A Few Photos

Just a few photos I managed to take today before my camera died.  Spring weather and all the beautiful flowers it brings with it makes carrying my camera with me so much easier…

I’m Kiersten, and this is My Addiction

Hi, I’m Kiersten, and I’m a Netflix-aholic.  

Phew, does it feel good to get that off my chest.  I was never a big TV watcher as a kid and in high-school.  I would watch Friends and Seinfeld with my parents at night, maybe an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond just because that’s what my dad loved watching, but I didn’t actively seek out new shows to watch.  That was before Netflix though, and now…well, let’s just say I’ve never looked back.  

So in the hope that I’m not alone in this addiction to several consecutive episodes of Pretty Little Liars, today I have a list for you: My Top 5 Netflix Shows/Movies

Pretty Little Liars

Yes, I know I’m sort of cheating because I already mentioned Pretty Little Liars once in this post, but obsessed probably doesn’t begin to describe my feelings about this show.  I avoided it for a long time, and now that I’m watching it I’m just honestly not sure why.  It has everything, guys! Drama, comedy (albeit, some pretty dark comedy), romance, mystery… What’s not to love?

Gossip Girl

Okay, okay.  This is definitely my guilty pleasure show, because I know there’s not exactly a whole lot of depth to it.  Basically, it’s a soap opera for my generation.  But how can I turn down all that romance and drama?  What can I say, I just like to watch the mighty fall (and then get back up, because let’s be real.  No mistake is too expensive for the Bass family to fix).


Doctor Who

Okay, here’s the part where I admit that I’m a little bit of a nerd and you all get sort of judgey.  But I am in love with this show, so I don’t really mind.  I don’t think I can really articulate why I was able to get through five seasons in four months, but it happened.  And I should be more embarrassed than I am.  I love getting to see where they’ll end up in each episode, and I think the companions might be my favorite part.  I mean…who wouldn’t adore Billie Piper and Freema Agyeman (and okay, David Tennant isn’t so bad either)?  And there are some pretty awesome life-lessons tied up in each episode, so I say it’s a win win.

I’ll admit that the writing is getting a little iffy with the last season, but the first six seasons (of the reboot) are definitely worth watching! Any show that’s been around for 50 years has to be pretty great.



While I’m on BBC shows, I have to mention this one.  There are only a few seasons, and each season only has three episodes (more like mini movies than anything, really), but I am in love.  Maybe that should have been obvious from my cat’s name, but I love anything having to do with Sherlock Holmes – the books, the movies, the various TV shows…  And this is no exception.  Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman are awesome to watch together, and it’s such a fun adaptation.  Plus, I love anything with a little mystery and action, so this is right up my alley!



This one just became available on Netflix, and you better believe that as soon as I got the e-mail about it, I was adding it to my queue faster than you can say “everybody lies” three times fast.  I loved this show in high-school, but I never watched a whole lot of TV so I haven’t seen much of it.  I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally catch up and SEE THE FINALE!


Well, my Thai delivery is here, and I’m off to watch some Netflix while chowing down on beef drunken noodle.  But before I go, what’s on your Netflix must-watch list?

The Destiny You Met at Closing Time

The man you meet in a bar at closing time, your friend pulling you towards the door while he tells you how beautiful your smile is, is not your destiny.  No matter the almost-relationship that ended just hours earlier, or the fact that his hair is red and his eyes are making you pull your friend back towards the still-open-for-just-a-few-more-minutes bar.

The beauty you are seeing in one another’s faces is a reflection off of yourself, off of the beauty of this night, and the cool air outside, and your friend’s hand in yours pulling you back to a warm bed and birthday cake. You are caught up in a moment, in a feeling that you think you’ve been searching for all your life.  And there are 13 minutes until closing time.  Thirteen beautiful minutes until you have to stop laughing at jokes you probably wouldn’t understand in the morning and follow your laughing friends back to their house, too-high heels in hand because you just can’t walk on the cobblestone with them.  It is physically impossible at 2 in the morning, the late-April breeze in your hair and a warmth in your whole body that you don’t remember having felt in a while, to continue walking on the balls of your feet as you have been for the last five hours.

In that moment, with his hand reaching for yours and a smile that won’t fall off your face until morning, he may seem like your destiny.  You will see the life the two of you could have had flash before your eyes, and you will imagine that you’ve met your future in a college bar, the bartenders yelling for last-call in the background.

But he is not.  He is just a man in the bar, one who you likely wouldn’t remember if you saw him the next day and whose path you will probably not cross again.  He is a beautiful moment, a memory of the night you tasted life and love and freedom for the first time in what seems like forever.

The Words I Adore

Erin was talking about her favorite quote today at Two Thirds Hazel, and it made me think of the quotes that I carry with me.

Both of these quotes hold so much meaning for me – the first, because I wholeheartedly believe that I am fierce, and that is something about me that I am very proud of; and the second, because it is a quote I need to learn to internalize.

Over the years since I first heard these quotes, they have become such important parts of who I am, and who I want to be.  I write them out on my notebooks and in my class notes, I google images of them, I imagine the font and the placement of the tattoos I will eventually get.

Are there any quotes or words that mean the world to you?  

My Corner of the World

It’s been so long since I’ve held my camera, that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be behind the lens.  It is the most exhilarating feeling to have that control over something.

spring flowers
pink flowers in spring
pink flowers in spring (macro)

The world is so beautiful, and I love getting to capture some of it.

On Wednesdays We Eat Breakfast

With graduation coming up faster than a freight train that I don’t know how to get away from, my friends and I have started a new tradition: Breakfast Club (yea…we mix our movies up sometimes). Every Wednesday morning we make our way to the local diner and spend an hour or two eating the most delicious pancakes and french toast on the menu while we talk about everything – school, our futures, freshman year, work…

We’ve only been getting together for about a month or so now, but it already feels like a tradition that I’m going to miss like crazy after we graduate next month and some of us leave this town.  I think that’s probably because even though the diner and Wednesday mornings are new, we’ve been doing this since freshman year when we would wake up earlier than we would have otherwise liked to on Sunday to get breakfast at the school’s dining hall.

Talking to these women about everything is a tradition in itself, with or without breakfast.  One that I’m going to miss too much come May.  I think that means it’s time to start talking about Dinner Club…

pumpkin bread french toast

What are some traditions you and your friends have?

April Showers: 4 Ideas For a Rainy Day

rainy day ideas

I think we can all agree that rainy days are not on our list of favorite things, particularly not after a weekend as beautiful as the one we just had.  That doesn’t mean they don’t have their perks though, and as I’m laying here listening to the sky fall outside, cuddled up with my kitten and thinking about the Thai food getting delivered to my house, I’m thinking I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Just in case you’re still feeling pretty ba-humbug about the weather though, I’ve got a list of all the reasons why you should be happy when you see rain clouds outside your window.

Rainy Day in Ireland


Rainy days make for the perfect excuse to binge watch five too many episodes of Pretty Little Liars. And when you’ve finished the three seasons available on there like I have, you’ve got a whole list of other potential shows to watch.  Does anybody have any suggestions for shows I should add to my list?

Sleeping In

Of course I had class at 9:30 this morning, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t dreaming of my nice warm bed back at home. And as soon as that class let out, you better believe I was right back in my PJs and lying in bed.


Rain is the perfect excuse not to make anything at home, and an even better excuse to eat something which might not be construed as entirely healthy.  That’s where some delicious Thai take-out comes in.  Anyone else totally in love with drunken noodles and beef, because this girl has eaten more of it than she cares to admit in the past month.

Raindrops on Flowers

Bubble Bath

If you do have to venture outside, when you come back in you’re cold and dripping.  I don’t know about you, but for me – that makes the perfect excuse for a hot bubble bath.

And if you’re still singing to the tune of “rain, rain go away” after that, well just remember that “April showers bring May flowers,” and warmer days are ahead.

Thoughts on Growing Up and What I Want to Be

In about a month, I will be walking across a stage to get my college diploma.  It’s a day I’ve always known was coming – there was never a moment when I doubted that I would go to college and graduate – but somehow I’ve never actually been able to imagine it happening.  I can’t picture myself as anything but a student and a month from today I’ll be a college graduate.  A “real person.”

It’s absolutely terrifying and for the last several months I have done nothing but worry about it. About whether I’ll be able to find a job (here’s a hint: I haven’t. There simply aren’t any.  I should not have doubted all the adults who spent the last eight years telling me just that, but for some reason I thought they were exaggerating.  Future graduates: they were not.), a place to live, whether I chose the right major.  And frankly, my biggest concern even without my ever realizing it has been whether I’ll be able to find my place in this world.  It’s scary out there, and the thought of having a “real” job, one where I get paid on salary, not the money that strangers are kind enough to leave on the table, is a whole new reality that I don’t know if I’m ready to face.

For the time being, there are a hundred careers out there that I can imagine myself enjoying, and I’m just not sure if the one I’ve been planning on for the last four years is it.  Yesterday, Alice wrote a lovely post about all the things she used to want to be when she grew up, and all the things she wants to be now.  I think for today, I am going to take a page out of her book and do the same.

When I Grow Up

When I Was Little

Van Gogh

As a little girl, I would sit in my grandmother’s living room watching the news and drawing pictures for hours.  I spent years believing that I could be an artist one day.  I even had my parents enroll me in a drawing class…which is precisely when I realized that starving artist was not in my future, as I was an entirely incompetent artist.


It wasn’t so much a love for animals as it was a love for my cat.  I think that at six-years-old, I believed that being a vet would allow me to spend entire days playing with cats.  And let’s be real, that’s still my dream job.


Every year, my school held a career day where local professionals in all different fields would come in and talk to students about what they do on a daily basis.  Every time career day came around, I’d write “lawyer” in the little number one space where I was supposed to write my first choice (of course, I usually got placed in religious studies instead, much to my chagrin).  At some point, I don’t know when, I simply stopped dreaming of one day becoming a lawyer.  I think I realized that I was not the type of person who becomes a lawyer.


When I wasn’t at my grandmother’s house drawing a thousand pictures of sunsets, I was writing best-selling novels that never made it past the first page.  I remember starting a novel about a man who had been falsely accused of a murder his friend had committed.  How my six-year-old brain concocted that one is beyond me.  Most likely, I was listening to the murder-mystery show my grandmother loved to watch and heard a similar story.

Even though I don’t have fantasies about becoming a New York Times Best-Selling Author anymore, writing is one of the few things I brought from my childhood until now.  I love to write, and managed to find a way to do it that allows me not to make it past the first page.

Now That I’m “All Grown Up”

Professional Blogger

Given my level of commitment (or lack there-of), I realize that this will not happen.  But I do have the occasional (read: almost daily) daydream of being able to make money off of this here little blog.


This one’s a bit iffy.  I have a minor in this subject and spent last semester working at the local paper writing articles.  I still freelance for them and I do enjoy it, but I’m just not sure if it’s something I want to spend 40 hours a week doing for the rest of my life…  Maybe this is just my ridiculous notion that real people can manage to find a job they absolutely love, and that doesn’t actually feel like work.


This just feels perfect for me – the grown-up that used to be a six-year-old dreaming of solving crime from the court room.  I’ve always wanted to work in an office, and this seems like the perfect middle-ground since I know lawyer is not in my future.

I recently (as recently as this week) enrolled in a paralegal certificate program that I can complete online in seven months.

So what do you want to be when you grow up?

The Ocean Inside of Us

the ocean inside of us

There is silence in all of us, in the space between the beats our hearts make, pumping blood throughout our bodies.  It is in the oxygen we breathe in, and in the carbon dioxide we release back into the world, our give and take with the earth all around us.

There is the silence we enforce, in 11th grade classrooms where students are taking the test they have been told can make or break their future, and in churches where we are told that God can only visit if we are quiet and listen for him to arrive.

It is in the convents where Monks have vowed never to speak again, the greatest gift they can think to give to their God, and in the voices of parents who realize that all the love in the world cannot reach their children’s hearts when they need it most.

There is the silence we wish we knew how to break, in the words we do not know how to say as much as we wish we had the courage to scream them for everyone to hear, and in the “I love you’s” we wish we could have said just one more time.  It is in the voices and hearts of 15-year-old girls who have just realized they are in love with their best friend, a sin in the eyes of their parents, even though fall in love while being wholly yourself is the greatest accomplishment of all.

There is the silence we feel while standing over an open grave, our hearts seemingly covered in the same dirt we are tossing onto the coffin that houses our loved ones, and there is silence when we are losing someone important to us not to death, but to our own stubborn mistakes.

It is in every kiss and in the moments we fall in love, and it is there again when our hearts break and we trade kisses for tears.

In September 2001, the whole world grew silent and held their breath while they waited for America to catch hers; and in May 2011 the world grew silent again when people all over America finally found their voices in the words their President addressed the world with, in the bittersweet victory they had been waiting 10 years for.  In the Vietnam War, John McCain and a fellow prisoner of war were punished for the silence they broke between them, trading taps on the wall that separated them from one another.

Silence can serve as the proof we didn’t really want, or as the doubt thrown upon a piece of history we don’t fully understand.  Historians use silence to suggest that something does not have enough historical proof, and parents use it to convey disappointment.  Prison guards use silence to break the souls of a convicted felon, and soldiers use it to break the faith of an enemy they have taken prisoner.

In some families, the silence is unbearable, a waylay between one conversation and the next; in others, it is a way of life, a family heirloom passed from one generation to the next.

There is silence in all of us.  In the same way that water makes up over 50 percent of our bodies, an ocean inside of us all, silence makes up 25 percent of our lives, a cavern of the words we never spoke.