NYE Denver ’11


It’s a unique, bittersweet emotion. I am a chronically nostalgic person– ask anyone who knows me. I’m constantly babbling about how “this is the last time we’ll be at this restaurant as college students” or “he’ll never be this small ever again.” Each time I utter a phrase like this, I get a little misty, a little awe-struck that times passes and disappears from our grasp the way that it does.


San Francisco, October ’10

With this strong sense of nostalgia, also comes a strong sense of tradition. I think that tradition keeps memories alive. It allows us to relive old times, imagining ourselves in different chapters and phases our lives.


Senior Week, Denison ’10

This past weekend, Mike and I went down to Columbus for a friend’s “Stock the Bar” pre-wedding party. We spent the day and night talking, drinking, ad swimming with old college friends we hadn’t seen for too long. No matter how much time passes it’s good to see those familiar faces– it’s like everything just goes back to the way it used to be. At least for fleeting moments.

Senior Week at Denison '10

Senior Week at Denison ’10

Time changes everything– people move, break-up, make new friends, get new jobs, and all of these factors shape us and change us. This is what life is about, right? Evolution? Growth? And I’m so happy for that– for that growth and change. But it’s sometimes a hard thing too, because it’s proof that “those days” are gone.


Atlantic City, Senior Beach Week ’10


Denison Graduation ’10

On Sunday, when Mike and I were heading back to Cleveland, we decided to make a little detour to our old college town, Granville. Mike and I went to Denison University— a small liberal arts school in a small town near Columbus. It’s like a place out of a movie or a storybook. Picturesque. Quaint. Noble. Being back on campus filled both of us with a range of emotions. We felt grateful to have called such a beautiful place home for 4 years. We were relieved and heartbroken that we don’t party the way we used to. We were inspired by so many of the shops and buildings remaining the same. We were excited by the multi-million dollar renovation to the athletic center and depressed that this meant we had been gone longer than we thought. We were thankful that this was the place where we met and fell in love. The list of feelings goes on and on, and much of what we felt can’t be articulated.





Favorite coffee shop in town

Favorite coffee shop in town

The hang over cure for every Denison student

The hang over cure for every Denison student

I’m always happy and thankful to be moving forward, but there’s just something so poignant about the past. It will never be again. We will be, sure. But our 5-year-old selves learning to ride a bike, our 12-year-old selves, grasping on to childhood and exploring adolescence, our 16-year -old selves experiencing the freedom of driving, our 20-year-old selves embracing college living, our post-grad selves moving across the country… those times will never exist for us again. At least not in the same way they did when we were 100% in them, living them, and experiencing them.


Cape May, Senior Beach Week ’10

The beautiful thing to remember is that we have many more chapters and eras ahead of us, and some those future stages of our lives will be just as magical as some of those past.


Colorado, ’12

Some people say you have to live in the present. I don’t know if I agree– I think that what makes my life the most full, the most hopeful, and the most exciting, is living in the present, traveling back to my past, and imagining my future. For me, there’s no other way to live than nostalgically.

1st Colorado Hike '10

1st Colorado Hike ’10

Until next time.



The Rally Cap

ClevelandIndiansThis past weekend, Mike and I went to the Indians versus Nationals game with a group of friends.


Courtney and Mark

Courtney and Mark

I have to admit, I was a little bit scared to go– for some inexplicable reason, I have an irrational fear of baseball games. So un-American, right? I mean, I love the idea of going to a baseball game, but for as long as i can remember, I am horrified when the game begins and the bats start crackin.  Each time a batter winds up, my stomach knots up. Each time the bat whacks the ball, I flinch, furrow my brow, and bury my face in my hands. Every time the ball bounces off the bat, I am sure it is headed straight for my face.

After Mike and I had been dating for maybe 3 or 4 months, we went to our first Tribe game together. I was excited, loving the idea of eating peanuts and cracker jacks with my new boyfriend. But holy moly, guys. After only a couple of innings, my nerves couldn’t take it anymore and when a ball was hit into the stands, I LEAPT across 4 strangers in our row and DOVE into the stairway, and curled up in a little ball, covering my head. I think this is when Mike knew he was in love with me ;o). I was MORTIFIED and so embarrassed! The ball hadn’t even come close to our section.

I guess you could say I’ve come a long way since that game 5 years ago. I still tense up and mutter nervous expressions quietly to myself from time to time (oh sheesh…by golly…wow wee…hoooo boy….oh my…whoosh) but this past Friday, I mostly had a great time and was hardly nervous at all (maybe it was the dollar dogs and beer that helped to distract me).


It was a great game filled with drama and excitement. Mike and I were the last of our group to take our seats (I just needed desperately to have an Indians baseball cap) and upon reaching our section, we had a run-in with these 2 girls who were in our bleacher seats and SO mean! We asked kindly if they could just scoot down a bit so we could sit down and these girls rolled their eyes, pursed their lips, and bobbed their heads, telling us that they would absolutely not move over– these were their seats. Umm, no actually you’re in the wrong section, but even so, we don’t really care… could you just scoot down a little bit so we can stop blocking everyone’s view/sitting on the laps of our friends? NO. It was the strangest thing ever! I thought we were all Indians fans, all Clevelanders, and all in this thing together! Boy was I wrong! These young ladies started screaming for the official admission/seating guys. I smiled nicely to both of the girls and said, “I’m happy to talk to that guy about this and sort it out, but is it really necessary for you to be so upset with us about this 2 foot plot of space?” The girls snidely retorted, “Look– theses are OUR seats and we are NOT moving, so you can speak to the man about it if you’ve got a problem!”. Okay, happily. And so the official seating man came and promptly moved those persnickety girls out of our seats and into the next section over– indeed those were not their seats after all.  We quietly, and smugly took our seats while our friend Mark sang “Nahnahnahnah, Nahnahnahnah, hey hey hey, goodbye.” That was the drama.

The excitement came at the bottom of the 9th inning– we were tied with the Nationals the while game, and we were the last ones at bat. One of our bleacher-mates we had met that night told us about the “rally cap”. He said in a close game like this, you had to take your baseball cap, flip it inside out, and put it on backwards, wearing it like that for the rest of the game. We did as we were told, and wouldn’t you know, we won the game. I think we owe it to the rally cap.

Indians baseball

Until next time.

P.S. Captain America is filming in my lovely little neighborhood of Tremont this week! Hoping for a Scarlett Johansson or Chris Evans sighting!


Need More Reasons to Love Cle?


Read this!

Until next time.