The night we met.

Our first photo together, two months after "our first date".

I’ve discussed here before how Terrence and I met on the interwebs. Tonight, however, I received some interesting information about the night we met face to face.

Me: Hey Terrence, the night we met… was that a date?
Terrence: Yes.
Me: Hmmph… interesting. Good to know. I guess that’s why you were so nervous.
Terrence: Uh huh.
Me: Hmmm… and a few days later when we went to the movies–
Terrence: That was definitely a date.

Seven years later and I am finally enlightened to the art of dating. I wore draw string pants and a grandma sweater the night we met… I call do over.

A look back in time.

I haven’t really been taking photos of Penny recently. I love her all the same, but lately we spend most of our down time cuddling, sleeping and crying rather than playing and snapping photos. Give us time, we’ll get back in the swing of things soon enough. But just to remind you how adorable Miss Pussycat is…

a teeny kitten.

!!! (For emphasis)

Who, What, Wear: Experimenting.

I have this rule when I shop online, which is where I do 90% of my shopping. The rule is, only cotton. I fell like in the last batch of years fabrics have become more and more cheap feeling. Whenever I go to stores I get grossed out by how awful the clothes feel by comparison to how much they cost. I’m confident that you can’t screw up cotton all that much, in my experience it’s always a been good choice. Sometimes I browse online and fall in love with something only to feel it in a store and be taken back by how cheap it feels. So, my experiment was this… try a new fabric… without being able to touch it first. I know, terrifying.

The dress is polyester, I was excited for its arrival and also very nervous. I was hoping it would be okay while keeping my trigger finger ready to hit print for the return label. Thankfully, everything turned out fine. I’ve worn the dress twice in the last three weeks, I’m absolutely smitten with it. The straps are a little long, but I’m used to it, this happens with most dresses on me. My mother is always ready for me to drop off piles of dresses for her to alter. I’m going to have to ask her about these blind stitches one day and be more self sufficient.

I’m growing braver with my fabric choices. Feeling a bit more daring. It’s comforting knowing I can always return things if they’re horrible. But it also helps to trust the shop you’re buying from… or in my case the website. Lately I’ve been testing the waters with handmade items from small online shops and random blogs. More on that soon. I’m starting to enjoy shopping again, which is nice. For a while all the crappy fabrics had me down. I would walk into a store and do a full circle right back out the door. I’d go months without having a new article of clothing and throw temper tantrums when I had to dress for events. I’m glad that their are some crafty young ladies out there making some great dresses now, I don’t know how I got on without them.

I hope my braveness rubs off on a few of you and you go out and do something out of closet character. Trust me, it’s lots of fun.

♥ Ana

Dress: Modcloth, Necklace: And Mary, Cardigan: H&M, Shoes: Charlotte Russe, Specs: Selima Optique, Tights: Target

To think, I once hated camera phones.

Last night Terrence asked me to cut his hair. This isn’t the after, this is the before… and trust me he doesn’t walk out of the house this way. I had to blow dry his hair in the direction of the growth before I began trimming. When I came around to the front of him I almost died. I was going to just keep this photo for my own personal collection, but then Terrence complained that I wasted his whole night with how slowly I was going. He kept groaning about how bored he was and whining like a girl. All this after I cut my finger open with the tips of my scissors and bled everywhere. Hmmph. Sweet revenge.

Hmm… If I gave him a uni-brow he’d almost look like a beardier Gallagher.

Have a drink at Cheers in Boston, Massachusetts.

Well, no one knew my name… except Terrence… but I’m okay with that. It took us hours to find this bar. The internet doesn’t really have a clear idea of which Cheers is the real one, but eventually we figured it out. At first it pointed us to a gift shop in a mall, then to a lame bar in some marketplace with cardboard cut outs of the cast members of the show. Terrence and I were both getting aggravated with one another trying to navigate around this foreign city, and it didn’t help that the internet kept fooling us.

But eventually after much walking and a hugely embarrassing public argument, we had finally found it.

You can see by the puss on my face that I’m still not very pleased with Terrence, it’s alright, alcohol was on the way.

That huge cup in my hand was intended to be a shot glass, I had already taken two significant swigs before this photo and had enough left for one more. See, the rage in my face had already begun melting away. I had asked for a shot a Patron, I’m not big on tequila but I figured since I wasn’t getting drunk I would do something painless and quick. I don’t like mixed drinks or beer so I only drink to get drunk and I don’t like to drink angry… the 3 in 1 shot was enough for me.

I sat at the corner, where Fraser would normally sit. I have this issue with being a tourist, it stems from wanting to punch all too many of them throughout my life in NYC. So I didn’t take too many photos of the bar, plus it was a huge tourist trap, which I found off putting. I could see where the inspiration for the shows bar had come from and I liked that, but the bar had lost its individuality. Once the Bull and Finch Pub, now although if you look really hard the name is in very small print here and there, but nothing is as profound as the big Cheers signs. Its on the napkins and the cups, the staffs uniforms. They even created a set bar on the second floor, if the rest of the bar wasn’t touristy enough for you. I actually thought the original bar downstairs looked more like the set bar then the pretend one upstairs. Terrence asked if I wanted him to photograph it but I declined it was kind of lame.

Unlike Sam and Woody the bartender there wasn’t very attentive, in fact he wasn’t even there for a while and it took ages to get our drinks and even longer to get the check. But the small child in me was elated to just be there.

After leaving I immediately called my mother to tell her where I was and she was super excited, as was I.

That’s her on the phone and my excitement.

After leaving Terrence and I took a walk through the park and had a super tasty and hugely filling dinner and met up with a friend at a far less gimmicky bar. By the end of the night we’d forgotten all about our embarrassing blowout… it was a long day. In the end it was nice to curl up in our hotel bed and fall asleep to the always pleasant and sorely missed food network.

More on our tip up north on a later date, I mean… I haven’t even disclosed the details of our trip down south from last year. Huge stories like these overwhelm me.

Give me down to there hair, Pt 4.

I’ve stopped wearing my hair pin straight, I no longer have to in order to get the length I want. I also dislike my hair being straight with this haircut. My curling iron is my best pal. When it came time to take this months photo (back in September) I didn’t want to flatten it, and gave up on getting it pin straight… but you can still see the length.

Its been so long since my last hair post, I thought I’d remind us how far we’ve come. With all that happened in October I hadn’t bothered to take a monthly photo. When it comes time to do so this month the difference will be much more apparent.

I wish I could say that I recall the milestones from September, but sadly I don’t. But back in October my girlfriend, Amanda, told me that she liked my hair and asked if I would consider keeping it short. Eh? I will be cutting my hair this month, but not to keep it short, only to start fixing the horrible haircut. Nothing significant, I’ll most likely keep the length but tend to the horribly choppy and uneven layers. More news on that to come shortly briefly.

Part One.
Part Two.
Part Three.

Year Two, Month Twelve. (24 of 192)

I absolutely love this song. I think St. Vincent continues to get better with each album, which is nice since most artists are doing the opposite these days. I hope that has nothing to do with my getting older and it really just is the music industry. I don’t want to be that adult stuck in the music past. Fingers crossed.

St. Vincent, Cruel

Riley’s Soundtrack, Year 2.
October | Sea Talk
November | All Of The Lights / Indestructible
December | Wasting Time
January | Weekend
February | I Follow Rivers
March | Heart In Your Heartbreak
April | Bizness
May | Helplessness Blues
June | East Harlem
July | Midnight City
August | Video Games
September | Cruel


I know it’s been several weeks since I’ve shown my face around here, I’m sorry for dropping off the web.  This post has been extraordinarily hard to produce.  If any of you have seen my most recent twitter updates you know that we had to put our dog, Dutch, down.  It was a very difficult time for our family and friends, Dutch was and is a very beloved member of our circle… he’s irreplaceable.

I first met Dutch when I was thirteen, he was my brother Marc’s friends dog.  When he was still a puppy he came to live with us, along with my brothers friend.  I initially didn’t care for Dutch, I had recently lost my dog to an illness and was in no mood to deal with an out of control puppy.  He humped everything, everyone… even small children. Thankfully that faze ended quickly.  Not long after arriving my brothers friend left, leaving his dog behind.  And that’s how we came to possess Dutch.  He was our family dog for eight years before we moved on and out into our own homes, at which point my brother took Dutch to live with him, Terrence and I took him for a week here and there.  My brother wasn’t home very often and felt bad leaving Dutch lonely all day, Terrence jumped at the opportunity to take Dutch permanently, and that’s how he once again became my dog.

He never met anyone that didn’t instantly love him, mine and my brothers friends, Terrence’s friends and family, even strangers on the street and from the internet, he was incredible that way.  Sometimes when I’d mention to people that I had a pit bull they would instantly shudder, not understanding the breed itself and only going by their media soaked opinions.  Sometimes they’d have to fortune of meeting Dutch and having their minds quickly altered, he had that affect on people.

Dutch loved the snow, he’d run and jump into mounds of it and enjoyed snowball fights.  He loved when children were around and kissed their faces and let them tug on his ears and attempt to ride him as if he were a pony.  We shared a fork, it made Terrence squirm with disgust but I adored sharing meals with my pup.  In the mornings he would roll over to his back and play, sometimes I thought he had an itch he was desperately trying to satisfy, but it was probably just for fun.  He fetched sticks and balls, once we even tried to teach him to carry the mail in his mouth.  He learned to play dead at ten, even though everyone said you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.  He loved his sister Penny, although he was often jealous, he’d play tag with her and they’d chase each other around the apartment.  She’d cry at the door or window when we took him on his walks, once he came through the door she would jump up onto him or kiss his face, as if he’d been gone for years.  He played dress up with us without putting up a fight.  He would curl up with us during movie nights and steal the popcorn.

People say pit bulls have a life expectancy of nine to ten years, Dutch far surpassed that.  In February we learned that he had a life threatening tumor, he survived that too.  In the end he simply lost use of his legs from arthritis.  Climbing the stairs became a challenge for him, my mother suggested giving him a small vacation at her apartment.  She has a yard and lives on the first floor.  The day we were set to pick him up he had fallen, my mother called us in a panic, she wasn’t able to get him up.  Terrence rushed over assuring me that it was okay and that he was going to get him up and bring him home.  With no such luck we took him to the vet, she essentially told us that it was futile to keep him going and that he legs didn’t have much left.  She asked us if we were ready to say goodbye.  I looked at my dog, my best friend of fourteen years and said no, today was not his day.  She lowered the table and he walked right off of it, as if he were playing a trick that had gone terribly wrong.  I left Terrence with the vet to discuss his new medications.  Dutch walked right out of that office and down the block and in circles, just to prove he could.  The rest of the day he played with Penny and paced around my mothers apartment soliciting pats from all her guests.  Sadly that night he lost his mobility again.  After three long days of Terrence rubbing his legs and changing his warm compresses, carrying him in and out of the apartment so he could sit in the grass, sleeping with him on the floor and feeding him by hand, we decided it was time.  We cried and we begged for him to get up, but he was done now.  He refused to eat, he’d just lay there on the floor moaning.  It killed us to make that choice, but I feel that he may have made it first.  We called our closest friends and family and hung out on the floor with Dutch that last day, then like a procession we drove to the vet.

I sat with him in the back seat on the ride over, he looked me in the eyes the entire time.  He was calm, more relaxed then he’d been in days, he knew… this time was his time and he and I were okay with that.  I hugged him tight and held on to Terrence’s arm… and then he was gone.  I held onto Dutch and inhaled him deep, then I walked out the door and could barely breathe.  I went around the side of the building and let it all out, all the strength that I had for Terrence and my family, I let go, I grieved for my loss and for my dog, for my child, for my best friend.  I screamed, not because it wasn’t fair… but because it wasn’t familiar, it wasn’t normal, it was completely empty… surreal.

Two days later it was his fourteenth birthday, we were set to have a party for him and we didn’t cancel it.  We celebrated the life of our dearest friend with all of the people that loved him.  We laughed and told stories, we cried and hugged each other, Terrence got drunk… he says that’s how the Irish grieve.  I let him have that.  Sometimes the cat still cries at the door, sometimes I think I hear him or see him from the corner of my eye.

People have suggested that we replace Dutch, that that will somehow erase the pain of our loss.  Personally I feel that it’s insensitive to say so, but I understand that it’s not uncommon and its what a lot of people do.  These people have obviously never had a dog as uniquely awesome as mine.  So we’ll be doing this the old fashioned way, we’re going to cry when the mood hits us and as time goes by it’ll happen less often… until it stops.

*This video was originally intended for his birthday, after his passing it began to take another tone. It was tough, but I had to finish it.