Big Things, people.

I promise there are good reasons for my lack of posts and slacking on joining Yeah Write this week.

You see…. I have a surprise for you. I can’t tell you what because duh, it’s a surprise. But I can tell you the when. Here goes.

Sometime over the weekend (but definitely by Monday) you’ll see these Big Things. Check back with me over the next few days to find out! 

Yes, I know this is evil. But I’ll give you a few hints:

• This has been a long time coming.
• I’m seriously sweatypits right now.
• No, I’m not pregnant. Or engaged.

Send me good juju that all goes well, please?

In the meantime, I’ll share a few pictures from yesterday, which was my birthday! It was an amazing day and I was showered with texts, calls, Facebooks, tweets, flowers, and LOVE. I’m so blessed to have so many wonderful friends IRL and here through this blog. This girl is grateful. Sniffffff.

Cake Batter Pancakes. Enough said. Recipe here. 

TROUBLE. Lululemon gift card. There goes a paycheck. #zerowillpower

Gorgeous sunshine from my west coast bestie. ❤

Amazon gift card, silicon baking cups, Bob Harper sweaty yoga and a new speed rope for CrossFit. Yay!

To make my birthday even better? Something really awesome happened professionally and they didn’t even know it was my birthday! Remember when I tweeted this?

I GOT IT!!!

Again… blessed. 

See you all very, very soon!

~Peach

13.1

The sea of runners crushed around me as we were all herded towards the starting line. I thought of my friends Bertie and T, who had already begun and would surely be waiting a long time for me at the finish. Trying to calm my racing heart, I prepped my Nike+ app to record my mileage and started my 13.1 playlist. As “Thrift Shop” began pumping through my noggin’, the starting line loomed. I had to pee. Kind of. Shit, too late now. I hit start on my Polar monitor and off I went.

I was running my first half marathon.

After jockeying my way to a clear path for what felt like an eternity, the masses finally thinned out a bit. The first two miles flew by, and so did the second two. Still comfortable territory, but I’d been warned that the hills on this course were a doozy.  My plan was to manage them cautiously – quick steps and lean forward on the way up. Long strides and breathe deeply on the way down to recover.

Instead of worrying, I focused on the people watching. I smiled and waved at the pregnant lady cheering us on, wearing a tshirt that said “FUTURE RUNNER” with a down arrow. I ran past people offering me Krispy Kreme donuts!! and stations set up with M&Ms and jelly beans. Tailgaters offered beers, which I breathlessly declined. Later, though… yes. GOD YES.

My mind was kept occupied with the lyrics playing through my earbuds, the scenery of the city around me, and with what people wore or didn’t wear. There were lots of St. Patty’s Day festive outfits with garland, Irish shirts, leprechauns, green sequined tutus. Me, I was set with my bang buster and my turtle socks.

The skyline didn’t draw my eye when the view appeared. I was drawn to the coral-strewn sunrise on the other side of the road. Typical me. And I kept on running.

Somewhere in Piedmont park I saw someone waving a sign that said, “We don’t know you, but we’re proud of you!!”. My heart lifted and I thought about how sweet they were. And at that moment, I felt proud of me too.

The miles kept rolling on and I feel like I hit my groove. My body knew what I wanted it to do and it did it without complaint. I kept my (turtle) pace and my breathing under control and laughed inwardly at the signs that said “We’re not wearing any underwear!” or “We tailgate for ANYTHING”. The race photographers loved me – I was the cheeseballing one who pointed directly at the camera and open-mouth laughed. I might have also been the one flexing her bicep. One guy lowered his camera and laughed at/with me. Nice, Peach. 🙂

When I hit mile 10, my face lit with pride. I’d just run the farthest I ever had in my life. And I wasn’t done yet, but I was okay.

Then, it was on that next hill that I felt the first twinge in my right calf muscle. The kind that threatened a vicious cramp if I didn’t back off. So I power-walked that up hill. And the next. Dammit, why do the steepest hills have to be at the end??? Sadistic course planners, I tell you.

Miles 11-12 wound up being significantly slower than my previous pace from all the walking of the hills. I nearly got upset about it. Instead, I thought, Dammit… be proud. You’re doing this race the best that you can, and it’s okay if you walk the hills after you’ve just RUN for TEN MILES. Just keep going. You’ve got this.

And just then I saw a mom-type lady waving a sign that said “RUN, [MY NAME], RUN!!!” And I thought of my own mom’s Facebook comment that had said the exact same thing the day before. I kept running for my mom and dad. Because they can’t.

The next hill nearly did me in, but as I was cursing inwardly, “**** THIS ****ING HILL ALL TO ****ING HELL.”, I thought of my big brother. He completed his first half this fall and I felt him cheering me on in spirit, too. I kept running for him.

I cheered when the race sign appeared that said “1/2 mile left!!” and I kept running. For me. Because I could do this.

And… it sucked. That last stretch felt so long. I was tired. I wanted to be done.

Then I looked over to my right and thought, hey, who’s the really skinny guy running over there on the other side of the barriers?  And then it hit me. OH. THAT’S THE MARATHONERS. WHO ARE FINISHING A course TWICE as long as yours and IN THE SAME TIME AS YOU. Oh the humility!!! 🙂

But as the spectator crowds got bigger and I could hear the race announcer’s peppy voice, my gloom lifted. I’m no Kenyan. Never will be. I’m just Peach. Running her first half and doing a damn fine job of it.

The finish line finally appeared and I kicked it up a notch. My legs felt like they weren’t going to agree with what my brain wanted, but they did.  I crossed the line with a victorious overhead fist pump and a huge grin. I bowed my head for my medal and posed for pictures, then went off to find Bertie and T. AND FOOD. Holy crap I was hungry.

The post-race rewards were worth every drop of sweat. I did it, y’all!

Come What May

To write down your intentions is one thing. To begin to live with intent is quite another.

Starting The Mighty Peach List pushed me to attend Camp Mighty. It was there that I met the most incredible people and told the world my dreams. Suddenly, the dreams-turned-words-on-paper became tangible actions and realities. I had professional portraits taken, traveled to Portland, tasted foie gras for the first time, saw the Christmas tree at Rock Center and had a frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity. I ran a 5K, 10K and a half marathon. I’ve planned to visit London and to hug a gigantic Redwood at Yosemite. I declared my desire to buy a house and start my book.

All this has been heady and empowering. But these are things. Stuff.

The real work appears when you realize that you’ve been living your life and dreams at the will of others, or at least in consideration of their judgment. The real work comes when you finally choose to stop letting THEM decide YOU.

At first, the change happens in small ways. Someone makes an assumption about your feelings, casually dismissing a hurtful remark. Calmly and honestly, you correct them and state your hurt aloud.  And the moment you receive acknowledgement – the moment you’ve shown up to be seen and heard – the moment you get a heartfelt apology and an admission of wrongdoing? That’s when you promptly crumple into an ugly-crying mess.

Because WOW you just put yourself out there, utterly naked emotionally, fully expecting to get your heart stomped on. And instead you were given validation.

The actions snowball. Other difficulties are confronted. Each instance is more awkward and difficult and scary, but you’ve grown to understand that you matter enough to be heard and seen. No more will you sit quietly and let assumptions be made about your heart or your life. Careless people that once would have been silently resented for their thoughtless actions are now admonished aloud for their behavior. Relationships are ended because you realize that if someone cannot make room for you in their lives, then they are not worthy of having your heart.

You learn to stand alone in your skin. To take pride in the person you’ve become and the person you’re still growing to be. You’re able to reflect on the thorny path you took to get here and you’re grateful for each tumble over twisted roots. You start to live with your whole being. You’re able to use this new-found strength to reach out to the one person who never left your heart.

And blessedly, luckily, find love in return.

The possibilities are staggering.

Because in the end, stuff is just stuff. Go seek out the scariest work. Face your biggest fears and don’t be afraid to eat some concrete. Once you set your intention to live for your own happiness and no one else’s, the rewards are significantly greater.  Do the work and be ready for what comes your way. You’ll be amazed.

_____________________________________________

This piece is being submitted to the amazing Yeah Write Weekly Challenge grid. If you don’t know Yeah Write, you should. Git you some.

Flexible only applies to me in yoga.

At Camp Mighty, Maggie told the story of her Life List item to see the sun rise over the Aegean. Once there in Greece, fearlessly about to reach success, she realized that the sun only SET over the Aegean. Her attitude could have been Shitty McGrumpypants, but she chose instead to go with it. It may not have been *exactly* what she wanted, but a slight discrepancy in semantics wasn’t going to derail her enthusiasm. To her, this choice of perspective stood out in her mind as a huge life lesson.

Be rigid only if you want to break.

I am a planner by nature. I have lists for my lists. So when we were told to narrow down our Life List to just five items for 2013, I was all over that shit. I carry them with me everywhere.

Yet only a mere 49 days into 2013, and I’m already finding that my top five goals for 2013 may need some tweaking. Not for any huge, earth-shattering reasons… simply for the reason that situations change. Circumstances shift.

One of the main goals I’m speaking of is the purchase of my first house. Some outside influences have swept into my life and are postponing the house hunt until my footing is steady again. This doesn’t mean it won’t happen for me this year. It just means my projected timeline of early Spring is pretty much out the window unless some miracles of miracles happen.

I can choose to kick and scream about it or I can go with it.

Duh. I know what I have to do, because you know what? The curveballs? They’re good for me. They’re making me grow.

The same way all the curveballs of 2011 brought me to Atlanta and into beginning this journey in the first place, these new plot twists are getting me out of my own comfort zone and testing the mindset of the “new me”.

A shift of plans does not equal failure. It doesn’t mean that I won’t reach my goals. It only means that I’ll get them completed a little differently than anticipated.  I know everything will work out for the best, however curvy my path may become.  And I also feel in my heart that these changes are what is best for me in the long run.

Good things are ahead. 🙂

New York – A Love Letter in Photos.

New York, I love so much about you.  But it’s not just your big-ticket attractions. What I love most is what’s in the details of you.

It’s standing practically underneath the most famous Christmas tree, and delighting at the little fearless finch on the angel branches.

hello, friend.

It’s finding someone’s wish to become a broadway singer written on a piece of confetti that landed in a planter.

It’s realizing that angels do exist.

It’s snickering like a 12 year old about Big Balls.

1251 6th Ave, Radio City Music Hall

It’s standing high above so much, and feeling so small.

Brooklyn.

It’s turning around and going, “Whoa. What bridge is that?!”

Queensboro Bridge view from the Serendipity front door.  East 60th St

It’s falling in love with a perfect reflection in a restaurant door.

Stumptown coffee, in NYC? Yes, please. Iris Cafe, Brooklyn

It is perfection in a slice.

REAL. NEW. YORK. PIZZA.

It is the timeless and detailed wrought iron entryways…next door to a tourist hot-spot.

It’s lifting your head into the cold wind and seeing the Empire State Building for the first time.

It’s not wanting to stop and be THAT tourist, so you wind up with a wonderfully dizzying shot.

It’s spotting the morning-after evidence.

Jan 1, 2013.

It’s being determined to eat REAL ramen, the REAL way.

I ate my ramen like a big girl – with chopsticks.

It’s not being above taking a classic NYC shot.

It’s accepting that sometimes your best pictures might be taken with your iPhone.

It’s shopping decadence, mixed with vendors, mixed with traffic, mixed with architecture and light.

J.Crew, Soho.

It’s about indulgence amidst frenzy.

Best massage I’ve had in years. Bliss, Soho.

It’s about wondering why the hell they have these steam stacks in the middle of a street lane and then spotting your favorite building between them.

Chrysler Building.

It’s being alone in a subway car late at night, smiling, knowing that right at this moment you are happy.

It’s hearing the languages of dozens of countries within one square block.

tourists crowd the mezzanine over the Rock Center ice skating rink

It’s knowing that you made the right choice in your New Year’s Eve plans.

Straight ahead? That’s where the ball dropped. I was running a 5K instead.

It’s being more entranced by architecture and scope and design than the blue LED-lit Christmas tree.

never forget to look up.

It’s greeting a new day from a new place.

Sunrise view in Brooklyn

It’s the biting wind coming off the water, making your eyes tear and your nose run, yet you take the shot because there is just so much right in it.

Brooklyn Bridge Park, Pier 6

It’s the City of Lights, making bright even the most harsh of barricades.

leftover New Year’s Eve barriers

It’s seeing a movie reproduction of a Broadway show in a theater where Broadway shows were once performed.

Ziegfeld Theater

It’s respect for putting a modern spin on an old favorite.

High Line, Chelsea

It’s appreciation of scale and balance and whimsy.

High Line, Chelsea

New York is just so much to take in. It is too much, yet it is everything. I long for better photographic equipment, so that I could have captured everything even more perfectly. But even then, I’m not sure capturing the verve of this great city is an attainable achievement. New York is felt as much as it is seen.

New York? I love you. Don’t ever change.

Until next time,
Peach

Mighty Peach Life List #58, #10 – Twinkly Lights and Serendipity…DONE!

Back story to these life list items can be found here.

————————————————————–

On January 1, 2013, I awoke in darkness and stretched until my feet hit the end of my friend’s couch. Shoving the sleep mask up my forehead to push the bangs off my face, I squinted at the blinding winter sun and smiled simultaneously. I was looking over the rooftops of downtown Brooklyn prominently displayed through the windowed walls of the apartment. And then it hit me…Today was the day!

My lovely hostess and dear friend Might-E emerged from her room, came over to the couch and sat down next to me. She handed me a gift-wrapped package and said that she knew this would be perfect. For today.  For this year.  You see, Might-E has been one of my biggest sources of support since we met, but especially this year. She’s been there for me as I’ve tackled many tough changes in my life and cheered for me as I’ve gone after my dreams. I count myself lucky to have her as a friend. But hugged her HARD after I opened this.

perfect, right?

After I’d pulled my sentimental/sniffly self together, we hit the ground running for our Big Day. During the subway jaunt over to Manhattan, we fretted over whether or not we’d be waiting for hours to get into Serendipity. The New Years Day crowd could go either way.

Boy, did we get lucky! We only waited 20 minutes for a cute little two-top on the main floor.

Loving the Tiffany lamps. Not so sure about Banana Hammock Guy back there.

Might-E and I delighted over the quirky, larger-than-life menu (seriously, they were bigger than the surface of our table).

But of course, we already knew what we’d come for. We put in the order for my long-awaited Frozen Hot Chocolate immediately. Life is short, dammit. Everyone should eat dessert first.

And then it arrived.

isn’t it lovely?

gimme.

oh, this *will* be finished.

Yes, I gave myself brain-freeze on this baby, which means that I did it right. The word on the street is that the FHC recipe consists of: Seventeen different types of chocolate, blended with milk and ice. So sayeth the server. All I know is that each sip through the straw tasted like a mouthparty of chocolate sin. May everything in this life be that delectably painful to finish. It was worth the wait and worth every calorie.

And then, with seventeen-types-of-chocolate-sugar coursing through our veins, it was time to journey to Rockefeller Plaza.

From the moment we left the subway stairs, we could feel the buzz on the street. There’s just something about that area of NYC, around 5^th Ave with all the stores and TV studios and street vendors… it’s a living, breathing creature filled with bodies and shopping bags and picture-taking. Dozens of different languages are audible no matter where you stand, but the joy on people’s faces matched my own.

first sighting

Swarovski replica of the tree topper.

I doubt any pictures could ever do this memory justice, but I know I’ll never forget what it felt like to lean on that railing and gaze over the ice skating rink filled with wobbly tourists. Even on that overcast day, the tree sparkled and shone proudly, despite the few limbs that were a bit droopy.  Hey, I can’t blame the tree. It’s New York. Living here can be exhausting.

I’m sure I didn’t stand there longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough to realize that I was grinning like an idiot. Putting these emotions into words is difficult, but I can only compare it to the moment when the holidays start to really feel like the holidays. It’s that moment of recognition in your heart. That deep down, ahh. There it is. I was finally here.

We walked even closer and realized the full expanse of the tree’s formidable height when we were directly underneath its branches.

Peach-approved.

And with one last upward glance, I said a silent goodbye and we took our leave.

Thank you to Bing and Go Mighty for giving me the opportunity to check off these life wishes!!

I’m still smiling.

Mighty Peach Life List #62 – Try Foie Gras…DONE!

The intro to this Life List item is here.

Russell’s research led us to The Iberian Pig in Decatur, GA. If you’re worth your weight in the Atlanta foodie scene, you’ll know that Decatur is actually challenging Atlanta “proper” in regard to the food & bev industry. The Iberian Pig not only stood up against but surpassed the few restaurants I’ve tried in Downtown or Midtown. Our outrageously knowledgeable and charming server aced our barrage of menu questions and threw in fun facts about our selections as the night progressed. I dig a server who guides your choices instead of tapping their foot impatiently waiting for you to decide. Whether it involved our wine selection or inquiry on salad portion size or which cheese HE preferred – ours rocked.  He handled our raucous table of nine as efficiently as a timid two-top. We were never without drinks and each round of plates came out as if they’d been choreographed. We always had just enough time to enjoy the afterglow, but never so much time that we were missing our next course. Have you ever booked a reservation at a pricey lovely restaurant and then felt hurried along to free your table for the next seating? Nope, didn’t happen here. We felt relaxed and were able to enjoy the meal along with each other’s company.

Another bonus: unlike most upscale restaurants that require one check and auto-add the gratuity, we were appreciative that we were allowed to split our check 5 ways… and I’d bet you anything that our server came out with way better than 18%! The restaurant itself played a big role for us, too.  Russell, awesome organizer that he is, called ahead and gave a fellow named Ian a heads up about our special evening’s focus. You see, their menu’s foie dish was a play on french toast (“Foienche”)  but my friend wanted my first tasting of foie gras to be more traditional.  After inquiring with Ian, Russell was assured they could accommodate us!

And that was just the service and experience. Let’s move on to the food.

The Iberian Pig boasts a menu that can seem overwhelming at first. How can one possibly choose a *reasonable* amount of food from the vast array of charcuteria and cheese plates, salads, flatbreads, tapas, entrees, desserts and cocktails?!? Ummm, can I have one of each, please? There were so many unbelievable flavor combinations we all wanted to taste, so we decided to stick with the tapas menu as the bulk of our meal.  This way, we could share and taste more than if we’d all gotten a single entree.

Hold on for the culinary ride, folks.

First we needed booze. Because, duh. Terrazas de los Andes, Reserve Malbec Mendoza, Argentina 2009

Traditionally prepared foie gras, served on a brioche crostada with slivered pears and honeyed nut medley. I didn’t catch what the sauces were.

My first taste of Foie Gras. LifeList #62? Check! It was… interesting. Crisp outside, creamy inside, slightly fatty-bacon tasting but not as pork-y. The texture and flavor were not what I expected! It wasn’t grainy or liver-esque at all. Kinda made me tilt my head to the side and go, “… Hm. It’s weird, but it doesn’t suck”. Do I crave more? Not really. Would I eat it again? Certainly.

Didn’t last long at a table of nine…

#2 Cheese plate – Manchego, Mahon, and Canja de Oveja with blackberry, apricot and fig? fruit compotes. Served with artisan bread drizzled with the most amazing olive oil.

#3 Crispy pork belly with candied fruits over goat cheese creme fraiche. #mouthgasm

#4 Pulpo a la Parilla – Grilled Mediterranean octopus, roasted fingerling potatoes, garlic, watercress pistou, Benton’s bacon salbitxada. This wasn’t my first rodeo with grilled pulpo. I found this one very well executed and it avoided being rubbery. The little suckers made me laugh. 🙂 The seasoning and sauces were a great addition, but potatoes were a bit underdone.

#5 Vieras – Pan seared scallops, butternut squash-morcilla puree, saffron roasted cauliflower, tempura artichoke. I’m a new lover of scallops after this one. They were sweet and buttery with a caramelized sear on one side and sitting in a delectable puree. #wantedmore

#6 Manchego Mac ‘n’ Cheese – Garganelli pasta, Manchego-pork belly cream, butter toasted panko, thyme. After I tasted this, I wanted to run to the kitchen and grab the nearest chef and hug him/her. This was a table favorite, but was so rich we couldn’t finish it. #incredible

Copa Catalan – Bruleed Espresso custard served with fresh berries

Closer. #8 Cappuccino. It was a bit milkier than I prefer, but a comforting end of the meal nightcap instead of a smack-your-mama jolt of caffeine.

And there you have it. You can’t say I didn’t go big for this experience!

We left The Iberian Pig happily stuffed and all smiles. I’d finally gotten to try foie gras for the first time and having my friends with me for the experience made it so much more fun! I feel so grateful that I have adventurous-eater-foodie-people who are willing to help me tackle my dreams. Love you guys! And just to make him blush again – thank you again, Russell!

If any of you are in the Atlanta area and want an amazing food experience (and not just another expensive meal) – try this place. And take me with you. 😉

Later, y’all.  I’m off to New York to take on Life List items #58 and #10. Happy New Year, everyone.

Mighty Peach Life List – #62 Try Fois Gras…happening tonight!

GoMighty.com link here.

Thanks to my Southern upbringing, I’m no stranger to deep fried, covered in Hidden Valley Ranch-style comfort foods. As a half-Cajun I learned young how to de-head and peel a crawfish, but never came around to liking their fishy taste. I didn’t mind gumbo as long as the okra didn’t get slimy, but loved the hell out of some Low Country Boil. My mom is a Texan so there were many a chicken-fried steak and mashed potato dinner. The worst I remember was the corned beef and cabbage. She and Dad loved it. Big bro and I thought it smelled like feet, tasted worse, and we staunchly refused to eat the boiled, salty pink meat. “Fancy” veggies like brussel sprouts rarely made an appearance in our house and my first encounter with asparagus was as a mushy, broccoli-turned-bad tasting thing from a can. I didn’t consider myself a picky eater, as long as it involved normal things. Like mac and cheese, fish sticks, shake ‘n baked pork chops, chicken nuggets, tacos, or chicken pot pie.

There’s nothing wrong with these humble foods, but I’ve come a long way since then.

Moving to the Midwest for grad school helped – it was a very large and very diverse college town with a plethora of international cuisines my palette had never tasted. Indian, Vietnamese, Thai, Japanese, and Mongolian were a few. Who knew I’d love Butter Chicken or sushi so much? But I also came to know and love better quality ingredients. I fell in lust with fine cheeses. I worked at a winery and educated my palette on wines from sweet to dry, white, red, port, late harvest and ice wine. My favorite spot’s filet with port reduction and desserts so good I wanted to hump the chef paralleled my awakening to the understanding: with better ingredients came better tastes. Brussel sprouts and asparagus when fresh and cooked to perfection? Now a whole different story. This was around 2005, the front end of the farm-to-table movement. If it meant food tasted this good, I was fully supportive.

Then I moved to the NY area and my food world exploded. I wanted to try it all, from the salty boiled bagels with lox to matza ball soup to real New York pizza. From Little Italy’s gelato and gnocchi to Morimoto’s steamed pork buns to Mario Batali’s Lupa, Bobby Flay’s Mesa Grill, wild boar pasta from some place in the Village and 2am Korean barbecue-it-at-the tables with steaming cauldrons of bibimbap.  My ex was half Ecuadorian and introduced me to maduros, chicharones, papa rellena, chuletas, adobo, yuca fries, ropa vieja, pan con bistec, churrasco, ceviche and the list goes on.

Good grief, I’m a grown-ass foodie but it’s amazing to me that there are still so many types of food I haven’t tried.

Next up on my life list is a controversial one.

Here’s where I say that I’m just a girl… standing in front of a boy… telling you that I want to try foie gras. Be nice.

A lovely friend with many Atlanta chef contacts decided he wanted to tackle this item with me. He not only tracked down the best foie gras place for me, but handled inviting all our friends and booking the reservations. Thank you, Russell!  (ps – Russ is awesome. And blushes easily, which is why I’m doing this. He’s probably red to the tips of his ears by now.)  I decided my Paleo diet is being put into time-out for the evening, too. Gimme the bread, bitches.

Excited doesn’t cover it and we plan to make an evening of it! My friends don’t know this yet, but I want everyone to try a food they’ve never tasted tonight.  Because it’s not just about the foie gras, it’s also about the whole experience. Being brave. Trying. Living.

Now excuse me, I have to go figure out what I’m wearing since the temperatures decided to drop from humid-rainy to BALLS-IT’S-COLD. I’ll report back soon on how it went!

What foods have you never tried, and are a little scared to try!, but are going on your Life List anyway?

Mighty Peach Life List #58 and #10 – Twinkly Lights and Serendipity

When people ask me if I’ve ever lived in New York, I have to admit, “I’ve never lived in New York, but I lived in Jersey for six years.” That statement is usually met with pursed lips, a brief nod, and a pitying “hmmm.”  Jersey just isn’t the same. It’s not better or worse, save Snooki and The Situation, but it’s not New York City.

During my time in Jersey, I adjusted to the frantically-paced lifestyle and the “kill or be killed” driving mentality. I gave in to the reality that rats were fair roadkill game and that the enormous potholes could swallow a small child. But you don’t brag about those things to visiting family who can’t believe you moved to Jersey in the first place. Instead, I used their trips north to tackle big ticket NYC items and relished being a wide-eyed tourist with them. A few friends from college lived there too, and through them I experienced the lesser-hyped NYC phenomena. I danced on the bar at the real Coyote Ugly, saw operas at the Met, got lost wandering Central Park, and threw my 30th birthday bash at a bar on 8th Ave.

After six years, leaving Jersey wasn’t tough. I learned so much about myself, and I’d never trade my time there for anything, but it was time to go home. Now that I’ve been back in Atlanta for a year, I’ve realized I regret not doing a few things before I left.

With Christmas around the corner, I’m especially bummed that I never saw the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. When I tried to rally my native Jersey friends to go back then, they made the tree lighting ceremony sound like the worst of horrors—a crush of holiday-frazzled humanity who made it impossible to be near the tree at the magical moment. The big day always came and went, and in the holiday-filled weeks afterward my excuse was that I was too busy. “I’ll go next year,” I said. But I never did. Then I moved. Onto the Mighty Peach Life List it went.

This year, the folks at Bing told me to pack my fanciest Santa hat, my camera, and my walking boots, because they are sending me to New York to gaze lovingly at my tree. Bonus? I’ll get to check off #10 on my Life List—have a frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity! I’m counting the days and plotting what other trouble I can get into while I’m there.

I’ll report back when I return, but until then, tell me: What are your favorite NYC must-do and must-sees?

Sunday Style Share: Lands’ End Love and Peach’s Winter Addictions

I’ve been a style junkie lately. I don’t know if it was hearing AB Chao’s talk at Camp Mighty, or reading Maggie’s post about it, or if I’m just giddy that my favorite style season is back, but so much fun has been had lately with my wardrobe!

Going all Vanna White on her VERY good points!

First up, Lands’ End was a huge sponsor for Camp Mighty and part of their amazing generosity that weekend included gifting us a dress!!! Mine arrived yesterday and looklooklooklooklooklookie!!!

it’s perfect!

• Lands’ End Faux Wrap Dress

I cannot recommend this dress enough. It’s a faux wrap dress, pullover style, with 3/4 sleeves and an attached belt. One common design flaw with wrap-styles are that the tatas come flying out if you move around too much, but this dress stays put! Plus, the material is very soft but with enough weight to 1. drape well and 2. be thick enough that you don’t feel like all of God and creation is staring at your VPL*. As for sizes, what you see above is a size Small. In my opinion, LE runs a tad on the larger size, so I felt okay getting a Small and I’m glad I did. I definitely wouldn’t want it much tighter than this, but I still have enough breathing room and can move freely in it!  Thank you so much to Lands’ End for my new go-to LBD! If you’re looking for an affordable, flattering and comfortable dress, get this one (and they’re on sale right now!). GO!

*(Visible Panty Line)

Onto other styles I’ve rocked lately.

It helps that am a big fan of Fall and Winter in the South. Not only for the big F word (FOOTBALL), but also for the fact that it means the reappearance of the tall leather boots, the fuzzy hats, the bright scarves, and the cozy sweaters. Yes, please!! While I certainly don’t have the budget for the clothes I REALLY want, I’ve managed to come to a happy balance of quality pieces with inexpensive but cute basics.  Because … well, when you feel good, you look good.  And when you look good, you feel good! They’re like peas n carrots. 🙂

Casual lunch: Laid-back layers

• Sweater hoodie, burnout long sleeved tee, cami: Express
• Skinny jeans: Target Mossimo Denim (they come in long lengths!)
• Flats: Adidas

Coffee Shop: Cozy with a pop of color

• Sweater: Ann Taylor
• Skinny jeans: Express Skyscraper Denim (long lengths here too!)
• Scarf: Express
• Boots: Frye Campus

Dinner: Leather it up!

• Boots: DSW

I am not a huge makeup wearer or fanatic, but I do appreciate the good stuff. I’ve got MAC next to Cetaphil next to NARS next to Neutrogena in my arsenal. If I love it and it works, that’s what matters. When my generous and lovely roommate at Camp Mighty gifted me this Naked2 palette from Urban Decay, I had no idea how much I’d fall in love with it!

These colors are perfect for my complexion and eye color! The 2-sided brush is fabulous quality and I’m having so much fun experimenting with color combos. Thank you, my fellow innie! 🙂

What I lack in my makeup prowess, I compensate with my addiction to winter hats.

the new lovelies

• Hats: Target. I kid you not. Get on my head!

I can’t post about style and not mention a huge key portion of my wardrobe – workout clothing. Uuuuuggggh, I finally caved and bought myself some Lululemon WunderUnders. If you haven’t read my post about how asscracks are a bad thing in CrossFit, go now. Trust me, these were a worthy investment and I have practically lived in them since I got them.

Lulus and fuzzy slippers = seksay!

Now, who’s going to stop me from buying this for myself for Christmas? Oh, the temptation.

*drooooooooooool.