david

Happiest birthday to the guy who picks up and delivers a 100-person cake for my niece's baptism, re-watches episodes so I can catch up, travels at the same pace, adores donuts as much as I do, and says, "that goes without saying" when I ask if I look cute.

You are forever thoughtful and surprising and sweet. I'm glad you're mine.

tiergartenquelle

In November, David and I went to Tiergartenquelle for our last night in Berlin. It was recommended by a friend as "very German" but with "American-sized portions" (which I still giggle at whenever I remember). For the record, he was right: the portions were enormous (and delicious).

Beyond portion sizes, I loved this place for its charm and warmth. It's located directly underneath the S-Bahn so while you're eating, you can hear and feel the train come and go overhead. I suppose this might be unnerving for some but I found it comforting. I can't explain it. That, along with communal seating, dim lights, and sitting across from one of my favorite people made for a lovely last evening.

I miss Europe.

orvieto

Even apart from its falling leaves, Orvieto was beautiful. We stumbled into a tiny ceramics shop and spoke to the owner who made everything herself. Seeing her brushes and glazes made me miss the wheel so much. At the end of our conversation, she wished us a "buona vita." So sweet.

We went on an underground tour then saw more stray cats than anywhere else in Italy. I was being uncharacteristically picky about where to eat for lunch and only settled when we found a tiny hole in the wall with handwritten notes from visitors everywhere. I had truffle pasta, David had polenta with wild boar, we shared the wine.

There isn't much else, but I think the town was the most charming in its simplicity. It had the narrow alleyways decorated with vines and bathed in sunlight all along buildings were worn throughout the centuries-- everything you'd imagine Italy to be.

the leaves in orvieto

Orvieto is a tiny hill-top town half way between Florence and Rome. It's one of the towns I'd tried to go to twice already, failed, and finally made it with David in tow. I have some photos from the city itself but here are some from a park we happened upon when we missed our bus and decided to walk back to the train station.


Layers and layers of golden-brown leaves in the most picturesque park I ever did see.

notes from the road

We took an overnight train from Florence and woke up in Munich this morning.

Now that I've taken some time off work, it's strange shifting my focus to set out and explore. I've been to Munich before but don't remember it well. We've been setting off in whichever direction seems right and enjoying the things we find along the way.

Photos from a Florence photo booth. My favorite souvenir to date.

italia

I almost can't believe I'm back.

I've been working in Florence for the past couple of days and am so happy, so lucky, so blessed to call this city one of my homes. The best part? Already knowing the streets. Or visiting my favorite gelateria every day for the past three days (whoops). Or speaking (broken) Italian. Or having dinner with my host parents. Or showing David my favorites spots. Or introducing David to my host parents.

Everything is the best part.

portraits from the road

One of myself.

One of my beau.

One of the car.

And one of He-man. (We couldn't stop laughing and dancing.)

seven years

My favorite things about him are the way he offers to drive, that he remembers my favorite everything, and how his fingers untangle my hair. He spends about 3 seconds considering what to wear, he's always willing to try new food but also offers the last bite, and he seems to know every athlete to ever play for the Oakland A's. You don't notice them at first, but he has the sweetest blue eyes and the longest lashes-- it's almost unfair. He's the quietest guy in the room but the silliest with my nieces and just about any dog/cat/animal. I can't remember the last time we said good night without a kiss.

He chooses his words carefully, so you know he always means it. I like that he double-knots his laces, that he once asked me what "emo" meant, and that I can never guess what song he's trying to sing. He's the most genuine, the most comfortable, the most everything. And he doesn't even realize it.

Happy 7 years, love.

(Photo from our high school chemistry class, 2006.)

saturday

Next time, I'm bringing my bike.

date night

We didn't know what was around there-- we just parked and hoped for the best. We took a chance on the first restaurant we saw and decided to share everything. You got a pescetarian bento box, I ordered sushi, and our table was almost too small for all the dishes. They thought the beer you ordered was for both of us, so they brought two glasses. You shared anyway but ended up finishing mine for me.

We finished just in time to walk over to our movie.

suppenküche

The last time we went to Suppenküche, I forgot my camera and felt guilty about it all night. I didn't make the same mistake when we went back for David's birthday. In fact, I might have gone overboard with photos.











This tiny restaurant is always crowded but cozy. Their tables are communal (just like Europe) so it's common to sit next to strangers if your party doesn't fill an entire table on its own. Their Spätzle is to-die for. It's loud with people laughing and drinking boots of beer.

Everything (wonderful) you'd expect from a German restaurant.