On April 28th.

Dear 29,
I got carded today at Dahl's. Here I sit, 25 days from year 30, and I got carded. I think it's this ribbon headband I'm wearing that made the high-schooler behind the counter take an extra look at my need-to-renew-for-the-first-time-since-2007 ID. In 25 days I'm entering a new decade. My friends who have already crossed into their fourth decade (Thanks for the correction on that Tim. Would hate to have mistakenly called this my third decade) swear by their thirties. "So much better." "Seriously so much better."

If you'd take your focus off the two attractive dudes, you'd note I look younger in a headband. Particularly one made of bubble wrap. Note this was for an event. I wasn't wearing a hair accessory made of packing material today.

I'm feeling pretty guilty about the inadequate end to the 29th year on the blog. The list is blindingly unfinished. Fairfield Iowa is 1 hour and 53 minutes away from here. Homemade root beer consists of more than root beer flavoring, soda water and dry ice. (Spoiler alert. "Brew" involves actual brewing. Wrong word choice there, past-Laura. Should have gone with "Make my own root beer." That's a much more make-it-work-able sentence.) I haven't even considered camping until today due to a winter that lasted long into the fourth month of this year. I can't even explain what "Publish the Cookbook" means anymore after the idea has morphed, waned and come back to life at least three times since last May.

Currently drawing random recipes on a waxy paper meant to be a paint palette.

The list is more unfinished than it has been since the inception of this blog. When I look back on this 29th year, I can't say it was my most favorite, but I can say I learned more about myself this year than in any other I can remember. Maybe that's why there were less posts and more reflective moments (also known as panic attacks, celebrations, to do lists or Saturdays at home). A lot has changed in this finale year of my twenties. With 25 days left I vow to do my best, to cross off at least three more list items and to spend some time figuring out how the documentation of year 30 will be a little bit different. (New decade, new medium. Duh.)
xo-LP

It's me.

Dear 29,
We're sitting at just about 7 weeks from 30 and, well, let's face it, the blog, and the blog's author, we just aren't what we used to be. Days fly by without a word written. Even the number of draft posts (14) keeps dwindling. I haven't even "attempted" to post. Even my use of quotation marks, which I honestly almost called parentheses, is odd and unnecessary. Something isn't clicking between the two of us (insert joke about all the readers I used to have not clicking on my site anymore).

It's not that 29 hasn't been good to me. I mean, the winter has been far too long, but other than that I just feel older than I did at 27, not less inspired, less adventurous or less like I'm an hilarious writer. It's not that there aren't things to say, it's just that in year 29, this hasn't been the best way to say them. So here we are about 50 days from a whole new decade and we're at a crossroads. A metaphorical one, just so we're clear about that.

So what's the solution? That's a serious question, not a rhetorical one. We've had a great run, and I'm not saying it's over, but we seem to find less and less to talk about. In 1,200 hours, year 29 will wrap up. What's next is mostly unclear, but a new list is a foregone conclusion (the first time I've ever written that phrase, I'm not even completely sure I used it correctly). Something has to change to make this work, because a blog isn't really a blog unless somebody is willing to invest in this relationship. I guess we have some thinking to do.

But seriously. It's not you. It's me.

xo-LP

A redo of August: Tramps.

Dear 29,
Again, an unfinished thought for us all to ponder. I've learned from this re-reading-of-posts-that-never-officially-hit-the-blog that the majority of posts that don't get published have a title I think is super funny, one or two photos I think are super funny and then I can't seem to write content that makes it funny to anyone other than me or someone featured in the photo. Exhibit B.
"Tramps"
(August 15, 2012)
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Dear 29,
Tramps is short for trampoline.

thanks for the photo liz.

The arches of your feet will hurt for a full three days afterwards. And Firework is an awesome tramp dance song. (Again, tramp is short for trampoline)
August is awesome
xo-LP
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February 2013 commentary: This photo was taken at skyzone after it was too rainy and cold to float down a river in a tube. It was probably too shallow too. I love tubing, of course. This had to have been the one day it rained in August since we were in the midst of a drought. I wore a strange outfit because I wasn't quite sure what you are supposed to wear to a room full of trampolines. There aren't any pinterest boards dedicated to trampoline fashion. We played dodgeball with children under 10. We accidentally knocked over children under 10. I found it incredibly difficult to climb out of a foam pit after launching yourself into it from a set of tramps. I probably looked like a left handed cat trying to escape a bag of sugar coated donut holes. Not pretty. I will say that I recommend you drop $10 and bounce around this place for an hour (be careful though, I hear it's a pretty easy place to bust an ankle, but then again, sidewalks around Sherman Hill in the winter are pretty risky too.)

That's me dunking. And wearing my sweatshirt as a cape. In related news: Happy Bday MJ.

Potential blog topics that could have helped finish this post: What do you wear into a room full of trampolines? Why didn't I start a pinterest board dedicated to tramp attire? (hilarious) What are real trampoline athletes called? How annoyed were the children who had their time at skyzone interrupted by 20 and 30 somethings bouncing around? When can we go back to skyzone? Had we actually gone tubing down a shallow river, how do you protect yourself from a) snagging your swimwear on the countless river rocks that will be really near the water surface (because of the drought, duh) and b) from being uncomfortable seated in a tube, blasted by sunlight? 
But a better question: Where do I find a picture of a left handed cat trying to escape a bag of sugar coated donut holes?

I'll say it again, this post was clearly hilarious to me, but not to the masses. Because I want to appeal to the mass audience (of 7) who still read my occasional blog posts that have become increasingly unfunny over the years, I've included this super embarrassing photo of myself falling off a floor tramp and onto a wall tramp. You're welcome. Now that I've successfully/regrettably shared that, I think I'll tackle the draft-post about 50 Shades of Grey. Look forward to that one. There's a High School Musical reference.
xo-LP

A master of the unfinished thought.

Dear 29,
I write a lot of drafts of blog posts. A lot. Lots. Seriously. After a blog hiatus, I spent a little time cleaning out the post-stash. There's a lot of unfinished business around here. Some posts failed because, well honestly, there wasn't a whole lot more to say, but today I'm exposing my unfinished thoughts. Putting them out there for us to laugh about together. So here we go.
"Just look how outdoorsy I've become."
(Fall-time, 2012)
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Dear 29,

That's really it. A furry hat, Bass Pro Shop and fishing accessories.

February 2013 commentary: That's all. Clearly I wanted to post silly photos of myself that I found completely hilarious. What's funnier than a freckled face framed in fur? I KNOW, a picture of a giant fish body pillow held up like it was just caught in a lake/stream/fish-filled-body-of-water. What can you really say about a Bass Pro Shop photoshoot that hasn't been said in that first line? I have been to Bass Pro Shop at least 4 times in the last eight months, but still haven't bowled, which saddens me, but I have learned a lot about the outdoors. HBF actually shops there, I spend time looking at the feathers they use to make flies, other shoppers, camo-fashions, and studying the fish. Once I sat in a camo-recliner. 

This is a real catfish. I caught it. It's not as big as the body pillow. It's actually as big as my foot.

Potential blog topics that could have helped finish this post: Who buys a camo-recliner? Who sleeps with a catfish body pillow? How many freckles are on my face? Was I the only person wearing silk at Bass Pro that night? Do I always open my eyes that wide when I'm mocking myself?

In case you wanted to see another shot from that night. Yes. I did pose with a backdrop that was meant for children.

Now that I'm re-reading this, I realize this post couldn't really be improved upon, but instead of throwing in the towel, I'm putting my beige-heeled-feet-in-Bass-Pro out there for us all to see. Just a few months until thirty now, (in this case "few" is less than four months) and this list in year 29 is less than finished, much like most of my posts have been lately. As a master of the unfinished thought, I have a lot of work to do to cap off a year full of genius plans with a little execution. The post-stash of drafts ends today. Look for old ideas to resurface before 3-0 strikes.

I better go get a few pushups in if this pull-up is going to happen. 

xo-LP

loooooooooove.

Dear 29,
I love a good valentine. Puns + Love notes + awholelottahearts. Sigh.

Happy Valentine's Day.
xo-LP

Eastbound.

Dear 29,
I'm nearly eastbound headed out on my first flight in months and months. (or at least 6 months) After many years of travels, I've been grounded, in a nice way, for awhile now. But tomorrow, bright and early, I'll be airborne and jetting east. Back to New York City.

Looking forward to a trip filled with city style, menswear celebrities and little adventures in the big apple. Follow along (how interactive) with my silly instagram hashtag: #LPinNYC. Yep. A self-serving hashtag for the trip. Can't wait.
xo-LP

So many promises.

Dear 29,
Mighty shellfish* of me to show off these fancy snow crab legs that we celebrated day one of 2013 with, but I'm doing it anyway.

Some hot legs. Too far? Maybe.

In my last post I mentioned a little list of promises for 2013. Rather than resolutions (which are really just intentions), I'm working on a list of promises to myself and to a few others this year. So many good things ahead, but lots of work to get there. This fancy set of crustacean limbs feeds (pun intended) one such promise: Cook more at home. I won't share them all on the blog because, let's face it, we all hear enough about what I WANT TO DO and see all the lists I have out there for the world to see.

The remains of a fancy dinner. Not so pretty after it's devoured.

There were so many well cooked meals already in 2013. I took this promise pretty seriously for these first 8 days, but let me tell you, I have a hard time staying in when so many great dining spots exist in DSM. (These links take you to a few of my very favorites) I do love to cook, though. It's like making delicious art. Or, less poetically, it's fun. Endless internet sources leave me combing Martha, Jamie, Chow and Bon Appetit, plus about 187 food blogs, every Saturday (literally. and I'm using the word correctly here.) Some might say I'm obsessive.

One of my favorite dishes to cook up: Risotto. All kinds of mushrooms hanging out too.

Collecting cookbooks, foodie magazines, kitchen tales from friends and new Macguyver style meals (it's been awhile since I brought that up. What do you think blogland? Do I bring back the Macguyver style recipe post?) has become a pretty serious, fattening hobby for both me and the HBF. I'm hungry just thinking about it.

First attempt at scallops at home. Easy on the budget and darn tasty.

In an effort to uphold the aforementioned promise as well as another (Save money for that grown up life ahead), I'll be gourmet-ing a whole bunch this winter. What are your favorite recipe sources? Where do you find feastpiration? (believe it or not I just made up this word.) Share them all.
Now. I must eat.

xo-LP

*A most hilarious joke. I can't stop laughing about it. It's crackin me up.**
**Another hilarious joke.

Onward.

Dear 29,
I wrote and rewrote an end of year post for 2012. A bunch. After last year's great year end post, I really didn't have much to say about 2012 that was poetic, thoughtful or funny. In 50 blog posts I captured just a bit of what 2012 felt like (including some rough patches and bigtime celebrations). But I can say this: 2012 was all about gaining momentum and forward movement. Finally, according to my big fancy horoscope and my general feeling about the world, everything started to fall into place, slowly, but in a way I haven't felt in awhile.

I'm so grateful for the friends, family and colleagues that made the challenges, changes and triumphs of 2012 bearable and, even more so, completely awesome. Onward to 2013. Even bigger things on the horizon. Thanks for sticking with the blog. I'll be doing my best to keep a list of promises to myself (and to others) in this lucky year 2013, one of them: Write more.
Cheers to the year ahead.
xo-LP

Jolly.

Dear 29,
I'm a few days late, but Merry Holidays. It certainly was a special one.

(And yes, that is a jello shot Christmas tree.)
xo-LP

Snowday.

Dear 29,
I haven't written about snow. I had to search "snow" in the blog search option and the only references to snow aren't actually about snow. (That sentence made no sense) But you might remember me talking about 2012 in terms of snow days...this one was for real. Complete with over a foot of snow. (That hasn't happened here in Des Moines in a year or more.)

Wednesday night the storm predictions started pouring in, so I stocked up on cinnamon rolls, my new wine crush, chips, dips and curled up in this patriotic blanket to hunker down and wait out the storm. Have you heard of thundersnow? (That's a real thing) Basically it's a thunderstorm with snow rather than the rain, but you probably figured that out already.

There was a whole lotta this. (See above) Trees down over still blanketed streets. My sweet little Honda was trapped in a parking lot and patches of ice that even four wheel drive didn't like. According to Instagram, the whole city was celebrating snow days with booze or fancy photos of icicles. I wrote Christmas postcards at the Star Bar, crosslegged in a booth, while sipping bloody marys with a weird ponytail, a sweatshirt and wellies. (There were only 5 other people there. So no one really noticed my strange drawing in a booth behavior, or the ponytail)

OH and then there was snow day #2. But I did manage to snap this lovely shot of Sherman Hill. This neighborhood looks mighty fine in the show. 

Cheers to an actual snowday. And near Christmas. And a safe trip to muskietown.

xo-LP