Do you remember September?

Dear 29,
I loved last September. I put out a bunch of good vibes into the universe and was repaid with a month of awesome. This year, I think the universe just swallowed September up or to put it less dramatically, geesh this month went fast.

To summarize 2012's speediest month to date, let's recap:
- I danced at two weddings.
- Visited my grandparents' Dairy Queen at 1:30am.
- I caught my biggest fish yet. Oh and it had a mustache.
- I got acupuncture.
- I gave three speeches, Sara gave more than that, and we celebrated her 30th, and then I solo-semi-crashed a wedding.
- Sipped a dirty martini in a bank vault.
- I drew farm animals with my favorite four year old.
- Then we scotch club-ed.

Tonight Des Moines bids farewell to the infamous Anthony. At one point in time his family believed we'd get married in Thailand, so clearly this is a sad, but celebratory, occasion for me and the city. I'll miss you Tone.
xo-LP

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.
xo-LP

Packed to the gunwalls with surprises.

Dear 28,
2011 ended. 68 blogposts later, it's over.
This year was certainly full of surprises: full of unexpected thrills, unanticipated successes, shocking pain and unpredicted blessings. (Thank you thesaurus) I've been reflecting on my 2011, trying to come up with  my favorite bits, and while there were many, here's a few highlights. (Surprising ones of course)

It surprised me how much I love to wear yellow. I was surprised by how much talking in front of a crowd makes my knees shake. I was surprised by how quickly life can change, how much I miss her, how kind strangers could be and how senseless the world can seem. I was surprised by how thrilling a night of glitter and hairspray and lights and art can be. It surprised me that in a mere nine minutes I can give blood and life to someone. And then surprised by how quickly that can make me pass out.

I was surprised by the Paluchs and Rob Sheffield. I was surprised how the pillowy beds at the Double Tree in Springfield helped me actually rest on my vacation, how finding the kindest of people has made everyday better and that John Mellencamp completes all roadtrips. I was surprised by my songwriting skills when fueled by a day of Barilla and a pizza beret. It surprised me to see how these new digs have brought me so much joy. 

I was surprised by the most delicious cake of all time: buttercake. It surprised me just how awesome I was at wiffle ball during batting practice and just how terrible I was during the games. I was surprised by September, by every little bit of it, and delighted by it. I was surprised by a sushi dinner and the Alpine and the days and weeks and splendid months that continue to follow. (I will forever be in love with September) It surprised me that I have accidentally amazing aim when no-look throwing a bean bag. And I was surprised I still know how to win at euchre.

It surprised me how patient I can be while cooking french chicken in Tom's fancy kitchen. I was surprised by a fever at the end of Iowa's boring loss to Nebraska but still had a memorable day. It surprised me (and still does) that people buy and send my postcards and that they showed up in full supportive force at the Stoop for the party. It surprised me that I'd never been in the Hancock building and that I got to go, with my cool sister Jen. I was surprised by how many of us were able to come out for the BeThereBeStupid crawl and how much my whole family danced.

(thanks DMSC and Joe Crimmings for the pic)

I feel so excited for 2012. Like when you went to bed as a kid when the sky was pink and the weather lady was telling to you hunker down and be ready for a big snow and that snow-day excitement kept you up too late. That's how I feel. Like there might just be a whole bunch of metaphorical snow days. (and I know just who will send me an email laughing at this phrase.) Regardless, I can't wait.

Wishing you the very best in 2012.

xo-LP

Shamelessly self promoting.

Dear 29,
I finally stocked the Etsy site. So here's the shameless plug: POSTCARDS.

Look at that. A note that perfectly describes how you feel about your lovebug (it's annoying how much you are sweet on them? This is the postcard for you) and a cake themed note sending great day wishes.

I can't believe it either, but with September just about ten days away, it's nearly fall. And wouldn't you know it, I have a pun for that.
Stop by and check it out: http://ljpalmer.etsy.com
xo-LP

Mar and Wildcat.

Dear 29,
My family is probably more fun than yours.
No offense, but it's probably true. Mar and Wildcat are the coolest and as my dear friends Blake and Joanne get married this weekend, I can't help but think Labor Day weekend weddings must be something special.

This is Blake and Joanne. Handsome couple. Big wedding ahead.

Mar and Den got married September 4, 1976. There were lace sleeves and a family style dining experience was had by all. I wasn't there, but I can assume there was a lot of dancing.

Just to be clear, they are wearing clothes in this photo, which is my favorite of them.

I can say honestly that I didn't always think my family was more fun than yours. In fact I probably thought life was good to go at this point: one kid, first birthday, mom rocking a great hair cut, dad sippin an old style, me looking cute. If a one year old kid can form complete thoughts, I was thinking "man this is awesome."

A few years later there was another girl Palmer, then another, then another, and my dreams of being an only child probably increased (Jen, Kate and Jane: when I was fourteen I probably didn't like you as much as I do now, but when you were 12, 8 and 6, you probably didn't like me much either). We fought over who had to sit in the middle seat all managed to survive in a house with one shower, and grew up with smart, creative parents. Today I can't think of three ladies I like more than my sisters. (They might be more fun than your sisters. No offense.) We make a pretty amazing karaoke team.

They karaoke well too. Take note Jo and Blake. The couple that sings together stays together.

I can't wait to see a whole bunch of Palmers next week (see you soon K3) because my family is probably more fun than your family. No offense.

Wishing Mar and Wildcat a Happy 36th Wedding Anniversary.

And to Blake and Jo-- may your marriage be as much of an adventure as Mar and Wildcat's continues to be. These two taught me how to love fiercely, forgive (even when you don't want to), to fight for it and have a hell of a lot of fun. I wish the same thing for you.
xo-LP

It's the Freakin' Weekend Baby.

Dear 27,
I simply cannot believe it's August 27th.
Summer went by in the blink of an eye and suddenly it's Fall. The weather, the smell, the late rise of the sun in the morning (I've actually been up to the know this is true nearly everyday this week).
It feels like football, and Iowa City, and porch card games.
Looking forward to what's to come in September. I've hatched many an adventure for the 30 day month... stay tuned. I would fully expect my excitement to match this face from Christmas, 1987.

Thank you R.Kelly for your rap brilliance (I, too, don't see nothin' wrong), and Poladroid for causing sleep deprivation because your "make-your-pics-into-polaroids" tool is so much damn fun.
xo-LP

Go Go Month October!

Dear 29,
Back in April I wrote "The next race I'll be ready for."  
So in early summer, when it was announced that The Color Run was coming to Des Moines in October, I thought "oh hey let's run three times a week and get fit so you don't embarrass yourself while running through powder color clouds with everyone you know in Des Moines." I also thought "summer is probably going to go really slow." And then I thought "you'll have so much time to do everything you want to do this summer like blog, read everything Rob Sheffield* writes while keeping up on new gems in the music world, and shoot off at least four confetti cannons."

It was ok. My race buddy from 5k #1 jogged along with me.

But then it was September. So I thought "man summer was gulped up as fast as I watched Gossip Girl season 4." And then I thought "well dude, if you watched less Gossip Girl you'd probably have had more time to run."

And then, well then it was October 5th. The night before the race. And I sipped a moscow mule at the Alpine thinking "Looks like you're going to run a race again in the most awesomely unprepared way. Better get to bed, dude."

But hey I did it. Ran through a fine powder rainbow mist. The Color Run kicked off one seriously colorful month of October. Chelsea and I donned full spandex-blend suits and wore socks to a party last night. As evidenced by the photo below, we were some pretty serious power rangers. Go Go!

A super night. Now. I have to get back to Gossip Girl. And my second attempt at Pad Thai**. And Sleigh Bells.

xo-LP

*Dear Rob Sheffield, I know I haven't mentioned you in a blog post in a long time. 

**There's a draft blog post I've been writing called Thai one on. Expect it to be published eventually. Along with a post from three months ago about the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy. And one called "Tramps." At least one of them will end up on the blog.

Dear 28.

Dear 28,
I'll only be writing you this one last time. Tomorrow I start dedicating my letters and my new list to a new year: 29. This practice, the list making, has pushed me to learn all kinds of new things. Back when I made my list for year 23 (the first birthday I celebrated here in Des Moines), I had far different goals.

There are many things on this list I've since accomplished ("Learn the streets of downtown Des Moines" makes me laugh) and there are things on this list I wouldn't dream of doing these days (Tonic? Really 23-year-old LP? Tonic?) In year 28 I might not have scratched off each number on the list, but I sure enjoyed these last twelve months. Like in year 27, this blog (and all of you) pushed me to do some things I didn't think I could, to celebrate some things that might have gone unnoticed and to ask so many questions about everything. I learned a lot-- more about myself than anything else.

I made pasta with a real Italian chef and snuck wine into the Meredith test gardens. I went to prom again. I performed in a band (and then spoke of my tambourine prowess for many months after). I worked out with MMA fighters. I had all three of my beautiful sisters in Des Moines. I moved to a new and improved home where I can use a dishwasher, run central air and stoop. I met Ron, the Red Velvet girls and shared fried chicken with my dear friend. I learned a truly invaluable skill: the Lidgett pose.

I slow danced in a townie bar. I joined a cover band that has since performed thrice-ish. I learned the definition of magic from a bartender. I slept on a riverboat after being rocked by the Head and the Heart. Good golly I got a new car. I fell in love with September and cursed March. I had an art show. I wore a crown more than once. I met four artists who showed their work at the Des Moines Art Center. I rewrote an Adele song while wearing a pizza beret. I made Coq Au Vin. I saw Chicago from the Hancock Building.

I went on a hike. I watched Nebraska beat my Hawks. I ran two races without being chased. I drew naked people. I was on the front page of the Des Moines Register. I met a bunch of new and incredible people. I danced. I danced a lot. I cooked my first turkey (that I won in my first euchre tournament). I was introduced to the Bertha Butt Boogie. I took a lot of B12. I sold over 650 postcards.
This list would have shocked my 23-year-old self... or exhausted me. But today it makes me proud.
Thanks for being part of what turned out to be a pretty spectacular year. 28 was really great.
xo-LP