nat's edit

In retrospect | March


As I write this, I have a countdown clock ticking down to my vacation. I’m heading to Barcelona and Dublin in just over 20 days. I only have a take-home exam left, before I get to sit and anxiously await confirmation of my graduation. 2017 feels like the start of great things, though I’m technically just on the precipice of those things.

Read on for a wee reflection on the month of March.

Visual | Nettle’s Tale! It’s a local, body-positive swimwear company. They design styles that are flattering for all shapes and sizes. The suits are high-quality, and the owners make a point of featuring beautiful, real ladies. They recently opened up a store a couple blocks from my work. I couldn’t resist slipping down on my lunch break to pick up a gorgeous bikini for Barcelona: a bright red number that I can’t wait to whip out on the beach. Find your favourite new swimsuit.

Audible | I’ve been doing kickboxing and Muay Thai with my good pal for almost three months now. We spend our Friday nights and Saturday mornings (and a few weekdays in between) punching and kicking together. It is my favourite. As I write this, slumped on my couch, I have a purple and blue bruise slowly blooming on my thigh. The classes are hard, but the instructors are fantastic and it’s thoroughly invigorating.

Anyways, one of my favourite songs to jam out to while we jab-cross-hook is “Chill Bill” by Rob $tone. Hot damn, that’s a good beat. Give’r a listen:

Edible | My grandfather passed away at the end of February. It was difficult grappling with the loss of someone who means so much. Still, seeing my massive family — so many aunts, uncles, and cousins, all of whom carry in them those same nuggets that made my grandfather so special — was wonderful. I am so appreciative of those amazing individuals in my life.

But back to the food: my grandpa was known for loving fried eggs on top of his pancakes. I gave this seemingly odd combo a go, the day of his funeral. Turns out, my grandpa had exceedingly good taste. (Little surprise, given what a big fan he was of pancakes.) It’s just eggs on pancakes, but it makes me feel closer to him and his legacy. If I remember stories about him, food that he liked, the hugs he gave, and the way he would sit and read the newspaper… maybe I can keep him and his spirit a part of me.


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