denim and diners

It doesn’t require an exceptional capacity of intellect to know that the popularity of denim is unlikely to wane. Still, I refuse to spend more than $20 on a pair of jeans. Maybe I find them unimaginative. Maybe it pains me to recall the amount I invested in the gorgeous denim collecting dust in my closet that, despite my wishful prayers and determination, refuses to hug my hips the way they once did. Maybe it’s just because they limit my range of motion and sweet dance moves… I don’t know. But this weekend, I joined the likes of Levi Strauss for a night with the girls.
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We piled in the oven-like Civic for a heavily detoured cruise to Niagara. Gone are the days when all a girls night required was a last-minute phone call. We have found ourselves scattered over the map, but I’m not willing to allow that to distance us. And not just because I’ve permanently marked my skin with a symbol of our friendship. Through the peaks and valleys of the last year and a half, the darkness and isolation that nearly swallowed me whole, I’ve come out on the other side with friends and family by my side.

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Not a day goes by that I don’t count those blessings. My family. My friends. The sun warming my skin. The strength in my muscles. My ability to reason and feel…

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The unapologetic decadence of chocolate chip pancakes.

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Its those thoughts and acknowledgements that just add such value to my life. And that’s what makes it easier to challenge myself everyday. I cling to that when it gets loud in my head and it feels impossible to do the work, take the risks and stay on track. I’m a lucky girl.

Did you spend time with friends this weekend?

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