We Wore Our Sunglasses At Night – May 2008

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon..

Please don’t be in love with someone else,
Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.”


 Seven years ago I met this pretty cool guy at a house party.

We talked all night. I told him I could spell anything when I was drunk, and he lied to me and told me he liked some country music. I believed him because his voice sounded like a sweet southern song, but I’d later find out that he really hates almost all country music and much prefers techno and dubstep. For reasons too many Jell-O shots won’t allow me to remember, we took our first picture together, sporting sunglasses at night.

I attacked his lips with smooches before he left, and he proceeded to ask me on a date. Days later, he messaged me on MySpace with a quick message: “What’s up, spelling bee?”

The rest is history. But a history that I love to tell and retell.

For so long, the way he treated me felt so brand new. Part of this was because I was only nineteen, and fairly new to the whole dating scene. But more than that, what I had witnessed of serious relationships in my previous eighteen years had left me substantially incredulous for someone so young. Robby was what I had only dreamed a partnership could be, not what I had ever known the reality to look like. From the very beginning, I was taken aback by the complete freedom I felt when I was with him.

In our earliest of days, he once left my friend’s apartment living room in the wee hours of the morning to head off to work. I was barely awake when I heard the door close and then, moments later, open again. He had walked back inside just to give my half-asleep self a quick kiss goodbye.


And that was how it always was with Robby. He looked at me like I had hung the moon, told me he loved me entirely too soon and quite often, gifted me with sweet surprises and constantly gave my hand quick pecks, just because. His happiness was contagious and his complete adoration for me slightly baffling. It seemed too good. I worried that it wouldn’t last.

Yet here we are more than seven Mays later, with years’ worth of love and happiness and our own little Brynlee Mae Boudreaux. Today I woke him up in the wee hours of the morning to tell him that I couldn’t sleep. He was barely awake as he stroked my back and snuggled until I felt relaxed enough to doze off again. I’m still occasionally surprised by his sweet smooches, thoughtful actions and loving words, but I’m so grateful that it’s all that our Miss Mae has ever known. I’m happy to share his hung-the-moon gaze with this sweet baby girl that we made all by ourselves.

Seven years later and our love still feels like freedom. Like the deepest of belly laughter. Like seeing fireflies in your backyard hammock on a star-studded summer night. Like kissing at sunset on the Jackson Street Bridge, or getting lost in Venice in the rain, or renewing wedding vows in a silly little Vegas chapel. Like the grandest of adventures. The kind that you just can’t wait to continue for the rest of your days.

What Granny Gave Me

Last month, my grandma, mom, sister, daughter and I made our way to the little town of Joshua, Texas. This is where Miss Bryn met my great-grandma. Her great-great grandma. Together in one room were FIVE generations of our family. Needless to say, it was a very special day.


Growing up, my Granny Polly and Pa’s house was my favorite place in the world to be. Driving up to their property, after the three hour drive that always seemed more like a lifetime back then, was always a moment for complete and utter celebration. On holidays, the kids would sleep on the floor chit-chatting and giggling until we fell asleep, excited for what the next day would bring. In the summer, I would spend a week at a time with my Granny. We’d fall asleep in her bed, her reading a novel with a scantily clad woman and her beau on the front, me with my Babysitter’s Club or something equally G-rated. In the morning, we’d wake up around 6 am. Granny would make us both coffee, something I was only allowed the indulgence of at her house. She drank (and still drinks) hers black, and I filled (and still fill) mine with copious amounts of cream and sugar. Some days we would get donuts or browse an eccentric bookstore, and on the weekends we’d scope out garage sales. The evening was spent eating dinner at the kitchen table whilst watching the news on a small television, watering the garden and sometimes riding the golf cart around the land. Always we ended the night with more reading.


Everything about my Granny and Pa’s house was pure magic. Thinking back, I can still feel the lingering touches of the wonder that staying with them would bring. The air came through vents on Granny’s floor, and I can remember standing on the vents as the cold air chilled my feet, mesmerized by even this. Glass drawers were placed throughout Granny’s house, full of glass eggs and other small, beautiful things. I was entranced by all of these little baubles. But most magical of all was this–on their land was a large building, filled with the items they acquired from buying out storage units. It may have been a business for them, but for me, it was simply paradise. I would spend hours going through the knick-knacks, the books, the tables and boxes of seemingly endless treasures. Until my parents would start limiting my collection, I would usually go home with as many of these treasures as my heart desired. As Granny and I browsed her jewelry a few weeks back, she explained to me where many of these unique and lovely pieces originally came from. For a brief moment, I was eight-years-old and totally immersed in that feeling of childlike fascination again.


I give a lot of credit to my Granny for my love of coffee, bargain-shoping, trinkets and reading. Most importantly, I know she has played a big role in my insatiable love for life. As a kid, I’d often brag to my friends that my great-grandma jumped on the trampoline with me. On the way back from my Pa’s funeral, Granny rode to her house on the back of a motorcycle. I’ve heard that she dyed her dark brown hair platinum blonde, probably just because she could. She is the embodiment of the word ‘pizazz’. In every moment I can remember spending with her, she’s had a zest for life and a knack for living every moment of it to the fullest. As we were looking through a photo album this past weekend, my grandma noted how adventurous her mom has always been. My mom laughed, “That must be where Christina got it from. I know she didn’t get it from me!”


I feel so fortunate to have passed down to me this joy for the turning of a page, the searching for the smallest of treasures, the first sip of a pumpkin spice latte, the wonderment that comes with trying something new. And I can only hope that I can pass down to my daughter all of the happiness and love for life that my Granny Polly has gifted me.

Secret Life, Greek Food & Creepy Piano Man.

The makings of a perfect day: Friends,Food, Cheesy teenage drama shows, New places, Old memories, and Maybe a little too much to drink.  Ahem.

-Emily and I had our second t.v. marathon/girls day at her apartment last night.  She has me hooked on this show. Don’t judge me. I watch it, I know it’s a giant cheesy unrealistic mess, and I am still obsessed.  Maybe it’s also the blankets and free food and her new puppy that have me loving her place.

I hadn’t had a Capri-Sun in years! I felt like a kid again.

See!? Her puppy is giving me a case of I-need-a-new-dog-now-itis. Then I remember the huge mess left on my floor last night and I remember two is maybe enough.  Em and I aren’t even on season two yet, so I’ll be seeing this little girl grow up, while also watching teenagers have babies and such. Aw.

At five I headed home, ready for some good food. I’ve never had Greek food before, and I’ve been dying to try.  There’s an adorable little place in our apartment complex called Zakia’s, and it’s been long overdue that I try this one in particular. Brought along a few friends and the husband and hoped for the best.  Right off the bat you can tell this place is authentic.  The owner is this beautiful Greek woman with a lovely accent.  Secondly, the food. Oh, the food. I’ve never even had a gyro before and couldn’t even pronounce it for the life of me until one of the boys pointed to the top of the restaurant. There’s actually a sign for dumbasses like me! “Yee-Roh.” Oh. Yeah,I was way off. But I knew it was pretty much the Greek-est of the Greek and went for it despite my lack of pronunciation skills.  Oh my Gosh. This stuff was heavenly. You’ve got your pita bread stuffed with beef, lamb, and all sorts of other yummy vegetables and a delicious mystery sauce. I’ve never had lamb before either, and it’s a hearty looking and tasting meat.  I’m pretty excited about this place now.  Not only can I walk there, it’s delicious, AND the staff is awesome.  The waiter overheard me talking about my blog and he wanted to know more about it.  He has the link now so I’m actually kind of nervous. Not only that, the owner overheard me (or saw me taking so many pictures) and commented that I was very interesting and also started asking about my blog. Jeeze. If my words don’t do this place enough justice, here’s some more pictures.

This is actually probably the best and most fresh salad I’ve ever had and I gobbled it up pretty quickly.  I usually don’t even like salad, so this says something. I think what made it so delicious was the creamy mint sauce. Mint! Mmm. My mouth is starting to water.

This appetizer was probably second place or even close to tying for first. Buttery, flaky melt in your mouth on the outside and inside you have your spinach and… I think feta cheese? Ah, crap. Whatever it was, it was damn good.

That’s my gyro. It came with a yummy seasoned rice too. I had leftovers that I think I’m about to go warm up now.

I was proud of this picture. Matthew refuses to take pictures so I had him do some pretend finger trick game with me,while Tessa snapped a quick one. Hee. What I’ll do to get a picture.

Oh, and the night’s not over yet, girls and boys.

Tessa,Allen, Robby and I headed over to the downtown area to have a ‘couple’ of drinks and have fun with the friends. A couple turned into more than a couple for everyone but Allen, who was our very responsible d.d. I feel the need to let everyone know we had a d.d… Because we definitely needed one. The night consisted of  pianos, Bailey shots, laying in bed, the first and best Nintendo ever made, and a lot of laughs. You need a visualization, don’t you?

The girls. Tessa intimidates me in this picture.

Um, friendship bracelets?

Nikki and I became pretty fast buddies when she was visiting her boyfriend Topher in good ole Texas. Now she’s here for good! Excited.

DONKEY KONG! I was so ecstatic when I saw they had this Nintendo I let out “You have the special box!!!” Jason laughed hysterically and told me I was five years old.

Speaking of Jason. Notice the three couples. And then…


My drunken self found it rather amusing anyway.

So there you have it. Bed-laying,

Piano playing,

And…Time to stop drinking.