I dream out loud, speak out loud, hoping that someone will hold me accountable for my dreams. This time last year, I told myself I want twelve weddings for the year of 2015, well I got fifteen.
One weekend, I chime into my best friend telling some of her colleagues about what I do for a living. I was humbled by my friend’s expressions and inspired to believe in my own dreams.


P.S. Thank you to my marketing director for the snap. We stood out in the hot Texas sun for this. Thank you!



On Friday afternoon, happy hour was conveniently scheduled around my bedtime, and I found the best parking spot for seventy five cents, so I was already winning. As soon as I walked into Pub Fiction , I had the sales rep to the Metro Rail trying to sell me a lifetime of Metro Fare cards. So wait, you are telling me I just hop on and ride the rail to the bar? I’m sold. Go ahead and charge that bicycle too.
Talks about the rail were among the few, tempurpedic patio cushions, wrinkles, smiling less with my eyes, cinnamon sticks in my drink, water in red solo cups, I heard grilled cheese sandwich at some point, pizza/bread with sauce, and the hope for some mcdonald’s mcgriddles at 2 am. Some dreams do come true.
Cheers to my friends for understanding the meaning of being brown; we talk with our hands, sometimes clap, and laugh distinctively loud.



This past weekend was everything I needed in the past few weeks. No worries about makeup or hairspray. I enjoyed silent moments, giggles, burst out loud laughs, I love yous exchanged from tent to tent, and reflections about our lives.
I sat along the lakefront, listening to the waves collide with the concrete walls, I read a few pages and inhaled the fresh air. For two days, my greatest concern, making it through the day without being hungry. Luckily, my sisters and I share the same great appetite.
To my sisters, who share my life, my struggles, my joy, my courage, and my love. I love y’all.