magic · Melanie Kristy · musings · Story

Do That Thing.

Do that thing.

Do that thing that makes you come alive. Find your passion and let it fuel you. Don’t lose sight of the world around you, the dreams you’ve always had. Don’t forget the friends who are soulmates, and the experiences that shape you. Let one weekend in a little city in Oklahoma change you. Let three brothers in a band make you.

Allow the thing you love to become you. Allow yourself to get lost in passion and forget who you might have been. Remember the teenager inside you, aching to come out. Learn everything you can about everything. Grow wings and fly.

Read the books that break you. Love the people even though it might hurt you. Be wild and free. Be alive and awake. Be aware. Create your bucket list and check off items. Add more things. Never finish that list. Sing the songs on repeat until they’ve memorized. Detail lives and experiences on your skin. Document your life in words and pictures.

Know what you believe in. Go after it. Jump far for it. Fight for your beliefs. Fight for yourself. Fight for everyone around you.
You’ve only got this one life. We aren’t immortal creatures. Live that one life.

Do that thing.



Do The Things : Pilgrim Monument

If I could give you one piece of advice, something I am trying to stick to as much as I can right now it is: do the things. Do everything you can. Make sure you aren’t allowing your life to feel stagnant. Don’t let time pass by without you knowing. Make those plans. Climb the m-f-ing monument. All 116 steps. Just do it.

So for a few years now I’ve been telling my friend that we need to go to Provincetown, MA (also known as P-Town, the tip of Cape Cod and where the Pilgrims landed before they settled in Plymouth). I’ve wanted to climb the Pilgrim Monument for so long, and I’ve been afraid because I am / was terribly out of shape. I’m slightly less out of shape right now, but I’m certainly not conditioned to climb a lot of stairs.

I wanted to wait until I was in better shape. I remember climbing a tower when I was in Italy, ten long years ago, and feeling miserable and kind of scared. I remember feeling claustrophobic as we climbed, somehow worried this tower couldn’t handle the weight of us all. The weight of me. Take a look at this building and then somehow equate how mixed up my mind hand to be for me to think it couldn’t hold me. I also think it might have been slightly swaying, but I can’t remember.

This year we finally set a date to drive the couple hours to P-Town. I took the stairs more at work (one measly flight) and I braced myself for our climb.

Before you go up the tower there’s a museum you can go through. One side had a lot of Provincetown art, and the other side was a historical account of the 17th Century. The tower was built to commemorate the Pilgrims landing in Provincetown. They are very proud of this fact. They will be sure to tell you the Pilgrims were there first, signing the Mayflower Compact before even setting foot on land. They left Provincetown because the sand was too difficult to grow crop in (but not before stealing some maize first).

The Pilgrim Monument is 252 feet tall. There are 116 steps and 60 ramps. The climb up wasn’t as bad as I expected, probably because of the ramps. Along the inside there are stone plaques mostly of Massachusetts towns and the years they were established. At the top you are enclosed with some windows and a couple view finders that you can slip a quarter in and see things closer up.

Have you ever been to Provincetown?

x. Melanie

travel · Uncategorized

Adventures In Vermont


Despite living a few short hours away and spending my freshman year of college 20 minutes away, the great state of Vermont has always been a mystery to me.

People I know are always going there to hike and snowboard, and that’s about it. Last year my ex and I pulled Vermont as our next trip destination and we couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the closeness. Out of a deck of 80 some odd states and countries, we pulled Vermont. Sure, we would drive a few hours and look at trees.

Oh, what adventure.


We found a few things to plan on seeing, but we never ended up going. So when Vermont was an option for a “girls weekend” in place of a bachelorette party for my friend Karen, I was excited to check it out.

I wanted my weekend getaway in the woods. I wanted to unplug and allow my surrounding to inspire me.

Of course, it snowed. We left Massachusetts on March 31st, and we were in New England. You have to expect there might be snow.

So I had a long drive ahead of me. The normal drive would have been two and a half hours, but I had to stop by Logan airport (right before rush hour) to pick up a few of the girls. So between the commute into Boston and the dreary weather, it took a lot longer. Luckily we didn’t hit any real snow — the stuff that sticks — until we were almost in Vermont, and by then our trek was almost over. Our destination was only a few slushy, questionable roads off the highway at a farmhouse in Southern Vermont.

Vermont charmed me even before crossing state lines.

And that house is incredible. I’d only stayed in an Airbnb once before, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from it, but it surpassed my expectations. There were lots of rooms, a cozy electric fireplace, board games and old books. The Matron of Honor had cooked us dinner and set up little welcome boxes with sweets and goodies inside. Outside there were buckets attached to trees to collect sap that’s turned into Maple syrup. A fresh layer of snow covered the grounds. It was perfect in so many ways.


Our first night we spent eating and hanging with a few people getting to know each other. We explored the house and gasped with amazement over and over again. On day two we had a lazy start. It was still snowing, so we spent our time eating breakfast and hanging out, unwinding. Then in the afternoon, we ventured out to see a covered bridge, a cute little basket store and Brattleboro, Vermont.



I love downtown areas. I love the cute, charming stores and coffee shops. I love local restaurants and bookstores. Brattleboro has that. By the time we arrived downtown it was around 5 pm and a lot of the local stores close around then, even on a Saturday night. Because of this, we were not able to go into all the cute shops, but we managed to find a bookstore and some building art to check out before dinner.


We went to a store called Basketville that was filled with – you guessed it – woven baskets, but also lots of other local things like syrup, candies, and tea.


The next morning we ate dinner at a train car diner that served farm to table food. Everyone ordered something different, and the friendliness of the wait staff amazed us. We walked through the woods and checked out the buckets of sap that would be made into maple syrup. I can’t wait to go back, I remember thinking. I didn’t even mind the drive home, alone. I listened to an audiobook and left feeling refreshed.


Vermont is a place I’d love to visit again. I didn’t see much of it, but I know that it’s my style (well, except for during the winter because winter is not my season).

Have you ever been to Vermont? What’s your favorite place there?