Author: abby mumford

feelings

wonder woman

abby mumford

it started with a haircut the week before i went to italy. i went to the same woman i’ve been going to for a year + now. but i went to a different salon. her OWN salon. the doors had opened the day before and while the restorations weren’t 100% complete, her attitude was overjoyed, sheer joyfulness, blissful happiness.

i’m beginning to think she infused a bit of that into the shampoo, and combed it through my hair with the conditioner, tousled in some with the mousse, and spritzed it in with the hairspray because i have gotten more compliments on my hair/appearance (in person, in pictures) than ever before.

i like to think it’s magic because who doesn’t want a spot of magic incorporated into their life?

of course, it could also be a bit of me shining out. i’ve been through some tougher times than i’d like to admit and while i thought i was past the darkness before, it seems i really am now. it’s apparent in my facial expressions. when i smile, i actually mean it. and i’m wearing a smile more often these days. i think that’s what people are seeing. it’s nice to know my hard work is paying off.

though, it never hurts to have a wand in your back pocket or at the very least, a hairdresser who can style your hair to complement your face AND your attitude.

travel

travel-o-city

abby mumford

i’ve found myself in more planes, trains, buses, cabs, and cars in september/october than i have over the course of the entire rest of the year. i suppose this is why my summer was so slow. it was the calm before the frenzy of fall travel. as i sit here, in my apartment, sandwiched between two weekends away, i can’t help but think about the art of traveling.

AIR TRAVEL. this route allows you to go the further the fastest. great for international and cross country travel. however, with all of the security measures at airports, you have to make sure your shoes are easy to slip on/off, that your carry on bag can in fact fit into the overhead compartment, that your jewelry/accessories/coat/sweater are easy to take off so you don’t send that metal detector into a beeping fit, and that all your toiletries are 3 oz or less and fit into one minuscule zip lock bag. your ipod (or cd player and stack of cd’s, if that’s how you roll) is a must to drown out the crying babies OR seat mate who can’t take the hint that you’d rather sleep (or watch tv or pull out your own fingernails) than hear about their aunt linda’s nephew’s twin sister’s daughter who wrote a really awesome book about napkins that should totally be published by the company you work for.

ROAD TRAVEL. this option allows you the most control. you drive the car. you pick the route. you can see what’s going on ahead, behind, and next to you at all times. you can pack as much as you want. in no particular shape or form or container. however, there are other cars (with idiot drivers) in them that you have to contend with. and bathrooms aren’t readily accessible. and radio stations come and go. and traffic. you never know exactly when or where or how long you’ll be stuck there. and those cops sure know how to show up just when you press the accelerator.

RAIL TRAVEL. this option deletes the traffic on the road problem, but it’s about as expensive as a flight, without the quickness factor. it takes about the same time as driving (well, if you drove on roads without other cars or construction). it’s got almost the same (must fit into the overhead compartment) packing issues as the plane, but it does not have the whole security thing. which means, oh yeah, liquids in a container larger than 3 ounces. party! of course, all of this applies to US trains. if you’re in, say, italy, YOU SHOULD TAKE THE TRAIN. the system is practically flawless. the destinations are endless. and, well, you’ve probably already got your tiny suitcase packed from the plane ride over.

BUS TRAVEL. this is by far the most economical. the most expensive ticket i’ve ever purchased was $13. and that one i giggled at because, really, $13. i can totally afford that. (i should have paid more attention to the evil sounding 13. it was just the start of a horrid bus ride home. let’s just say that megabus has the worst customer service ever. both rides (to and from NYC) were beyond ridiculous. i got there in one piece, so yes, that was good, but no, i’ll never take them again. i’ll cough up $4 more to take the bolt bus.) you can pack a bag with no size restrictions because the undercarriage of the bus can hold a lot of luggage. and there are no security measures, so again, party on with your big bottles. (of course, you must keep in mind that you still have to take public transportation to and from the bus, so you’ll have to drag/carry whatever you packed. think of your back! and the uneven brick sidewalks! pack light.) there is that road traffic to contend with, so keep that in mind while planning the trip, especially if you’re going into Manhattan around rush hour. eesh. bad idea.

and now that you have my travel breakdown, let’s hope your (or my) plane, train, car, or bus doesn’t break down on your next trip away from home.

feelings

love (just beginning).

abby mumford

i’m a sucker for a love story. a good one. a cheesy one. a sappy one. a romantic one. a cute one. an old one. a new one. one that’s been a long time coming. it’s probably because i don’t have one of my own.

yet.

i especially like to hear the stories of how people met in case it gives me an idea of something new to try.

oh, you met in college? darn, i’ve already graduated. from undergrad AND grad school.

oh, you met at the laundromat? the only guy i see is the homeless man who offers to carry my laundry in. i’ve just carried it 3.5 blocks, sir, i can manage these last 15 feet. maybe i’ll try the one in your neighborhood?

oh, you met while you were abroad? i was just in italy! i didn’t meet any single men under the age of 40.

oh, you met at the bar? i went bar hopping last night/last weekend/last month. didn’t come across any winners. but did you know the octoberfest beers are out now? yeah, goodbye summer, hello fall.

oh, you met at work? everyone i work with is married. or is old enough to be my father.

oh, you met online? which site? yeah, tried that one. ok, i’ll try it again. maybe could you read my profile before i post?

oh, you met in the produce section of the grocery store? my friends are due back soon, so i’ll have a reason to go to that section of the store again.

oh, you met on the airplane? i have a few flights coming up, surely i’ll get a good seatmate. or at least one that will STOP CALLING ME, SHIRLEY.

but what i really adore are the stories of lasting love. and couples laughing together. and supporting one another. the latest story to melt my heart is here. it’s EXACTLY the type of story i want to cuddle up in bed with. it contains love. humor. sauciness. a couple just starting out. and how they entertained each other when they had nothing to rub together but their imaginations.

so while i continue to search for my love story, tell me yours.

travel

perspective

abby mumford

it can be found through the twist of a camera lens. or the turn of the age dial. or the easy childhood you had. or the difficult time you went through. or if you’re employed. or if you’re a man. or if you’re a teenager. or if you’re lonely. or if you’re in love. or if you ran there. or if you took the first left instead of right.

for whatever reasons got us to this point, it’s given us all a unique perspective. we can experience the same event and come away with different conclusions. we can taste the same meal and simultaneously shudder in delight and disgust. we can smell the same flower and want to sniff again or sneeze and pull back. we can hear the same song and laugh or cry. we can touch the same water and either dive in or run away laughing. we can see the same mountain and be comforted or challenged.

that last one actually happened. kristen saw that mountain in lake como and thought this.

i saw it and felt comforted.

why?

because it was always there. every morning. strong. solid. sturdy. stunning. it was waiting for me to walk out onto the porch so it could make me smile. every afternoon. the houses bordering the base, tempting the mountain, urging it to disagree with the civilization. the trees still grew, filling in the picture, outlining its vast size. the rocks reflected the sunshine making the white spots gleam like a hollywood startlet’s mouth. every night. giving the setting sun a backdrop. providing an audience for the twinkling stars.

i was introduced to that mountain at a time where i felt lost (directionally and emotionally) and confused and homesick. but every morning, noon, and night, there it was. unchanging except for the shadows that danced in the revolving sunlight. i would see that mountain and know i was near home. a temporary home. but one that was safe and modern and new and filled with two girls who opened their vacation and let me slip into their hugs hello.

that mountain shows how steady mother nature is. and when you’re feeling lost, isn’t it just like a mother to send a source of comfort?

feelings

golden rule (of couches)

abby mumford

it started with a bathmat. or rather, a replacement one. roommate said she had reached her limit and was going to buy one of the wooden ones they use in spas. upgrade #1.

it continued with a work trip. to ITALY. upgrade #2.

it was furthered when roommate reached her limit (again) but this time with the couches. we had 3 of them. all 3 were hand-me-downs when we first moved into our apartment 7 years ago. (to be honest, neither one of us expected we’d still be roommates this long, so the hand-me-down couches seemed like the perfect short term solution.) but here we are, still roommates, still with old couches. plus you have to factor in 7 more years of butt sitting and dinners being eaten and beverages being drunk while on them…yeah, ick. we attempted to spruce them up with slip covers, but that didn’t really help. roommate uses the living room more than i do, so it was natural she’d reach her limit before i did. but once she reached it and pointed it out to me, i quickly realized how frumpy that room was. she did some research and ordered 2 brand spanking new couches. and they are lovely. the apartment looks grown-up. upgrade #3.

and then a weird thing happened. E&T went off to visit Japan and needed someone to pick up their CSA farm shares of vegetables and fish during their absence. roommate and i happily agreed. and this past tuesday night, we were inundated with fish and fresh vegetables. upgrade #4. except neither one of us knew what to do. well, to be fair, roommate had more of a clue than me, especially when it came to the fish. i’ve NEVER cooked fish. heck, i’ve only just started eating it. (i rarely ate it growing up. unless it was those frozen fish sticks, which, ick.) long story short — we had a complete dinner of fish and veggies tuesday and then last night, i took the reins and made a baked fish dish with rice. for two nights, roommate and i were able to cook and eat together (while sitting on the floor in the living room so as not to spill on the beautiful new couches!). despite our hectic schedules and the variances in our taste buds, we had our own little family dinners.

eating dinner together as a family is something i treasure because it’s what my family did every single night of my childhood. no tv, no books, no phones, just food and family. sure, when i was a teenager, i wanted nothing to do with these dinners, but the forced regularity of conversation was a lesson that extended beyond the family. (because there are a lot of times here in adulthood when you have to talk to people you don’t necessarily want to.) and frankly, that lesson extended into the family because i got to know the people who sat around me. they’d talk about their days while i secretly tried to hide the fact i wasn’t eating my vegetables.

but what these recent upgrades have shown me is that i am becoming an adult even though i certainly don’t feel like one. when i was little, i thought being an adult included being married and having kids and owning a house. i have none of these things, yet my age says i’ve reached adulthood. the bills and taxes i pay depict adulthood too. but my health and imagination make me feel 10 again. so i guess it’s time to use my mind and start “faking it ’til i make it” to adulthood. or rather, an amended version of adulthood.

i can’t help but think that having a new bathmat, 2 new couches, a kitchen full of fresh food and a person to eat dinner with is a good starting point.