corresponding shapes

Out with the old underwear, in with the New Year

amy — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 17:59:07 +0000

Last night I rearranged my drawers. Not rearranged really…more cleaned them out. My suitcase from Christmas vacation unloaded and open atop my bed, I put clothes rarely worn into it. Summer tops I had thought might be good for layering but had laid in my drawer unworn since 80 degrees, skirts from my closet that hug and cinch at my thighs because they’re 3 to 8 years old, bras that my breats never grew into despite what my mama had said about hers growing after she was married (now I realize this was just because she was only 18, rather than because she married), old tennis shorts which are too god awful to pull out even to wear to the gym, socks that have long since lost their other, and jeans that made me swear when I try to put them on. I decided that it was time to make a new start. I tossed out old underwear. I made room for new clothes purchased over Christmas break on the top of each pile. I even pledged to think about my underwear choice each morning instead of just grabbing whatever old pair was on top.

What brought all of this about you might ask? Well, well, well…very interesting question. Let’s start at the beginning….

A few months ago a friend at work loaned me a book called Girl Meets God. My friend raved about the book and I wasn’t reading anything at the time so I borrowed it happily. It looked like a fairly conservative Christian book likely to remind me of my youth and be nothing more than a pleasant but cutting walk down memory lane. What it turned out to be instead was something quite significant for me. The author Laura Winner writes about her journey from Judaism to Christianity. Being the quintessential English major in college, I was drawn in by the first pages as Winner describes a trip to Oxford, Mississippi in all the ways an English person might. Oxford as the birth place of Faulkner…with an old flame, she visits his grave accompanied by shy smiles and a bottle of red wine. She’s there to present a paper on the Civil Rights Movement. He’s there to transition her into the next chapter.

The book cascades into a rhythm of the rhythms of the two religions she’s known. Myself having recently grown disturbed by the looseness of my own church–preaching on whatever fits the pastor’s present fancy, from books to art to methods for happiness–I became quickly envious of the rhythms of the calendar year as celebrated in the Jewish religion. At one point, I even said, jealously, I wish my religion had such rhythm…was so grounded into each year of life. Two chapters later I saw how charismatic and nondenominational my own spiritual journey had become. Winner, led by a driving curiosity in the Christianity of her Southern heritage, began to see the wonders of the seasons that accompany Christian faith in an Episcopal Church. From Advent to Lent to Holy Week to Pentecost and back to Advent again, she finds herself settling in naturally and rhythmically to Christianity.

As I read and heard her thoughts, her retelling of each spiritual season, I began to have the same longing. I longed to be grounded in religion of Christianity with order and days to remind me of all Christ has done and does do for me. The book stayed with me and when it came to Advent Season, I made a decision.

One Sunday morning, having skipped several services at my church over the past few months, I decided I wanted to celebrate Advent in a very real and tangible way. Talking to a friend online, I decided to go to an Episcopal Church during the Advent season. It was such an immediate decision that unshowered I scooted out the door not ten minutes later to catch a service down the street at an Episcopal Church. And there it was…Advent scriptures, Liturgical prayers grounded in years and years of others, a sermon about being expectant for Christmas, for Christ. I sang the Lord’s prayer with them and felt honored to step into the tradition.

Over the next few weeks, I tried to think about Christ’s coming as I purchased and decorated my first real Christmas tree, drank eggnog with spiced rum and without, bought and made my Christmas presents, and listened to Sufjan’s Christmas albums. Christmas Eve my husband and I found a midnight service to attend at an Episcopal Church in his hometown and celebrated the coming of Christ in scripture, prayer, and song. Like Winner, I drank up the liturgy and the scripture and the tradition of it all. Like Winner, I found myself feeling grounded and uplifted and lightened when I left each service. Having come from an anti-liturgical Christian background, this was not at all what I had been taught to expect. But having spent the last year and a half in a church that neglected scripture, only using it to accompany the pastor’s own psychological theory on living life, I found that it was fresh water to my weary and dry soul.

And so we come back to my underwear drawer. I find that by clinging to, by sinking into, and engaging with the season of Advent, I am more ready for the start of a new year. I am more ready to start anew, to see New Year’s in a different way. Resolutions don’t seem so silly at the moment, but rather seem finely timed. I’ve purchased a new calendar and daily planner with thought and care having considered what I’d like to focus on in this new year, with this new start. I find myself, having engaged with Christ and his coming–his humble, sacrificial coming–ready to make necessary changes in my life. And I feel thankful for the upcoming year to better myself for Christ, for myself, and for the many others who are affected by my comings and goings.

In the mood to be anyone but me today…

amy — Thu, 08 Nov 2007 19:56:00 +0000

Today I’ve wanted to have anyone’s life but mine. The thought that got me out of bed (with the help of my lovely husband) was of searching job postings in Boston for a new career path. I heard about the blog of a friend of a friend and I obsessively sleuthed the pages wishing to be her…wishing to write like her…to be a mom like her…wishing to have a religious experience that feels alive, not troublesome, like her. After furiously searching the site for a picture of her so I could see if I did in fact want to be her (and yes, she’s pretty), I realized this is all I’ve been thinking about today.

A free lunch out today involved a 5-minute lecture from a financial planner. As I filled out my list of what I could want financial assistance on, I checked the box reading “start or maintain a business,” deciding on the spot to do that, and proceeded to talk to a co-worker at lunch about all the ins and outs of starting a business. I think I’d like to do something creative and perhaps fashion-related. Though I have so many dreams and thoughts of working with/writing children’s books as well.
Back at my desk, I can’t concentrate on the work I need to do … because doing it means that I’m agreeing to be me doing my job right now, and I want to be doing anything other than what I am doing right now. I used to be a compulsive craigslist searcher. I’d look at apartments in other cities, think about moving to one of them randomly. With furnished apartments, I’d check out the furniture and think how I’d arrange it.

Last night in my painting class I became so frustrated because the painting I was working on just completely sucked. Not only did I think it sucked but at the end of the class when all the paintings were lined up together it was truly obvious that it sucked. Why can’t I have painted her lemon, I thought? Gosh, why the heck can’t my vase look like that I ruminated? And I was thinking on the way home, why am I painting? So I can be good? Nah…it’s so I can enjoy painting. And I do…I really do like it, even though my impatience seems to be a particular problem in the medium. Smeary a slightly-off color to fill in the rest of a space for which I’ve run out of paint will not leave me with the happy feeling I desire.

I feel like there is an easy answer here, and perhaps some of you are thinking it now–Amy, just be happy with what you have. Amy, just enjoy what you’re good at and be in the present. But I feel there’s much more to it than this. I have a very awkward and unbalanced perspective of success and happiness at work in my life. They both pull me along but perhaps it’s not in the same direction. I really want to be a creator–to write, or to draw, or to paint, or to collage, or to design, even acting would be a step in the right direction…but doing any of these things has never been synonymous with success. What does that mean for me and my future? Will I always go toward things that seem like success but that don’t actually translate to personal success for me?

Click on this pic to see more pics from the Fashion Party

amy — Tue, 23 Oct 2007 13:17:43 +0000

DSCF8685.JPGOriginally uploaded by The Thaggards

For Felecia’s Birthday, we choose a to have a “Phenomenal Woman” Theme. In the past couple of weeks, my friend has been thinking about how little of herself had actually claimed womanhood and decided it was time..time to look in the mirror and say:

I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.

I’ve been thinking about this poem a lot over the past week. There is something about it that makes me want to clutch tightly to its words…to reign them into me… to repeat them in front of my mirror…to know myself as such…

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I’m not cute or built to suit a model’s fashion size
But when I start to tell them
They think I’m telling lies.
I say
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
A hive of honey bees.
I say
It’s the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say
It’s in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say
It’s in the click of my heels
The bend of my hair
The palm of my hand
The need for my care.
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That’s me.

Fashion Photography for Beginners

amy — Tue, 23 Oct 2007 03:00:20 +0000

I’ve recently begun to get more into creating art. Saturday night, a group of girls came over to pose for fashion photography in front of my camera. I looked like a pro with my tripod set-up and didn’t use the flash (doing those two things makes you a pro, right?). The girls and I had a lot of fun dressing up, posing, and shooting. During the days since, I’ve found myself reading photography composition websites and editing the photos endlessly. As I lay here on my couch thinking of my delving into online browsing in a way that I thought only my husband could, I can look right above my computer screen and see a large black and white photograph with beautiful composition. In the bottom center of the shot is a girl, curled up, knees into body and arms hugging legs, head resting on the woman’s right knee. Two unique square-painned windows line either side of the girl, and a pulled curtain flows behind her.

This is a picture of me taken by my friend Lindsay. Lindsay, the girl in the lovely color/composition photo above, was the one who got me into thinking about fashion modeling and fashion photography. A couple of years back, she asked me to come to her house for martinis and modeling for her eBay store. One night and I was hooked. It was deliciously fun and made me feel pretty and feminine in a way I hadn’t felt before. After a few more photo shoots for eBay with Lindsay, she asked if I would come over one morning for her to shoot artistic shots of me.

The morning I was getting dressed to go over for my “shoot,” I had a giddy excitement. Someone, and not just anyone–a cool, fashion-wise girl, has asked to take my photos for art. Me, the girl my mom still claims could have looked prettier sooner if I had merely heeded her advise and donned dresses and make-up all those years of middle school and high school she had been suggesting my outward feminization. Yes, this long-time, self-made tomboy was being asked to model.

There was a bit of a pause when Lindsay asked me to put on a mint green slip dress, or was it just a slip, but I went with it and soon got into the mood of the shots. From chair to bed to wall, her bedroom became background to some great black-and-whites. Lindsay is a stellar photographer and has an incredible knack for getting texture on film. She had several of the photosgraphs matted on foam board and even had an opening with them all in a coffeehouse in downtown Chattanooga.

So as I jump more into photography, and visual creations in general, I’ve got to stop and thank Lindsay. Frankly, the party Saturday night would not have been dreamt of had it not have been for her. Hope you are well!

Finally…I’ve found my identity

amy — Mon, 15 Oct 2007 13:26:48 +0000

Around my office, the staff has a sort of interest, nah obsession, with a particular personality identification test/system called the enneagram. Before I started working here last summer, I’d never heard the word, nor had I heard so many grown people self-proclaim to be numbers. “I’m a 5.” “Well, you know, I’m a 3.” “Oh,” everyone would say with a look of understanding–some with conceit, others with a scoff.

You’re a what?

On rare occasion, someone on staff gave a small explanation for what all this number-naming meant, but it took me quite a while to figure it out–about 6 months, I’d say. When I finally understood what it was (oh, a personality test…I like those), I began to try to figure out what I am. The enneagram doesn’t work like traditional personality tests. While you can take a test to help you figure out what you are, it’s more like you read a bunch of material to see which personality type (1-9) best suits you–how you think about things, feel about them, and how you deal with things.

For me it’s been an interesting year, personality-wise. With a new city, a new job, and largely new friends, I’ve been in a sort of stress that makes it hard to function very me-like. With a few co-workers, I discussed the fact that I couldn’t figure out what I was. The 7 seemed sorta like me. Then other days, I’m felt more like a 1. I asked David to read the different things and give his opinion but he was as confused as me. Then about a month ago, the two musicians on staff came into my office to work on a musical composition. One of them made a comment about how it might be too much to have 3 “4s” in one room.

“What?” I said.

“Wait, what do you mean 3 4s?”

“You think I”m a four.” And they both looked at each other, then me, blankly and certainly and said, “yeah, you’re definitely a 4.” Then seeing the shock on my face, added kindly…”well, at least that’s what we think…”

The certainty with which they said this statement caused me pause. The fact that they thought they knew what I was when others (myself and David included) were stumped was very intriguing. While they went to work on their musical number, I immediately began to look up the 4. And amazingly, I think it is me.

So, I want to introduce you to me. Maybe you don’t realize I’m like this. Maybe you dont’ see all these parts of me. But this is me. I mean, not totally, not exclusively, but largely…this is my personality. Oddly, it fits me better than any other such personality thing I’ve seen…and frankly, that gives me a huge chocolate mousse-sized drop of comfort in my belly.
What are you?

…to live deliberately…

amy — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 14:17:46 +0000

On my birthday last week, David and I went swimming in Walden Pond. It’s the most idyllic setting to swim–beautiful green trees, a large lake with soft, cool water, hundreds of chipmunks huddling about on paths trying to dodge feet that come trampling through. And it’s the former home of good ole Henry David Thoreau, legendary American author, naturalist, and philosopher, best known for his work, Walden (named after the pond, no doubt). After our swim, David and I walked over to the plot of land where his little house used to sit. There we looked up to read these immortal words, carved into a stone beside the little square of dirt: “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” To which David promptly improved on by proclaiming, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliciously,” and tossed another handful of barbecue corn nuts into his mouth.

Now, a week later, that phrase (Thoreau’s not Thaggard’s) “to live deliberately” comes to mind with an odd new meaning for me.

A few weeks ago I attended a retreat in West Cornwall, Connecticut. It was a personal/spiritual retreat for 5 days. I went alone, to join up with a group of people who also wanted to have a cleansing session with God and from their environment. It was wonderful to be out on my own, something I haven’t often done since I’ve been married. I really enjoyed not feeling pressure to be friendly with anyone because I didn’t know anyone. I went there for me and I was going to spend time with me.

On the second day, we were asked to take a self-test; “Am I codependent?” it asked. I read the title and thought, “of course not.” But as I answered “yes” to many of the questions I began to wonder two things. First of all, what does codependent even mean? And secondly, am I codependent and if so, is that soooo bad? I finished my quiz and kept the idea in my head that I could be. The test told me that if you answered 5 or more questions with “yes,” then you should probably consider that you might have codependency issues. I had 17 “yes”s. I put away my quiz, determined to ask one of the retreat leaders about it at a later time.

In my small group time the next day, I did a sharing my story, of sorts, and a theme arose in my sharing time. I take responsibility for things…I’m a good friend to have in crisis b/c I’ll work hard to fix it, and I’m also a good friend to have b/c you can depend on me…I’ll do it for you even. Also, I tend to think that things are my fault. I’ve known this but it was interesting to see that this thread of taking responsibility and being responsible wove through my life; even more ironic, was the thread that braided in beside this: powerlessness. I think I have felt very much in my life powerless to change things I see are harmful, bad or hard…yet I try to take on everything so that I can change it. Or better said, I work really hard to change things by taking responsibility and when they don’t change, I feel totally powerless and give up.

On the way out of small group that day, I mentioned my quiz score to one of the leaders. To him, it seemed to fit very much with what I had discovered in group, but I still had my doubts. I didn’t see how I could be codependent and even if I was, how this was bad. So I cared for people. So I cared a whole lot for people…So I become a sort of caretaker to people sometimes when they couldn’t really take care of themselves…So I obsessed and worried about everyone else’s problems…So what?..Isn’t that active kindness?

Besides having some active confirmation of this through the material we were working on, I actually felt better being away than I had in quite a while. It felt very restful for me to be in nature and for me to be taking care of myself alone. I spent more time with God than I have in years. In the afternoons, we’d have free time and I’d go for a walk and pray. At night at the end of chapel time, I’d sit there and let God speak to me. I felt a lot of encouragement and closeness with God and it felt good. I actually had time to just sit with him and put my problems out for him to take, for him to work on, instead of sitting there with an overflowing bucket of everyone else’s problems to give to God. I found that I had a freer mind and a more relaxed body, but of course everyone feels this way on vacation, right?

When I returned, I mentioned the codependency question to my therapist. I told her about feeling responsible and then powerless and how this thread ran throughout my life. She recommended a book for me to read…Codependent No More by Melody Beattie. I wrote down the title and tucked it away inside my calendar book, inside my purse.

Fast forward to this past Sunday: I was not having a good day. Ever since I got back I’ve been feeling wearier and wearier. I’ve known that I need to pull back (mostly on the inside) from some relationships because I let other people take over my life, and I forget to do what I really want to do. I overworry about people (you can ask my husband if you have any doubts). I obsess over mistakes I make. I think constantly about how to make a situation better. And I get tired easily. And I don’t feel peace on the inside often. Every couple of months I have to take a sick day because how I feel mentally & emotionally starts to take a toll on my body–headaches, tummy tenderness, body aches.

I actually worked on Sunday and so I took Monday off. I went to the library at 9 am, right when it opened and I got the recommended read from my therapist, despite some embarrassment at the library check-out counter. I figured I might as well see if this book could help me out at all. At first the book was quite off-putting for me. It talked about codependent people being manipulative, controlling, blaming, anxious people who were usually married to alcoholics. This didn’t seem to describe me at all. In the second chapter, I found that I could relate to a few different women in their stories even though I have never lived with an alcoholic…for instance Patty tried so hard to make her husband not drink; she worked so hard to keep things safe and together by keeping her husband in line; she found herself tired and weary all the time; she became worried and then obsessed and then frantic that something was about to happen. She tried to control the situation and her husband to keep things from getting worse.
I continued to read yesterday, nearly 100 pages, and felt sadly yet hopefully connected to the ideas and traits the author described for the codependent person. And then…she said something that was really weird…she said, Codependents are reactionaries. They react to others’ feelings, they react to situations, they react to problems, they even react to their own emotions. At this point, they have lost control. They are actually being controlled by the people and the situations around them. Codependents may even find it hard to be in large groups of people, she continued, because their reactionary habit goes haywire with so many people to react to.

And somehow it clicked…it all clicked. I am such a reactionary. My mother and my father were reactionaries too. I react to a missed green light; I react to an upset feeling in my body; I react to a word from David; I react to everyone around me. It’s not bad to react; it’s totally normal in fact, but I think the things about codependents is that their reacting is out-of-control. They react way more than they act and they [we] make decisions in our reactions which is not a very good place to make decisions. It means not making decisions in a calm, peaceful space but making decisions in franticness daily.

I’m still trying to figure out what it all means but this morning as I left for work, I encountered a good example of this. Back story: I’ve been on antidepressants for about two years. Recently I started taking them less and forgetting to take them, and phasing off them (I don’t like being on medicine). I don’t know whether this was a good decision or not, but I started doing it and just went with it–I suppose you could say it was my reaction to the fact that I was forgetting to take them. So this morning, since I’ve been feeling down the last few weeks, I blamed it on my medicine. I decided to take a pill and call my doctor and ask for more. And then I thought about it (taking medicine or not aside)…I’m reacting out of this feeling that I’ve got to get medicine b/c I’m not okay without it. I am reacting to my feelings which are not so happy right now and trying to do something in franticness b/c I fear things getting worse. And just like that, I realized…I don’t have to react; I can act; I can live deliberately.

So I put down my phone, resigning to call my doctor when I’m in a better space. And I headed off to work trying to let this line sink in in a new way…I want to live deliberately…to live deliberately…I want to take control of my own life and live it actively instead of being a buzzer waiting to be sounded; a marionette string waiting to be pulled; a balloon waiting to be deflated; an applause button waiting to be pushed…I want to live deliberately…

goodreads.com

amy — Wed, 27 Jun 2007 14:56:15 +0000

When my friend redid this site for me about a year ago, I wanted to be able to have a page where I could keep up with the books I read and possibly write reviews for some of them. At times, I get into long stints of reading crazy amounts of books and it can be very hard to remember which ones I’ve read. Today, someone sent me a link to this thing called goodreads.com and it’s just what I was looking for. Click here to see my profile and join in the fun. You can log the books you read, review them, and see what you’re friends are reading.

Yard Sale Aftermath

amy — Sat, 26 May 2007 22:07:14 +0000

Well, today we finally had our yard sale. Despite the fact that the tables look practically untouched, we made about $150 which isn’t bad. Hopefully we can make more off some clothes I’m going to take to consignment. It’s really great just seeing all the stuff our of my house, and welcoming it out of my life. Now that it’s out on these tables (we have yet to clean up, even though we’re hitting 6 pm), I don’t want it to go back into my house. Any of it. So I’m planning to load it all into the car, and take it away…away to consignment, away to Goodwill, away to the dumpster.

And then….packing!

Yard Sale Time

amy — Tue, 15 May 2007 22:07:55 +0000

Check out our rockin’ yard sale ad. Wish all you out-of-towners could come and sit with me on a lawn chair, drink tea, and sell stuff with me!

Clothes/Dishes/Lots More in INMAN SQUARE

Reply to: sale-330126744@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-05-13, 4:17PM EDT

YARD SALE - LARGE VARIETY OF ITEMS - TABLES OF GOOD STUFF

May 19th @ 8am - 2pm
412 Norfolk Street, off Camrbridge St. in Inman Sq.

Here are some of the items available:

Lots of clothes (Banana Republic, American Eagle, Gap, Urban Outfitters, and some other fun stuff. Lots of women’s clothing!)
Big set of china
Additional dishes (mugs/plates)
Gardening set
Video cassettes
Metal CD tower
Metal coat rack
Picture frames
Working cell phones

…and MUCH MORE! We’re still pulling stuff out of the basement this week.

We’re really trying to lighten our moving burden, so it’s a lot of stuff that we like, but just have decided we don’t NEED it all anymore. Stop by, check it out, and hang out in Inman Square for lunch. We’re right there, so you won’t blow your day should you not find anything you like.

617-639-3096 if you have any questions.

Our New Apartment

amy — Thu, 10 May 2007 15:21:07 +0000

I got such a kind email from my friend Anna this morning. I met Anna when I was doing YWAM in New Zealand back in 2001. She’s really cool, and I’ve been doing a bad job of keeping up with her. This morning, she wrote to say how much she’d been missing correspondingshapes and just wanted to check in on me to see how things are. So, Anna…this post is for you!

It’s that time again. Time for the Thaggards to move. Somehow, it’s become an annual event. We’re really hoping that this place will be one that we can live in for three or four years, possibly until we can afford to buy a house around here (outrageous but not totally impossible). Click here to see pictures of our new home. As you can see the kitchen and bathroom and the hardwood floors are the highlights. The kitchen and bathroom are totally remodled and rival any rooms I’ve ever seen. As our realtor said, “this landlord doesn’t f#@%^ around.” The location is also great. We’ll be in Ball Square right behind this really great coffeeshop, which David and I have recently discovered and grown to love. As I was telling a couple of friends the other day, I’d taken them there so they’ll get hooked as well, and then once we live right around the corner they’ll totally feel obligated to invite me up for coffee when they go there. In addition to being right behind Ball Square, we’ll also be a 20-minute walk to Davis and a 25-minute walk to church, which for me also means to work.

We move in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, I’m trying to reorganize our things and get rid of somethings the good ol’ way…yard sale. Like we were saying the other day, it seems that cellphone are really here to stay. Looks like we should finally get rid of those regular phones. David found this yard sale kit online so if you’re interested in having your own yard sale; you can do this easily with the click of a button (well, a few buttons).

Moving for me always means some sense of loss. I’m a very forward-looking person so I get caught up in what’s next. So naturally, right now, I’m very excited about our new place. But for a moment, let me take time to reflect on what’s been good about the place where we’ve been living since August and what we’ll miss.

I’ll miss waking up to the noise of Keith doing the dishes in the morning.
I’ll miss the late night talks in the courtyard with Kate.
It was so good to have a place to move into right from Tennessee, instead of having to look around.
I’ll miss our family dinner night (we had a few really successful ones!).
I’ll miss the window seat that our cat Simon loves to lay in.
I’ll miss the space…for the price. So much space for a great place, gosh that has been nice!
It’s been really good to have close friends right upstairs. On more than one occasion, I’ve made my way up there to cry and pray with Kate.
Keith has really inspired the fix-it man inside of David. Together they’ve fixed our car (multiple times), our television, our speakers. And Keith, thanks for randomly fixing our sad microwave.
I’ll miss having a local gathering place for other friends. We’ve hosted a few very successful events at our apartment, including a bachelorette party, a bridal shower, a killer Thanksgiving week o’ fun, and an Easter brunch party.
I’ll miss having friends who will love and care for our cat while we’re out of town or staying over at a friend’s place.
It’s been good to be in Inman Square. I’ll miss you Inman Square. You’re a great part of town!
And I’ll miss having Cambridge as our address. It’s been so wonderful to have you written on every piece of post. I’m not too sure that many people have had the opportunity to live in both Cambridge, England, and Cambridge, Mass.