Long Island Iced Teas, Ron and a little Dress Shop.

Dear 28,

It was time to vacate. Or at least skip out of Des Moines for awhile. Armed with Cheez-Its, a few planned stops and a stack of old mixtapes (ok they were actually CDs and most were made by Kate Palmer) Chelsea and I hit the road hoping the Focus (I'm working on #21) would make it the 715 miles to and from sunny Springfield, MO. Here's some of the trip highlights:

#1: Strouds. The greatest fried chicken I've ever tasted. And oh. The gravy.

#2: Osceola Cheese. There were hundreds of cheese samples. And a line of people (like a real line, running the length of the truck stop cheese shop) waiting to sink their toothpick into morel+leek cheese, goat's milk gouda, dill monterey jack or some other kind of block cheese as they move ever so slowly from the soft cheeses down to the beef sticks. We joined in (how could you not) but as much as we love cheeses, Osceola was a lot to take in. Bizarre. And apparently a landmark on the way to Springfield. We stopped twice. Seriously.

#3: Houlihan's at the fancy Double Tree Hotel. After finally getting to town and checking into Springfield's finest (thank you Hilton Honors) we decided a relaxed evening of taking in the city was just what we needed. So logically we hit the hotel bar patio. We sat in loungy deck chairs for hours, watching the people of Springfield walk across busy intersections, admired sketchy Route 66 motels (and pondered the illegal activity that could go on there), and sipped on fancy $1.50 Long Island Iced Teas. People of Springfield: we salute your happy hour pricing. The waiter suggested we go to the movies, or visit the Bass Pro Shop. I also wore, for the first and only time, my fancy Hawaii 5-0 Hill Vintage gown. It's a statement. 

#4: Downtown Springfield, MO. We visited the shops that were brave enough to be open on a Monday, which were few. The guy who owns 5 Pound Apparel told us all about his business model (for every one of their "branded" items they sell, they donated 5lbs of food-type goods to a charity: Nepal Nutrition.) He also talked to us about the city of Springfield, the many businesses that have failed to survive downtown and the opportunity there is in this somewhat-economically-depressed-community for young business owners. He suggested we hit the Bass Pro Shop.

We lunched at the darling creperie, The Aviary (where we accidentally sat next to a blog idol). We dined and wined at lunch sharing this salted caramel crepe that "tastes like a little bit of bliss."

#5: Elwood, MO and the man named Ron. We got a little lost driving around. In part because we were listening to John Mellencamp with the windows down and the heated breeze rushing into the Focus and we were feeling like the most American of ladies. But also because we didn't want to use the air conditioner or the GPS. We ended up in a town so small I can't even link to a map of it because Google Maps can't find it.

While we were snapping pics of ourselves in front of the Willard water tower (please note we were indeed in Elwood, not Willard. Ron confirmed this) we were whistled at by Ron, the owner of the ancient service station we'd parked in front of. Ron is a devout Christian, an avid hunter, a proud grandfather and a veteran. He talked water fowl hunting with Chelsea for nearly thirty minutes and called my eyes "blue" (fyi- they are not). His shop was filled with items covered in dust, t-shirts bleached by the sun, antique farming tools and taxidermically preserved hunting trophies. He taught us about what a good marriage needs, assured us that Chelsea and I would be lifelong friends and he too suggested we go to Bass Pro Shop. We count meeting Ron as a serendipitous highlight of our vacation. 

The man Ron.

#6: The (original) Bass Pro Shop. After every Springfield resident we spoke to suggested we visit, we caved and went to the place that appears to be like "Disneyland for hunters." We were in and out in less than 10 minutes.

#7: Farmers Gastropub and then to Nonna's. We had dinner. Twice. And once again: we thank the people of Springfield for their reasonably priced and delicious fare.

#9: Red Velvet Shop. Our final stop before heading north was the reason for our trip. Elsie writes a blog I love to read, and has a charming shop in an up-and-coming Springfield neighborhood.

We browsed the shop packed with vintage clothing, tried on dresses and visited with the sisters at Red Velvet. They were kind and helpful and even packed up a couple cake pops for the ride home.

The road trip was an adventure-- and I had the perfect sidekick. And although we enjoyed what Springfield showed us, Des Moines was a happy place to come home to.

xo- LP

There's a pizza beret on my head.

Dear 28,
I love the days that start and end perfectly. (Even if the "perfect ending" involves poorly playing a guitar that's being held like a modified violin while singing and giggling and trying to musically illustrate zodiac signs until you laugh so hard you actually tear up.)

Due to the kindness of Tom, we hit one of the new Winefest activities for an "interactive cooking session" with Barilla's head chef. (This happened in June. I must get better at timely blogging...) We made those most delectable pasta (with cheese that was the most delicious cheese I've ever tasted. And was flown in from Italy the day prior. So it probably will continue to be the most delicious cheese I've ever tasted. Until I go to Italy.) I was volunteered to be chef #1 (that's the first to cook, not necessarily the best) and barring a few comments from the man at the table who loves his salt, I did pretty well for cooking under pressure and to the direction of an Italian speaking man.

A video exists of me cooking and will be posted once I get it. It's not that funny.

We had course #2 cooked by a far more experienced chef and then headed out to the lovely Meredith Test Garden for dessert, smuggled wine and general merriment. Barilla wasn't the end of the day, but rather the start to a wild one. We ended up at the Gas Lamp right as it opened. We met people, ruled the soundtrack and drew on any scrap of paper I was handed. 

(Thanks Adrienne)

It was really one of those perfect Des Moines days that we're still talking about. And really, when you end the evening wearing a pizza beret, what's not to talk about.

xo-LP

So you want to support a postcard empire? Perfect.

Dear 28,
After a blogging hiatus I know many readers have jumped the xo-lp ship (hey I get it, I should post more to  keep your interest in this 28th year of my life), but if you're still here-- I could use your help.

As I continue working on my little side biz, I have realized that while I've created, sent and enjoyed making a whole slew of postcards, I rarely (or haven't really ever) documented what I've been sending. Terrible. I know. So here's where you come in. To save me.

At some point I hope I've sent you something like this (see above.) If so, snap a quick photo of it (on that fancy phone, your sweet camera or even scan it) and upload it HERE. 

You'll be helping me create a bitty portfolio (and catalogue my ideas). And I will be eternally grateful.

Thanks a whole bunch. You're the greatest 9 readers in all the blogland.

xo-LP

Hey June.

Dear 28,
June has been wild. So wild I haven't known where to start the writing of the recap. Full of blogable adventures and poorly written attempts at documenting it, here's a glimpse of what's been happenin.

June kicked off with a work trip. Finally getting back on the road with a little reluctance (it's been hard to feel much like being away about this. I miss her. So much. Daily.) I made it through, even planned another upcoming excursion to Minnesota in the near future and revisited our favorite spot: Cooper. I also purchased shoes dipped in gold. Nothing is really as cool as that. I had my first (and my second) Tacopocalypse tacos (thanks Sam!), celebrated the first sparklers of the summer, supported the Des Moines Metro Opera and this guy while enjoying the sweet sounds of Wicker and the Cabaret. (Whew. Run on sentences.) 

Then drank beer with Liz and lions and tigers and giraffes, ate lunch at an historic Des Moines Deli that's also Food Network famous, imbibed on the best patio in town after poaching some margaritas, oh and saw a little rock show. For the record, The Head and The Heart and Iron and Wine. (I'm exhausted and presumably broke just thinking about it.)

Then there was the oh-so-rebelious yarn bombing and the IOWA bourbon (which caused a discussion about whether or not it can officially be called bourbon- the debate was not over taste, however, which was delicious.) And finally, the discovery of this ridiculously odd tune.

Big news coming on the postcard process. Hoping to be in full production mode by July 15.
Look forward to hearing details about the big Missouri road trip, a fancy Barilla luncheon and why Sundays don't seem to suck anymore...
(Yes. A full post. Stop worrying. More to come.)
xo-LP

Nearly 30 days later.

Dear 28,
I'm suffering from bloggers block. (That's what the official term is for "I've been too busy/lazy to write lately and every time I try something unfunny shows up in a post that gets saved but never published.")

 

Someday I'll write with wit again.

Until then. 

xo- LP

Dressing the part.

Dear 28,

I'm already crossing bits off the list. (And have already found several things that should/could/probably will be added). I'm so happy to see the silly little list become part of the lives of the people I spend time with. It's a collective effort- not just mine anymore. I love it.

Chelsea and I stopped by the Art Center for the unveiling of this year's Des Moines Arts Festival commemorative poster, which features the super talented (and modest) Michael Kuseske. I'm not sure how my name got on the invite list, but it was one of those nights where I was reminded how special this city is, how beautiful the Art Center is and how cool my friends are. 

My dear friend Laura got married this weekend at a wedding that felt so personal and original. The kind of wedding where you felt so lucky to witness the way these two people love each other. We rode a boat down the mighty Mississippi, I wore a bolo tie and we got to hear Joey sing to his bride. (Yes, like in the most perfect movie wedding moment.)

My birthday continued in Muscatine with a Denny Palmer rice krispie treat.

Finally, I keep watching this over and over. I'm sure you've seen it, but JR + Art + TED continues to inspire me. It makes me want to send postcards to everyone with a mailbox or at least everyone in my address book. I should get back to drawing, and sending thank you notes, and enjoying a perfect Monday.

xo-LP

Rejected!

Dear 28,
When I started writing out my 27 things back in May of 2010, I knew that I wanted to challenge myself, do some silly things I hadn't done before ("see a movie alone" was far less awesome and intimidating than I thought), further explore (and eventually fall in love with) my city and basically go on many adventures. (Which I did. Here. Here and Here.)
I think the most exciting part about the 27 list was the other stuff I did- the things I learned, the being more spontaneous, the soaking in everything while it was happening. I felt ultra-aware of what I was doing, how much fun it was, what was thrilling, who was there, what they said, what I saw. All because I wanted to write about it (some great posts. other mediocre.)
That kind of living is addicting.

When putting together the list for 28, I started with a big, big list of random (and some slightly ridiculous) items and had some loyal readers and friends weigh in with suggestions. After listening to the super cool kids from Make\Break talk about Rejection in their podcast, I felt inspired to hold onto some of my less loved list items. Here's a few of the rejects:
- See the Bridges of Madison County
I couldn't bring myself to read the book-which should come as no surprise-so I'm not sure seeing the actual Bridges sounds as exciting as something far more vague. Like see a monument. Although it does look charming. Maybe I'll see the movie instead.
- Buy cowboy boots
This guy (see photo) wears cowboy boots all the time. And does it well. I really just wanted to be more like him. And then realized that I probably couldn't wear pencil skirts with honkeytonk boots. Rejected.

- Play Laser Tag
I'm sure at least one of you will read this and feel disappointed that it's not on the official list...that doesn't mean it can't happen. But I think I'd end up getting hurt somehow. And writing about laser tag makes me want to watch How I Met Your Mother.
- Get a pet
It goes without saying that this is a terrible idea. I'm just now starting to like animals (sorry Jen and Kate) and I am never home. A fish has potential. We might get along swimmingly. But that didn't stop me from desperately wanting to take this dog home with me back in March. Shared custody puppy raising seemed brilliant while drinking vanilla-greyhounds out of a mason jar.

- Flip. A. Table.
I am not a New Jersey Housewife. I am not even that aggressive of a person (I don't even make a fuss when someone budges in front of me at Dahls. And really I should.) Sorry Adrienne. I think I'll leave this one to you. And will gladly film it.
- Go fishing
Going camping sounds scary enough.

Thanks for all the notes and excitement surrounding the list of 28. I've already started working on some!
(I ran this morning. When I say "run" I mean I'm thankful for Emily who didn't mock me at all during the brutal 1.5 miles.)
xo-LP

Dear 28,

Dear 28,
The wrap up post has been written. The header has been changed. (What do you think?) The new list has been posted, facebooked and approved by my sister. The love letter is officially being written to a new year. GO.

I celebrated a bigtime birthday weekend that spanned 3 days and included time with Kate (her hair is indeed naturally blond and she is indeed awesome) and her first Fongs experience. There was a man dressed as a hot dog. Who fell on the floor.

Then there was the super terrific backyard bbq (where the gifts, the people and the words were so thoughtful I'm still floating around town on a high). Thanks so much Sara and Beka for being the kindest hostesses. Seriously. There was a book signed (for real) by the Rob Sheffield. That was written to me. (I still don't know how you Paluchs pulled that one off.) At one point I had to stand back and admire all the remarkable people in my life. It was perfect. (And then there were finale drinks at my favorite happy hour spot, Django, last night. 3 birthday parties isn't too much is it?)

I'm so unbelievably excited for 28.
xo-LP

Dear 27.

Dear 27,
We made it. The world didn't end. Don't worry, but this 27th year ends tonight.
I'm having a hard time writing. And truthfully I'm not sure I have the right words for it. I've been typing and retyping this final post of 27 for hours. I keep getting caught up in photos and archives and stories.
This year has been magical.

I learned a whole bunch of new things. Like how to make Southern style creamed corn. Or that I can make the post office funny. Or that New York City will overwhelm and thrill you simultaneously. Or that a little mixtape swap can be a big hit.

I laughed so damn much. And mostly at myself. Like the time when I wore that weird (and inappropriate) tank top. Or the time where I did open mic night. Or when "Wildcat Den" took over Tampa. Or when I told Britt Daniel his song was just ok.

I'm not sure what I expected this blog to be. I started writing because I wanted a way to hold myself accountable (and I knew that at least my sister Jen would read it.) And that if I had a public list of to dos, I'd have to at least try to achieve most of them. It has become a place to document my life in it's exquisite detail. And here I am, a year and 141 posts later, a braver, calmer and livelier person than I was before.

I couldn't be more grateful. I feel overwhelmed by the kindness and the brilliance of all of these wonderful people in my world, especially after the big celebration last night. You've made my life so much brighter. And I mean this in a true and profound way. I feel more alive than ever.
Onto 28. I think it'll be great.
(And I'll be toasting to you with my Templeton at midnight.)
xo-LP

Being Reflective.

Dear 27,
I adore birthdays. I love that we each get a day that's all about us. That there's one day where shameless, joyful celebration is not simply allowed, but encouraged. (I usually push the limits and give myself 3 days of birthdayness. It's that much fun.)

Palmers at birthday #27.

But I have to be honest, the week leading up to my own birthday is usually messy. I think too much (I realize I do this all the time, but pre-birthday-thinking is heightened analyzation) I have started my usual questioning of if where I am this year is better than where (and who) I was on the cusp of 27.

Did I grow enough? Am I proud of my actions and reactions? Am I stronger and wiser? Have I learned new things? Have I been a better citizen, a kinder friend, a more conscientious sister? Have I smiled more, complained less, loved a whole bunch and celebrated wild adventures?

(You'll have to excuse me for being overly reflective.)

In this 27th year of life, rather than just obsess over my (somewhat insane) questioning, I can look through archives, review a list, dig through thousands of photos (yes. all data recovered. I love you Apple people). So much has inspired me, challenged me, surprised me, frustrated me, impressed me, and educated me.

And it's all here. I can read it, notice how in 2010 I was a funnier writer, realize that most of the photos I've taken of myself are ridiculous (many examples provided for you in this post) and marvel at just how much fun this year has been. 

In the next 4 days I'll highlight some of my favorite parts of year 27, reveal the big list of 28 (hotly anticipated I'm sure) and probably write more overly personal and terribly grateful sentences.

I just hope I write like it's 2010 again.

xo-LP