a place called Atalaya

One of the places Beth took me two weekends ago was a lovely, historic beach home named Atalaya (Spanish for watchtower). Built by a businessman for his sculptor wife, it sits feet from the beach, a refuge for Archer and Anna Huntington. The perfect introverts’ sanctuary since it has no guest quarters. On purpose. I so get these people.


Ok, so from the outside, it doesn’t look all that incredible. I mean, the teal is cool, but just wait until we get inside… (more…)


When I was only 8 years old, I experienced something incredible. I was in my first play. (Not counting the random skits put on to entertain family.)

Over the course of two summer weeks, I had lessons in dance, drama, and voice at a local civic center, all culminating in a mostly-kids production of The Hobbit.

Not gonna lie, I kinda rocked the goblin look, don’t you think?

The Hobbit blog

(Gotta love the orange circles around my eyes. Note to self: add that to your makeup routine. Great way to draw attention to your eyes.) (more…)

Birthday corpses!

“And then you’ll go around a tree in the road,” she added.

Surely my Bluetooth was breaking up. A tree in the road. Sure. It was kinda funny, actually.

“I’m sorry . . . what was that?” I queried, wondering what Beth actually¬†said.

“There’s this tree in the road. It narrows to one lane . . .” (more…)