Beijing

How much do you really know about China?

Scentsational London

While Christmas shopping this past week, I came across a candle that was branded as smelling like London: "Tea and Lemon." This got me to thinking about the city I remember, and I have decided to compile a (more accurate) list of potential candle scents for a London line:

• "July Thames"
• "QE II's Hat Closet"
• "The Royal Horse Stables"
• "Kebabs + Chips"
• "Prawn Anything"
• "Harrod's Food Hall at Closing Time"
• "The Queen's Arm's Men's Loo"
• "That Guy in Dreads Dancing to a Boombox at the Entrance to Portobello Road Market"
• "Chelsea Lapdog Excrement"
• "Leicester Square Tourist"
• "Alan Rickman's Musk"

What else? What are some other good scents that would transport one straight to the middle of Piccadilly Circus?

A short post for men.

Lately, the news is full of stories about men and the terrible things they've done: men who have beaten their wives, men who have ignored a woman's "no," men who have sacrificed their ethics in the name of greed, men who have beheaded other men...the list of their atrocities is, sadly, too long.

Last night, I had the unfortunate experience of standing in front of two college-age males in line for dinner. I'll spare you the details of their vulgar conversation - did I just age myself? - but safe to say that it all made me physically ill to imagine them interacting with any future daughters. Or sons, for that matter.

And then I started to think about men. I began to lump them into one, general category and mentally list off everything terrible about them...

Except, when I thought about the men in my life, I couldn't do that. Because, in truth, I've been surrounded by so many good, good men. Men who have not pushed me into and have even led me from compromising situations. Men who have challenged me with conversations and questions that have pushed me to be stronger, more confident, and more Christ-like. Men who have defied the stereotypes and let me talk and talk and talk and break down and cry in front of them. Men who didn't let competitiveness get in the way of nourishing my God-given talents and provided me with opportunities to excel in so many areas of my life. Men who have made me feel valued and worthy of love - love for which I didn't have to compromise.

Men who have, quite simply, protected me in a dangerous world.

So, in the midst of everything terrible, I think it's also important to thank the men who are doing it so well. Perhaps I am unique in my experience, but I hope I am not.

To so many of the men in my life: thank you for loving me so well. I think I speak for my my mom, my dad, my brothers, my family, my friends, and my future husband and children when I say that the way you've chosen to exert your manliness has made the world a better, richer, safer place for me, and others, to be a woman.

Oh meami, oh Miami.*

*or, "Where we're going, you won't need shoes."

Took a little trip with the girls.

Up, up, and away.

The question I am asked the most, outside of what mascara I use (Maybelline Volum’ Express for day and Givenchy Phenomen'Eyes for night), is how I manage to travel - domestically and internationally - so much. 

Charleston, darling.

I believe this trip was necessary for both Mindy and me, made up of a thousand little memories that won't be nearly as interesting to you as they were perfect to us.

To the sea.

July finally rolled around, which meant it was time to head to the coast to cool off just a bit.

Confessions of a Jack Mormon.

I've just returned from a trip to the coast - Savannah and Hilton Head and Charleston (oh my!)  - and I have so much to share! But I turn right around and fly to Miami on Thursday, so my friend Brian has graciously stepped in while I throw bathing suits and sunscreen from one bag into another.

B + K in Hawaii, 2012

This is Brian

Fried pickles + mimosas.

The girls needed a catch up, badly, so we piled into a booth at Folk Art to do it over brunch.

Those chicken and waffles, though.

The yard sale.

It started, as many things do, with a simple text.

An American's guide to the World Cup.

For one month, every four years, the world unites in the spirit of fútbol ("soccer" for the Americans). And no American cares more about it than my friend Jake.

Eating Atlanta.

A few posts ago, I said that I was getting a taste of Atlanta. I meant it.

Literally, a taste. Most of my excursions are centered around food.

Cheers for children.

If there's anything I love more than a good soirée, it's a good soirée for a worthwhile cause.

Breakfast at Tiffany's.

First thing first: Happy, happy 25 to my brother's gorgeous, funny, talented, mother-of-Stevie-the-cat girlfriend, Jess. She (like my brothers) is so, so much cooler than me.

All of the sass.

A love letter to the South.

All of the very best days start with a long, slow walk under tall, windy, spindly, angry oak trees...

Nawlins.

Have you ever found something so amusing that you laughed until you cried, only to receive blank stares when you tried to recount it for someone else?

Happenings.

(or, "What I've Been Eating")

October will always be my favorite month - gosh, what isn't perfect about October? - but I've got a soft spot for May. The world seems to wake up again in April, but so hesitantly. No one really trusts April, do they? But by May, we've all agreed to let our guard down and welcome summer with open arms, humidity-wavy hair, and juicy toenails.

Raspberry toes

Indiana.

I was so happy to be home to celebrate Mother's Day with the ladies of the family: Mom, Nana, and my brother's girlfriend, Jess. Last year I had to Skype in from Dubai (boohoo, I know), and so it was sweet to be able to give her a hug this year.

The farm.

Weekends away make for the most hectic weeks, don't they? I just found a container of feta in my bag and a pair of running shorts in my dish drying rack. I have no idea how either got there...

Role model

London (The End).

I've been a bad little blogger, but life is just buzzing, buzzing along, good enough I haven't wanted to stop to reminisce.

But things are starting to get blurry, so it's probably time. The last few days in London were lovely, but a bit like a Sunday: an underlying uneasiness because you know you have to go back to real life very soon. 

I'll let the pictures do most of the talking.  

Trafalgar Square after a visit to the Monet room in The National Gallery