Santa Barbara

75 degrees, palm trees, and beaches. Santa Barbara is the California of my dreams.

I was looking for a long weekend getaway that was driving distance from the Bay, dog-friendly, and relaxing. Santa Barbara fit the bill in every sense.

It’s about a five-hour drive from San Francisco if you take the 101 and about a seven-hour drive if you take the 1. On our way there, we decided to take the scenic route and amble our way down Highway 1 (aka the Pacific Coast Highway). Though it was a pain sometimes to drive on a single lane road, the views were well worth it. As we wound along the cliffs, we were awed by the ridges to our left and the ocean to our right. The waves crashing against the jagged rocks. The water a deep, rich blue. The horizon stretching out as far as the eye could see. I felt like I was on the edge of the world.

When traveling with our dog, almost everything we do revolves around her. To break up the drive to Santa Barbara, we stopped at Carmel Beach to stretch our legs. I love any excuse to visit Carmel and I think our pup agrees.

About 3 hours from Carmel is Laguna Lake Park in San Luis Obispo. It’s one of the most beautiful dog parks I’ve ever been to, and it has one of the nicest public bathrooms I’ve ever used. A great pit stop before the final stretch to Santa Barbara.

When we arrived in Santa Barbara, we were amazed by how little traffic there was. Despite its vicinity to LA, having an airport, and being a college town, Santa Barbara had a small-town feel. Everything seemed like a quick ten-minute drive away. The vibe was slower, more relaxed. Nobody seemed to be in a hurry.

Given the perpetually pleasant weather, I don’t recall a single restaurant or cafe that didn’t have outdoor, dog-friendly seating. We ate our hearts out all weekend, and I still think about the meals we had at:

• Los Agaves

• Helena Avenue Bakery

• Jane

• Mezza Thyme

• Oliver’s

• Renaud’s

• Scarlett Begonia

When we weren’t eating or sleeping, we were at the beach. While there are several beaches in Santa Barbara and nearby Montecito, we spent most of our time at Arroyo Burro Beach (aka Hendry’s Beach) and East Beach. Arroyo Burro has a designated dog-friendly section. It’s more crowded than East Beach but there’s more to do and see. We spotted surfers paddling out over the waves, a group of kayakers, and even a small pod of dolphins. On the other side of the wharf, we found East Beach to be much quieter and were able to let our dog off-leash without any issues.

Santa Barbara provided the type of relaxation that gave me Sunday Scaries when our time there came to an end. It’s the ultimate California coastal town for a couple with a lively pupperino. I think she’ll be dreaming of our trip for years to come.

“And in this perfect weather, we’ll find our place together”

Just Imagine

Imagine it’s 2️⃣0️⃣2️⃣9️⃣ We’ve cleaned up the plastic in the ocean, the toxins in the air. We’ve planted more trees, wildlife is protected and thriving. 

We aren’t separate from nature; when we suffer, nature suffers. Our well-being is the well-being of the natural world. We ought to make time to connect with it. If we take care of nature, we take care of the world.

Happy new year, happy new decade. We can do this 💚

Now Entering 2020

I love this quiet time between Christmas and New Year’s. Work pauses for two weeks. I stay up late watching all the Harry Potter movies and sleep in the next morning. Everything moves at a slower pace. I forget what day of the week it is - it’s glorious.

I also get a chance to reflect and set intentions for the new year and this year, I get to reflect and set intentions for the new decade. What a decade it’s been. Ten years ago, I was about to graduate college and decide what I wanted my first job to be. I was 21, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and so badly wanted to be with Steve. That meant moving back to Illinois, and I worked hard to find a job there. So set the course for the next decade. I moved from public relations to marketing, from marketing into tech. My relationship with Steve strengthened, not without its ups and downs, of course. Over time, we learned to better communicate, to really listen and acknowledge each other. 2010 to 2020 came with momentous occasions (buying a home, getting married, introducing a puppy into our family, going on epic vacations, achieving dream jobs). The decade also came with heartbreaking lows (losing grandmothers, making a long distance relationship work, watching our loved ones grow old). Sometimes, I get bogged down by the negatives. But as I look back, I realize that the positives have outweighed the negatives.

When it comes to New Year’s resolutions, I usually set intentions each year to eat healthy, workout and meditate every day, lose weight, get promoted. The typical, societal goals most people want. I’ve learned that a strict diet makes me binge more later, that going on a hike is more uplifting than lifting weights, that getting promoted is a temporary happiness. I want to focus less on things and numbers and more on intention and mindset.

As I enter the new decade, I want to:

• Be kinder in the way I speak to myself.

• Let go of perfection and focus on intention.

• Make plans but be okay if they sometimes break.

• Be open to originality.

• Be a good mother.

• Leave room for magic.

In many ways, I’m terrified of the next ten years. In the next decade, I’ll turn 40 (which feels very far away right now). Deep down, I’m dreading wrinkles and grays, lumps, bumps, and becoming plump. I’m anxious about growing a family, figuring out where to do it, and being a patient parent. I’m worried about losses and heartbreaks and how I’ll deal with them. I’m scared of climate change, pollution, and the state of the world.

Breathe. Just breathe. Take it day by day.

Everything will be absolutely fine.

All I Need Is Less

I’ve never given up something for a lengthy period of time before. A coworker gave up ice cream for a year. A friend gave up meat for Lent. I admired their willpower and wanted to do a similar pledge. I liked the idea of giving up something that would benefit the earth. On my 30th birthday, I decided not to purchase any new clothing for the entire year. The agreement included coats, shoes, socks, and accessories - neither brand new or secondhand.

For the most part, it wasn’t difficult to abstain from clothes shopping. In fact, I found it liberating. No more mindless hours online shopping. No more buying things that I might wear once and that would no doubt clutter my closet. This freedom from scrolling meant more time listening to podcasts, reading books, and not thinking about shopping.

Of course, there were a couple notable moments when my commitment almost wavered. Sometimes, I would simply forget that I was doing the challenge and found myself reaching for a new shirt that caught my eye. The other time was when Reformation (one of my favorite brands) had its annual sale. I’ll admit that the desire to purchase was great. I even let myself browse through the website, only to realize a few minutes later that I didn’t really need anything new. To help eliminate as much temptation as possible, I unsubscribed from all promotional emails from brands and stores and I unfollowed most Instagram handles related to fashion and beauty, especially the ones constantly promoting #ads.

After my year of shopping abstinence, I’ve learned that:

1. Retail “therapy” isn’t actually therapy. From a young age, I was taught to measure my self-worth by the things I had. For years, I convinced myself that retail therapy made me happy and that more is better when in fact these notions distracted me from deep issues I had about insecurity and belonging.

2. My desire to want things won’t go away but I can be smarter about it. I think it’s human nature to want to possess things. This year has taught me that the things I want don’t need to be brand new, the most expensive, or right away. I can consume wisely with secondhand, local, and plastic-free items.

3. The most sustainable garment is the one already in my wardrobe. I’m forced to be more creative with the clothes I have and find ways to rewear. For me, old is the new new. 

During this challenge, I’ve been more attuned to studies on fast fashion and the detrimental impact it has on our environment. Stats like these make me want to continue my challenge so that it becomes part of my lifestyle. For sure compromises can be made - I can commit to avoiding polyester or acrylic purchases or to only purchasing secondhand denim.

• The fashion industry is designed to make you feel “out of trend” after one week. Once upon a time, there were two fashion seasons: Spring/Summer and Fall/Winter. Fast forward to 2014 and the fashion industry is churning out 52 “micro-seasons” per year. With new trends coming out every week, the goal of fast fashion is for consumers to buy as many garments as possible, as quickly as possible. (Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion)

• Fast fashion garments, which we wear less than five times a year and keep for 35 days, produce over 400% more carbon emissions per item per year than garments worn 50 times and kept for a full year. (Forbes)

• Manufacturing a single pair of jeans requires toxic chemicals, dyes that decompose slowly, and 800 gallons of water. (Popular Science)

• Nearly 70 million barrels of oil are used each year to make the world’s polyester fiber, which is now the most commonly used fiber in our clothing. But it takes more than 200 years to decompose. (Forbes)

• Fashion’s consumption of resources - especially water and oil - is projected to double by 2030. (Common Objective)

Just remember: We have power in what we buy, but we have just as much power in what we don’t.

“I used to think the top global environmental problems were biodiversity loss, ecosystem collapse, and climate change. I thought with 30 years of good science we could address these problems, but I was wrong. The top environmental problems are selfishness, greed, and apathy - and to deal with these we need a spiritual and cultural transformation.”

— Gus Speth

Home Sweet Chicago

For a long time I felt like I didn’t belong in Chicago. I didn’t go to a Big Ten school. I didn’t enjoy spending the day drinking beer and watching sports. The Chicago hot dogs, pizza, and Italian beefs made me overweight and bloated. Even when I started to love the city, I didn’t want to admit it. I was in denial that my husband’s favorite city in the universe was also mine.

When I lived in Chicago, I craved forests and mountains and the ocean. I craved diversity and new experiences. For the past two years, our move to California gave me what I asked. From where we lived in Berkeley, I was amazed that we were a 15 minute drive from beautiful hikes in the Redwoods. I loved all the different choices in delicious Asian food. I loved that we could take day trips to the beach and to wine country. For a time, I was happy to escape our old lives in Illinois.

What I didn’t love about living in the Bay Area were the high living costs and long commutes. It took us both over an hour to get to work, and it felt like most of our paychecks were going towards rent. I missed all the space we could afford in Chicago and how convenient it was to move about the city.

But the biggest driver of moving back to Chicago was having a baby. The minute I found out I was pregnant, Chicago tugged at my heartstrings. It’s time to go home and nest.