every month seems to fly by faster than the month before, and most of the time I feel like I'm just trying my best to keep up and enjoy the ride.

Last night Max fell asleep before I did, (which never happens because I usually fall asleep about .5 seconds after my head hits the pillow) and as I sat there in the dark I thought about a million things. I thought about one of the books I've been reading and how I hope it ends; I thought about the lesson I need to teach on Sunday. I thought about the groceries I need to pick up from the store and the tailored suit which needs to be picked up on my way home from work. But mostly I thought about this book that sits next to me on my night stand, and this poem (which I've read so far at least a hundred times)

Late Hours
By: Leisel Mueler 

"On summer nights the world
moves within earshot
on the interstate with its swish
and growl, and occasional siren
that sends chills through us.
Sometimes, on clear, still nights,
voices float into our bedroom,
lunar and fragmented,
as if the sky had let them go long before our birth.

In winter we close the windows
and read Chekhov,
nearly weeping for his world.

What luxury, to be so happy
that we can grieve
over imaginary lives."