The C & B Chronicles: I went home, and found a little Cap.

Water line from Hurricane Katrina. My Pops used to call me "Katrina, Katrina"... I couldn't resist.

Hi friends,

It's been quite a while since I've blogged, and for that... I am truly sorry! I've been enjoying life outside of the internet lately, and as grandma as it sounds... I have become a fan of silence. I drink my coffee in silence, sit on the couch in silence, run in silence, drive in silence... you get the picture. I worked in a coffee shop inside a very crowded mall over the holidays, and I became a lover for all things silent and non-christmasy. Yes, I was a down right scrooge, and I'm only just now becoming a better, kinder individual! J and I spent Christmas in Charleston without our families this year. I cried, ate cajun inspired meals and drank mimosas the whole way through. We were able to go home a few days after Christmas, and Cap, as you once knew her, was officially restored.

I can love again!

It's funny how much I talk about home these days. I'm sure my local friends are sick of my constant gush over New Orleans, Gumbo, Eggs Benedict, my family, boudin, Whole Foods, Trader Joes, King Cake, and did I mention food? I talk about food a lot. I'm always so happy to go home, and I always turn into a little 2 year old (who just found out her mother will not let her eat ice cream for breakfast) whenever I have to leave. It's a really sad, hilarious, sobbing, red nosed, puffy face sight... and honestly, I should film it one day so I can make millions for looking like a total spastic case. Home is one of those places that I know I love, but it's only when I'm there that I realize...

I really effing love this place and all of the crazy, glorious people who live here.

Apparently, 2014 is the year Cap turns into a hormonal woman. At least, that's the only explanation I can conjure up for the flooding of my tear ducts. 2014 has transformed me into a crier. I wish it weren't so, but these days... I can only express happiness, sadness, love, passion, excitement and fear through crying. What is wrong with me?

From the moment I landed in Baton Rouge, the tears flowed down like waterfalls, and they only semi slowed pace two days ago. My friends and family could only laugh at my lame attempt to fight back the tears. Here's why:

I cried when I thought I couldn't spend my sister's birthday with her in New Orleans.
I cried when I found out I could.
I cried when I saw my BFF, Corbin, in the airport.
I cried when I realized how tall he was.
I cried when I noticed Jackson was a tall, smart, freakishly handsome, crazy-cool teenager.
I cried when my Father-in-Law bragged on me.
I cried when my niece cried over not getting to spend the night with me.
I cried when she spent the night with me.
I cried when she read to me.
I cried when I was road tripping with my mom and realized I only had two more days with her.
I cried when I saw my nephew for the first time.
I cried when I left the Graham's and Brown's house.
I cried when Nicole bought me a King Cake.
I cried during a massage.
I cried during an evening run.
And I nearly had a flat out heart attack when I left my grandmother.

....And I'm crying now as I type about crying. BLAH!

I can't describe what leaving home 4 years ago was like, but I'm going to try like hell in these next few sentences...

Leaving was an adventure. It was fun, challenging, exciting, motivating, and scary. I wasn't nervous about leaving, I was only nervous that I may find something outside of Louisiana that would make me not want to go back. And, if I'm being honest, that has already happened (which is why I think I cry so much these days). I love home, and all of the people in it... but if you ask me to make a definite answer to continue living my dreams, or go home - I would probably disappoint you. J and I always talk about going home, but that reality is still 6-7 years away. We both have plans to discover uncharted land, and I love that more. The scary thing is that I can make all of these brave, selfish decisions when I'm stuck in Charleston, WV for a while, but when you bring me home.... I just want to pitch a tent on Highland road, and throw all of those crazy scholarly aspirations to the curbside.

Anyway... this is not my journal, so I will stop boring you with my rambling, mind labyrinth.

NOW...THE GOOD STUFF.

While I was home, I got to spend some quality time with my sister. She constantly reminds me that one can never be too late, overdressed, too smart, or have too much fun.

She makes this whole life thing grand.

She dressed me in her designer wear.
I felt so fetch.

After my New Orleans trip with Leah, I went back to Baton Rouge to smother myself in family, friends, nonacademic reading, and (once again) good food. These pictures should be able to tell a better story...