Last Week #15 | Whiplash (And Not the Fun Kind With J.K. Simmons)

 This week was another difficult one. I felt extremely hopeless, helpless, and desperately sad. And the only thing worse than feeling that way is feeling that way and not knowing how to describe it, or tell loved ones about it. I was crippled by it. Sure, I got out of bed. Sure, I still went to work and did things here and there, but my heart wasn’t completely in it. And people noticed. I didn’t seem like myself, they said. I seemed defeated. I was unproductive, and unmotivated to change. But that wasn’t really necessary, because as it turns out the only solution was to wait it out. Getting through the week, as much as I hate the notion of that, was all I could do. 

Something that Eli said to me a lot this week was, "Things are getting done. Progress is being made. Steps are being taken to get things back on track." But for some reason (well, not some reason...I know the reason. It's because I'm me) I couldn't accept that. "Little steps aren't big enough for me," I said. "I'm a do-it-all-in-one-day kind of girl. I get half done in the morning and the other half done at night." But in the end, he was right. In the middle of the week, those little bits of progress, those picked up and dropped strings of hope didn't feel like enough. They felt half finished, half baked, and entirely infuriating. But now, sitting here on Monday, I'm starting to see how the strings are beginning to weave themselves back together again. It's not a pretty weaving by any means, but at least it's something.

After the switch, however, comes a different issue. How do you go from being so sad to being happy, and hopeful? Like…after these fourteen days of purgatory, I basically have no idea how to be happy again. Things are on the mend, but I don’t know how to adjust to it. After so long of being so sad, I can’t just switch on a dime. I don't have the answer to this problem right now, but rest assured that I am actively pursuing it. Trying everything in every "self care" article I read-- from putting a fresh vase of flowers in my room, to doing yoga, to watching good movies about a guy who gets trapped on Mars but somehow still remains hopeful, and allowing myself to be a ridiculous child again and play Pokemon Go (I hate myself for this). 

Nevertheless, I am, understandably so, feeling a little whiplash from things changing so fast. (And not the fun kind of whiplash with J.K. Simmons where you leave the movie feeling inspired to become a drummer.) Today I have an interview for a new, but not so different, job. Tomorrow, who knows. For the first time in my life I have no idea where I will be living or working three months from now. And that thought is absolutely paralyzing to me. I'm the kind of person who is so terrified of change that I will purposely not put myself in the way of new opportunities and possibilities because I'm afraid they will end badly. I'll be terrible at it, I won't be able to handle it, it will destroy everything. These are all excuses I've made over the years. But you know what, as much as I am terrified, I still always do it. I always sit in that terror and fear and anxiety, drown myself in it, and then go do it anyway. Because (and I'm notorious for this) I don't really listen to what others say to me. "Don't get that haircut." Pssh, did it anyway. "Don't wear that outfit." HA. For better or for worse, I haven't listened to that since the start. "Don't become a liberal arts major, do something practical with your life!" Yeah, I ignored the hell out of that one. So the question I need to ask myself is this-- why, if you don't listen to anyone else who questions your actions, do you listen to the little a**hole in your head spewing self-doubt? How is she any different from the person who criticized you for not going to college at the beginning? Answer- she's not. So ignore her. Drown her out with Leslie Knope complimenting you like you're the world's greatest human woman (because you are) and get over her. 

 -Fran

Last Week #14 | Growing Pains

 Last week, as you may know from my mini blog post on Saturday, was rough. Before the weekend was over I drafted this really idiotic blog post in which I avoided the hard stuff and literally at one point said, "It's too much to talk about, so once again I'm going to skirt around the issue." I talked about how change is hard and scary but in the end I make the right choices for me and I need to trust myself more. And that's nice and all, but it's bullshit. I decided a few weeks back that I wasn't going to do that on this blog anymore. And the more I looked at that draft, the more I felt like it was a cop out, and even though writing this realer one is hard, it's more worth it. Because to tell you the truth, I'm uncomfortable and I'm vulnerable and I'm sad and I don't want to explore that sadness. (Who does?!) 

But if I don't, what does that say about me? Furthermore, if I don't explore it, will I regret it? Will I have missed something? An opportunity of some sort? A few weeks ago my mentor and I discussed the idea of dwelling a little more, of lingering in the moments as they happen even if they are difficult or vulnerable or awkward. Although that conversation was in reference to my weekly videos, it applies to this as well, so that’s what I’m going to do here. 

On Monday a very wise three year old said something that didn't quite hit me until this morning, when I was editing my weekly vlog. He said, "we have to have a house." This was the final statement in a very silly conversation we had, which went a little something like this:

Silas: "What if we smushed the house into jelly?!"

Eli: “Oh no! If we smushed it into jelly?!”

Silas: “Yeah! Then we could play in it!”

Eli: "Well then we wouldn't have a house anymore. Where would you sleep?"

Silas: "...in the JELLY!" 

Eli: “I guess that’s true you’d have to…cause that was your house, huh?…You'd get sick of the jelly."

And that, a seven sentence exchange between a 19 year old and a 3 year old, is the best way I have to describe my current situation without getting into all of the gory details. I, for lack of a better term, smushed my house into jelly. And now I'm sleeping in it. And I'm sick of it. 

Right now, I’m trying to navigate the vague and blurry differences between house and home. I guess I have a house, but that house is not my home. I was going to say I don't have a home, but that's not true. I have a home with every person who loves me, who looks out for me, even if they aren't necessarily part of my nuclear family. My house has always been a safe space for me. So much so that I have been afraid I'll never leave. But now, I guess that's not so much of an issue. I do want to leave, because every night I returned I felt something I've never felt before upon returning to my own "home": anxiety.

This week I spent my time at a million different places that aren't my house, but could be called home. Coffee shops, Eli's house, Kelsey's house, gardens and parks and restaurants and family camps. So many different places felt like home, but not all of them were easy to get in and out of. An island in the middle of a lake in the Adirondacks, for example, was no picnic. We had to kayak out there, pull our kayaks in, and climb up, dirtying our feet along the way. We had to scale the only rocks available, sharp jagged ones that I cut my knees on. That’s what young adulthood feels like to me right now. Skinned and bruised knees, difficulty at every sharp turn. I don’t know if that’s just something everyone goes through, if everyone needs to feel this pain in order to be motivated to leave home, or if it's just a particular brand of hell reserved especially for me. 

I usually like to end these posts on a positive note, with a line that makes everyone else feel okay about my not being okay. But that wouldn’t be very truthful of me today. I’m not feeling all that positive. I’m feeling the sharp jagged edges of a home outgrown digging into my skin. I’m feeling the growing pains, and I’m feeling the grief that goes along with it. But I’m grateful for the not-so-nuclear family I have around me, and the fact that they won’t let me give up. 

-Fran

S I X M O N T H S

 In the last six months...

People moved away. People started a business. People quit their jobs. Two people started a relationship...and not only kept it going, but kept it growing. 

I know in relationship terms six months is barely anything. But for someone who has never been in one before (make that two someone's), it's everything. It can be summed up in the words he said to me on Monday: "Cause we've been dating for six months, and that's a big deal. And I don't want every six months to be a big deal, but years and years."

The fact is I've loved every second we've been together. Even the hard ones where one or both of us were in pain and we had to coax it out from where it was hiding and festering and see it, feel it, and even though it hurt, try to heal it. 

This has been a happy, painful, joyful, healing six months. So much has happened. And while I know I could do it all without him by my side, (I'm an independent woman after all: I lived 19 years without him, and I know I'm capable of more) I don't want to. We're right for each other. I can't wait for the coming moments, but I love the ones we're in. 

Yesterday we spent the day in Rochester, where it kind of all began for us six months ago. We went to three coffee shops in a row, and even though I don't drink coffee, I loved it. I love the coffee shop atmosphere, (as well as really good waffles and next-level tea) and I loved exploring new places with a person I love. Then we hit up this little crystal shop, where I went a little crazy but at the same time maybe I didn't go crazy enough. Last, but certainly not least, was Lush. I bought gifts for my sister for her birthday and "Treat Yo Self" gifts for me, which explains why the number on the receipt was so high. 

I finished the day by doing something that scared the life out of every cell in my body. I was a guest on a local YouTube show, The Life of Reilley, promoting OVERDUE. 

At the end of it, when I was feeling the adrenaline drain from my body and starting to slump over from exhaustion, I recalled what our dear friend Lottie told us to do as she left for California. To take care of ourselves and keep following our dreams. Yesterday I did both, and I'm just so glad I have this group of people to hold my hand while I do it. 

Eli, thanks for dating me. I love you and I like you more every day. 

Sam and Kelsey and Lottie and John, thanks for being my friend. You're the support system that my body wasn't built with, but needs nonetheless. 

I think it's important, whether you're in a relationship or not, to take a step back every few months and evaluate where you are now in comparison to where you were then. Because it's so easy to forget how far we've come, and downplay our achievements. But they're there, because we've made them happen. 


 -Fran

This Week [#4: Coming Together]

 Though not technically the fourth week in this series, it's my fourth week of making this style of blog post. Sometimes the weeks get away from you, which is why I'm trying to make the effort to work on this each day of the week, which ensures the mindfulness I'm after.

 Monday: Treating yourself to a self-love day. Starting the day with a bath, writing some essays, and taking a long walk that takes you both to where you've been and where you are. It's a weird, metaphorical day.

 Tuesday: The day when you breathe a sigh of relief at all of the "FINALLY"'s coming your way. FINALLY finding the perfect Christmas presents for the people in your life who deserve it so much. FINALLY painting again, even if it's something small, after close to a year of not picking up a brush. FINALLY seeing the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them trailer, after two years of eagerly anticipating the Eddie Redmayne led return to the Wizarding World you've loved your whole life. FINALLY working on that essay you said you'd start all day.  Finally, finally, finally.

 Wednesday: Tackling huge problems that feel like the end of the world, and realizing the people that validate and support you most aren't necessarily the people you'd expect.

 Thursday: Crushing it. Accomplishing all of the things you put off, then having a miniature Star Wars re-watch and deciding you love Han Solo (among others).

 Friday: To grandmother's house we go. Nearly freezing to death taking pictures by a lake you've loved your whole life, with someone who you've just begun to love. Realizing that it doesn't take much to make certain people happy, but what matters is that you choose to do it.

 Saturday: Finally feeling useful and watching your friends' business grow and thrive in front of your eyes. Then watching the person you love geek the hell out over Star Wars, and loving it because of how much you love him.

  Sunday: Having hard conversations, watching an iconic Diane Keaton movie, and correctly guessing the writer of said movie. (Nancy Meyers for the win.)

 It's fascinating to me how easily stressful things can become fun and beautiful when you're with the right people. I used to dread trips to see extended family. But Friday I had the best time I've ever had at my grandparent's house. Maybe it's that I've grown up, and maybe it's because of who I was with, and maybe it's both. Ordinarily, I would be horrified by a movie theater packed with overly excited nerds. Saturday, it wasn't at all scary. It was beautiful and fun and light and full of giddy happiness. This week I realized something I've suspected for a while: people are the difference.

 -Fran

This Week [#3: Family]

This holiday week/weekend was a time of figuring out what "family" means, and what it means to me. It really feels like that's what this week was about, because from beginning to end, that's the message that kept cropping up.

 Mondays: Watching great shows and having adult realizations that make you want to lay on the floor, give up, and die.

 Tuesdays: Watching The Mindy Project while you bake, which you feel like Mindy would definitely approve of.

Wednesdays: Reading great graphic novels, reuniting with friends, and going to impromptu Friendsgiving gatherings with the great best friend love of your life and getting Panera at 10 pm because you're cool like that.

Thursdays: When your favorite holiday always falls on your favorite day of the week and you have a kind of crappy day but you eat pie and hang out with a two year old who loves you despite the fact that you're imperfect and it makes it all better.

Fridays: Watching a movie about emotions with your family, crying your eyes out, and then going to bed early.

Saturdays: Telling your friends you're in aisle 20B when you're actually sitting at a table waiting for them and you didn't think they'd actually go there but they did. And then playing a card game you've been playing with your family for years and feeling like this small group of weirdos just might be your new family.

Sundays: Watching TV and napping. Eating. 

(Rinse and repeat until it's 10 pm and you're too tired to do it anymore.) Question: If it's a Sunday and you're actually a productive member of society, was it really a Sunday?

 It's weird when you get to an age where "family" is no longer the extended family you were born into, but the extended family you choose. I think how our culture defines family is arbitrary. I think we make our own families, and I think it's pointless to love people just because you're supposed to. It means a lot more when you choose them yourself, when you choose to love people despite how hard it might be sometimes. My family has become much more than my parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles. It now consists of: Starbucks employees, coffee shop owners, musicians, writers, artists and generally beautiful people (inside and out). It's people who call you on their break when you're having your third existential crisis of the week, it's people who you'd drive an hour and a half just to see for two hours, it's people who sit down and help force you to write because they get that you're having trouble doing it on your own, it's people who play cards with you in an emptying Wegmans on a Saturday night because there's nowhere else to go. These people are my family. 

 -Fran

This Week [#2: A Little Out of Focus]

Welcome to my week. It was a little out of focus.

  Mondays: When you get boring, mundane things done and it makes you feel like the king of the world... Like finishing a book you've been reading for a month, finishing season 2 of 30 Rock, cleaning your car, and doing laundry.

 Tuesdays: The great thing about going out to breakfast is that it's one less thing you have to do before you leave when you inevitably get up too late because you were having a dream about Evan Peters.

 Wednesdays: When you surprise yourself by writing essays and then the world gets very exhausting.

Thursdays: When you do yoga, draft essays and then FaceTime a two year old.

 Fridays: When you get a check in the mail that you weren't expecting, which feels like a sign from the universe that you're on the right track, so you decide to go home the long way round and experience some truly gorgeous views.

 Saturdays: When you find yourself scream-singing the new Adele album, both with your best friend in her coffee shop at too early of an hour, and alone in your car at a much later one.

Sundays: When you go to "breakfast" that ends up being both breakfast and lunch, (but not brunch) and then buy too many cozy winter items at Target, and then feel the sweet relief of knowing that your favorite character is okay.

This week, I felt a little out of focus. A little all over the place. I got things done without planning to, and other things cropped up that I didn't plan either. Basically, it was a week of the unexpected, the unplanned, but not unpleasantly so. I felt out of focus, off kilter, but life was still beautiful. I'm excited for the coming week of holidays and being reunited with people I love. Thinking about that as I go into this week. I like this blog format, because it's a place to catch my thoughts as they come. It's usually formal and polished, but it's also natural.

  -Fran

This Week [#1: This Life]

 Since I've been doing NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month in the month of November-- in which brave writers across the world attempt to write a 50,000 word novel in a month), and have been daily vlogging the experience, I haven't been doing my Weekly Vlogs on my YouTube channel. And while I know I will get back to doing them in December, I miss the experience. I miss the routine of capturing the little, beautiful, happy moments throughout my week, and choosing how to put them together at the end of the week. I miss telling stories with those few images. So in an attempt to continue to do this during NaNoWriMo, I've been taking snapshots everyday. Just quick pictures of what my day consisted of, in lieu of taking footage every day.

 Mondays are for binge-watching whole seasons of awesome, inspiring TV shows on your boyfriend's Netflix.

 Tuesdays are for falling asleep in your bed at 4:30 watching How To Get Away With Murder because it was rainy and windy and your lights and the Medicare commercials lulled you to sleep.

 Wednesdays are for getting up too early, accomplishing nothing, and then giving up at 2:30 pm and taking a Lush bath.

 Thursdays are for accomplishing all of the things you didn't do Wednesday, like writing 1,000 words in your favorite coffee shop, listening to music, Pinterest-ing and eating too much chocolate.

 Fridays are for running about like a crazy person, scrambling to get web series minisodes ready for upload, and cupping coffees that taste like teas.

 Saturdays are for stressful but ultimately lovely meetings of parents, and impromptu road trips to middle of nowhere places, where all there is is a sign and a general feeling.

Finally, Sunday is the day on which you feel the luckiest-- where you get to spend the day taking photos in the woods for your best friend's coffee shop, then eating Sunday dinner with those same friends and watching The Walking Dead with them. Sunday is the day to spend with family. And this week, I got to do that.

I hope you guys enjoyed this collective look at my week. It was really fun and grounding to make this blog post, as it forced me to keep track of the moments that would otherwise slip away from me. As we get closer to the holiday season, it is so easy to fall into that mindset of "just getting things done." But when we do that, we get to the end of the week and can't see anything but the productivity (or lack thereof). The beautiful, lovely, fun moments get lost in the shuffle, and we forget them. We forget to be grateful for them. I don't want to forget them. I want to stay present, mindful, and grateful for the life I get to live. And I think this blog post format is a way for me to do that. So what I guess I'm saying is-- get used to this. Because I'm going to be doing it every week from now on.

 -Fran

Keeping Up Appearances

 I started this blog in January of this year, and I must say: I'm really proud of and happy with how I've kept up with it. I was just going through my list of blog posts and noted how I have posted three per month. That's roughly one per week. And that's something I'm really proud of, because life is insane. It moves so fast, and so much is happening constantly, so I'm really proud of the fact that I've made a commitment, once a week, to write something here. Seeing that progress put down in numbers over the past ten months has made me realize that this is something I can see myself doing for the rest of my life. Not just writing for this blog, but writing in general.

 I'm also just amazed at how quickly this year has passed. I know it's only October, and yet-- IT'S ALREADY OCTOBER. It feels like a millisecond ago it was January and I was in a very different coffee shop with my friends making a short film. And now, I'm in my best friend's coffee shop making vlogs and talking about the web series we made together.

 I'm doing things for me now. I'm doing what I want and living my life for me, and not spending every second of every day focusing on other people. I'm no longer paralyzed by fear of what others will think of me. I'm no longer doing things simply for the sake of keeping up appearances. I'm no longer pretending to be the person I think other people need me to be. I'm being myself. And that's not to say that I don't still care what people think. Of course I do. But I'm not allowing their thoughts to change me: what I do or who I am. I think that's allowing me to be more giving of myself. And that fact has reminded me of something I don't think enough people take to heart: you can't help others until you help yourself first. 

 -Fran

Treat. Yo. Self.

This weekend was a little slice of heaven. If the past three days are any indication of what my adult life will be, I'm in. Sign me up. Saturday morning I drove into the sunrise to spend the morning at Peaks Coffee Company with my closest friends. I listened to the most amazing song, and felt grateful because the life unfolding before my eyes looked like it had been taken directly from some awesome indie movie with amazing cinematography. At 9 am, (a time at which I am usually barely breathing) I left to go to my typical every-other-Saturday-shift at the library from 10-3.

 Sunday I woke up late and went apple picking with my family, an annual Colombus Day weekend event. I thought a lot about how this time last year (do I sound like a broken record yet?) I tried so hard to convince myself that I was happy. But I wasn't. This time, however, on the long, traffic-laden drive to the orchard, I couldn't stop smiling. It felt so amazing to just breathe in the moments, and not feel like I had to force them to be moments. When I got home, I lit some autumnal candles and watched the scariest thing my delicate sensibilities can handle-- American Horror Story: Hotel. I ended the day by going to my friend Kelsey's house for some quality Walking Dead bro time. There was monkey bread, popcorn, and a cat sat on my lap. (I know that sounds like a children's story, but it really happened and I was thrilled about it.)

 But Monday was the best day by far. I started the day off right-- with waffles topped with ice cream at my favorite local waffle place. My friend had a spiritual waffle experience, as this was his first time there. Then we got on the road to Rochester, NY for the second time this fall. We spent the day just hanging around Rochester with Kelsey, Sam, and Sam's sister. Kelsey and I finally got to go to Lush together, which was everything I'd ever dreamed of and more. In hindsight I probably spent too much money there, but then I remembered that today is "Treat Yo Self Day" (it's from Parks & Recreation, guys...) and I felt less guilty. After that, we spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in Pour Coffee Parlor with two other friends who now live in Rochester, which is as beautiful and aesthetic as it sounds. I enjoyed a chocolate overload with a chocolate cupcake and hot chocolate, and I have no regrets.

 Some people might not have enjoyed the day I had yesterday. I mean, who makes a lengthy drive to Rochester just to hit up a glorified vegan Bath & Body Works and then sit in a coffee shop for three hours? Well...us. I love these people I've surrounded myself by because they are the kind of people who don't mind taking a day trip just to enjoy the day. They don't have to make a huge ordeal out of something to enjoy it. There is a quiet simplicity in these friendships that I value more than anything else in the world.

 I love the generosity of autumn. I think there's something about the cold air and turning leaves that brings out geniality and for lack of a better term...the best in people. Unlike the Christmas season, which has just become a breeding ground for commercialism and unnecessary stress and anxiety, autumn is to me the most giving time of year. It's harder to do things with the people you love, with school and sports having started up again, but that just means it's that much more worthwhile when plans come together.

That's why this weekend was so great. I was busy, and maybe a little tired, but I was happy. I worked, I got inspired, and I loved. And I'm starting to realize that's all I can ever really ask for in this life.

Happy "Treat Yo Self Day" everyone. I hope you make the most of it!

 -Fran

Peaks & Valleys

This Saturday I had the best time you could ever have in the frozen wasteland that is Central New York in March. My best friend Kelsey, who I’ve mentioned countless times on this blog, in my YouTube videos, and on Twitter and Instagram, has long harbored a dream of one day owning her own coffee shop. And after many, many months of working jobs that caused her pain, working hard to make the best product she could possibly create, and changing the title of that dream from coffee shop to coffee company, she’s finally there. Peaks Coffee Company is real! And I can honestly say that even if I wasn’t best friends with the owner, I would love this company. I mean, just look at what's written on the back of their bags! 

   "From bean to cup our coffee is roasted fresh with care, cupped for quality, and packaged to order. This life is full of peaks and valleys. So as humble friends we offer our hands to you. This coffee is our guarantee that we will be there to serve you a freshly roasted cup both at your peaks and in your valleys. Stay humble, stay hopeful.  -Peaks Coffee Company"

I’m honestly so honored to be a small part of this momentous achievement of hers. A little backstory on Kelsey and I: although we started off mere acquaintances in 7th grade, when it comes down to it, we’ve been there for each other at our greatest peaks and valleys. In our senior year of high school, when she was experiencing her first major valley, I did everything in my power to be there for her. And in the fall of 2013, when I experienced the greatest and most terrifying valley of my life, she was more than there for me. She got me through it. So to be able to be here with her, at this incredible Peak of hers, is truly an honor. 

Over the past few months, I’ve watched her work harder at this than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. Countless weekends standing in the freezing cold, roasting coffee beans on her back porch with her honest-to-God-saint-of-a-boyfriend Sam. Days and weeks and months spent calculating, charting, and "cupping" her authentic roasts. Hours and hours spent writing, designing, and researching the “aesthetic" and look of her brand. And this weekend, it all paid off. On Saturday, she and the rest of us Peaks volunteers had our first gig at a local antique store called the Heckled Hen. We started off in the parking lot, attempting to brew coffee in the 16 degree weather. That didn’t last long, however, and we soon found ourselves packed in to the antique store itself, in a very precarious corner of the store filled with fragile glassware and teacups. (How fitting, right?) But with only a little table and a single Chemex to brew with, Kelsey and Sam made coffee magic happen. Sam commanded that tiny corner, and with it a small army of eager listeners, as people young and old came through to check out the Heckled Hen’s open house. We did better than we had anticipated, as we came in with about 25 lbs of coffee and left with a mere 6.

Despite the fact that the event had it’s ups and downs, it’s peaks and valleys if you will, I personally felt that it was the most perfect Saturday from start to finish. Earlier that morning, the Peaks crew got together at Dave’s Diner, a little place just across the street from the Heckled Hen, to do what we do best-- eat breakfast food and talk coffee. And even though we had to meet at 8 am (!!!!) it was delightful. The waffles were great and the conversation was even better, which is really all I could ever ask for. 

In the past year and a half, I’ve learned a lot about myself, and about life. I feel like I've changed so much in the past few months even. But, God, am I ever thankful for it. I’ve learned that we’re not all going to be as hugely successful as we think we will be. But we do have lasting effects on the people around us, and that’s not nothing. I’ve learned that it is more than okay to not be happy all the time. I’ve learned that I deserve love, I deserve to be treated like I matter, and I shouldn’t let people in my life who don’t treat me thusly. But more than that, I've learned that I have to believe it for myself first, and demand to be treated the way I deserve.

I’m experiencing some peaks and valleys of my own right now, but it’s okay, because I have good people in my life. Like Kelsey. And Sam. And even though I spent the rest of the weekend feeling exhausted and scared and altogether unwilling to leave my bed, I’m still happy. I’m happy because I got to spend my Saturday morning with friends new and old, drinking hot beverages, eating diner food, and working on making my closest compadre's dreams come true. I'm happy because I can see that we're all starting to become the people we were meant to be, and I feel privileged to bear witness to it. Because it’s really a beautiful thing to witness.

 -Fran 

P.S.~ You can find Peaks Coffee Company on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram right now, and a website will be coming soon. :)