XO-LP // Laura Palmer

A Love Letter History.

You have a blog?

Dear 28,
I haven't been able to write. And it's making my brain hurt (more on the brain later. there'll be photos too.). After a year of spilling my thoughts into a text box, I miss the release it gave me, the way it made me laugh, the kind of perspective and sense of accomplishment these silly little posts gave me. And then there's the people who remind me I'm not blogging...
(This is how I look when unable to write.) 
Here we are, nearly 5 months in, at a time when I am "having the best time of my life" (I actually said that to Laura yesterday over lunch. Those exact words) and am doing all this stuff that I've been dreaming up for years (more on that too-- and no. these are no longer hollow writing promises.) In year 27 I'd penned over 60 posts by Labor Day. This year I've written less than 15. It's not for lack of material (this year's been full of odd, superfun and comical bits of blogable life), I just can't seem to get myself to push the keys of the macbook.
Look at that. Typing. Right now. It's a bloggin miracle.
So I decided on this blessed day, the Sara+Holly birth anniversary, I should give it a try. And remember why I started writing in the first place. And remember how hilariously wonderful my life is, especially when I type it out for all the interweb to read.
I suppose we should start with August. Summer really was a blur, the good kind of blur. I did a sloppy recap of July, but August deserves a little more care. There was so much in August, typically marked as my second least favorite month of the year (behind February of course), but yet again the 8th month was packed to the gunwalls with delights.
The highlight of the month was a visit from my sister Jen. (You'll probably click on this link. And then see her blog. And yes. She was on a billboard. And on Ellen.) She megabused into my city and we had a weekend that'll go down as one of my favorite with her in all the 26 years we've known each other. We awed the crowd at AJs with a stirring duet of "Gotham City" (oh and then she iced me. i thought this was a city of justice. a city of love.), took in the Iowa State Fair efficiently and hosted a pre-rager-rager at the Stoop right after she color-coordinated my bookshelf and unboxed some more of my belongings. (Thanks Jen. Can't wait to come see you and complete #25 in December!)
In addition to Jenapalooza, I moved into a new place (The Stoop is my new dwelling. Still working on writing that ode to the 4404), I saw Janet Jackson live at the fair and witnessed the re-emergence of fun Tone and his dancemoves, I went back (back back) to Cali (Cali) with my fun-foodie coworker and the most delicious cake I've ever tasted, had my freelance illustration debut hit 100 mailboxes thanks to the Dwolla, lived through a zombie attack in Des Moines' East Village, sangria-ed in a salvage shop, and got all sporty at a wiffle-ball tournament (and that weird Des Moines wall climbing thing happened too).
Told you it was " packed to the gunwalls." And September, oh. I am simply falling in love with September. The blog lives on.
"des moines"LAURAComment