On being raised right.

I'm sitting at my kitchen table wearing only cuffed pants (pants that are rolled up at the bottom - hey, I went to a fashion consultant, I know about these things) and a short sleeved top. It's almost 5:00pm in Seattle and it's nearly pitch black. I hear rain in the distance. The city lights brighten my view, and the Space Needle, bless that thing, reminds me on the regular why I love my apartment and this fantastically chilly city. To my immediate left is a hefty size bowl of sauteed kale and a glass of water. I ate an entire sheet pan of rice krispie treats in two days and my body gave me an ultimatum: "Eat something green or that's it!" I hear you body. I respect you. .

I feel like I'm writing rather quickly tonight, my thoughts spilling onto the page, as though I haven't written in months! For some reason, I didn't think anyone was reading this thing so I pushed it aside filled my time with more important matters. Oprah. What I've come to realize, though, is that even if nobody reads my words it's best to get them out of my head, into the open, because how can I make room for new thoughts when the old ones are crowding up my area code (in this case, my head). So, I'm back. I'm back to writing and sharing and being ridiculous. Perhaps you'll smile at my words and stories. If I bore you, though, never tell me. I'm a sensitive bear and have taken to punching people in the face when my feelings are hurt. Obviously, I'm kidding. But seriously. .

Instead of giving you a detailed account of the last seven months, let's just say I've been great. I've been running and working and hanging out with a beautiful lady and cooking for friends and living my little Seattle life, happy as can be . . Now, for the actual blog entry.

Taken last Thanksgiving. Seattle 2010

I'd like to dedicate this one to my parents. My generous, intelligent, hilarious, kind, amazing parents. They raised my sisters and I right. If/when I do have children, I could only hope to be as crazy great for them as they were for us. They taught us to be kind to everyone. They taught us to eat everything, to take home left overs, to not waste. If you don't waste, you won't want later. They taught us to be humble. To have respect for everyone. To have goals. To be on time. To bring a dish or a bottle of wine or cookies to a party. To work hard, even if you don't necessarily enjoy what you are doing. To find what it is that makes us happy. To try new things. They encouraged our curiosity. They asked how our days were and really heard our answers. They were always there. At all hours, in every moment. They took us on trips and bought us things. We knew who to go grocery shopping with (Mom!) and who to go clothes shopping with (Dad!). They taught us about food: how to prepare it, savor it,  how to share and enjoy it. They taught me how to drive, although, I skipped town before I could really master the skill. They took care of my grandparents. They made us a priority. They were involved. They took us places and picked us up afterwards. With every graduation, award ceremony, basketball game and piano recital they were there, cheering us on. They stood up for us. They told us we made them proud. Mom made our Halloween costumes. Dad introduced us to beautiful filmmaking. To my parents: I love you. I am thankful for you. I look forward to your Seattle trip, and like always, many donuts will be devoured. .

It's good to be back. You'll see me here again soon . .