Maroon is the Color of Love

Valentine’s Day.

Yes, I know it’s not here yet. But if you’ve been to a Walgreens, Wal-mart or any other American retailer since mid January, you’ve probably been blinded by all that red and pink. I kind of hate it. And no, not because I’m one of those girls who is super anti-Valentine’s Day because I never got enough cards in school—believe me, I’ve gotten over it. I just don’t like red. It’s like being slapped in the face with anger. Or war. Or severe P.M.S. Nothing about the color red is appealing to me. Nothing. Neither is its goofy half-brother orange, but that’s a rant for a different day. Most times, I avoid anything red because it reminds me of my seventh grade science teacher—perpetually pissed off. It’s such an angry color, which makes me wonder why Bruce Banner turned green which is supposedly the color of tranquility?? I don’t know… I just don’t like red. Pink is tolerable. If it’s on a cupcake or a pig. Maybe a cookie.

So every January and February rolls around and I have to prepare myself for the inevitable blindings. I forget it’s coming up, because we just finished New Years and the next holiday is a MONTH away. A month! But we can’t prepare too early for chocolate giving and eating—no, no, no, that’d be outrageous. Except, Batman and I really don’t do Valentine’s Day. We did once, I think. Or was that an anniversary? I don’t know. We celebrated something in a fancy restaurant toward the beginning of the year. Could’ve been a spring cleaning for all I know. But Valentine’s Day really isn’t a holiday for us. What we get excited about—I kid you not—is picking out our candy. Oh yes, we are candy coinsurers, if you call starring at all the options and after ten minutes of going back and forth, finally deciding on what we want the other to get us. Yup. That is what seven years of a relationship will get you. Drool and indecision. Of course I’m wincing the whole time because I’m starring into a wall of angriness disguised into hearts and roses. I should probably make it fast—pick something and get out—but like my Christmas presents, I have to stop and examine everything. That’s right—I actually torture myself in the pursuit of selecting the best candy option. Maybe I’ll want a bag of dark chocolate doves this year, or a cane of pink Kisses with almonds. Or maybe a heart shaped box with the cast of Duck Dynasty on it. I pointed this out to Batman to which he replied:

“I don’t want beard in my chocolate.”

Well noted. And agreed.

We only found ourselves trapped in the red light glow once so far, but we still have two weeks. Or is it three? I’m not really counting, except until it’s over so my eyes can adjust again. Plus, I need to get past eating all that candy. It’s doing nothing to help my resolution to lose weight as I hear massive amounts of chocolate only add to your waist, not decrease it. Bummer.

So

I’ve been wearing my sister’s maternity pants for the last few days. Not to work or anything, but to Wal-mart and Chili’s and pretty much everywhere I travel when I actually leave this apartment. You kind of can’t tell they’re maternity pants and even if you can… oh well. They’re amazing. I grabbed them in a mad dash to look for more jeans this past weekend and haven’t taken them off. My other pair broke when I was trying to fix the zipper that technically wasn’t really broken. At first I was slightly embarrassed to even yank them from my drawer, but really, I think it’s a blessing in disguise. Can we all just agree to wear maternity pants? Can that be the new thing? If shoulder pads and leg warmers worked in the eighties, why can’t oh-so comfortable velvety maroon pants be the new thing? Come on… let’s get crazy for once and put comfort above style. It’s a novel idea, I admit, and it may just be because I’m wearing them right now. Jealous? HAHA of course you are. Believe me—I’m not leading you down a path into sloppiness hell. I mean yes, we may pass through, but it’s just a pit stop. And who doesn’t like sightseeing?

I’ll tell you what—they’re a lifesaver when all the major holidays roll around. Like Thanksgiving, like Christmas, like Valentine’s Day. Oh yeah, I’ve kept them stashed at the apartment since my sister let me borrow them years ago because I needed a pair of pajama pants. And I’m never giving them back. Even if she pops out another kid, I’ll go and buy her more because I just can’t part with this amazing creation. And honestly, I’ll probably be wearing them when Batman and I check out Walgreens this week to do another drool and stare session. It hurts my eyes but at least my lower half will be comfy. Because, as I’ve come to realize these past few days, maroon is the color of love. Not red.

Look at them. AMAZING

Look at them. AMAZING

I Took Them for a Reason

I take tons of pictures—either I’m playing around with my phone or I happen to have it out and see something amazing, something I simply *must* capture. Most are taken with the intention of putting them up here and… yeah… guess I failed that one. I think about three pictures have made it onto this blog and lame, I know. What can I say? I get distracted easily. Oh yeah, I’m also super lazy. But Sir Carlton made it up. And the major award was posted last time…so… some points are rewarded right? No? Okay, well… going forward, it’s on. Like Donkey Kong, bitch. Pictures are going up! I could just resolve to do this in the future, but, as I took a butt load of them to share with you-my invisible audience-I still want you to see. I’m doing a camera spring cleaning and besides, I took them for a reason.

They’re awesome.

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This I think is just fucking gorgeous. Yes, Batman gave me these flowers when they were very much alive. I snapped a couple photos of them too but after they’d passed through Hospice and still sat on the dining room table, I went crazy with the camera. I’m not sure why, but they seemed pretty in their gravely appearance. It’s very Jack and Sally of me, but I think that’s a compliment. So thank you. Batman couldn’t understand why I was getting so excited by my four week old flowers (could’ve been longer…) but how could I not? Look at them. They’re beautiful. They’re like…those bitchy flowers from Alice in Wonderland, except not terrible at all. I’m sure they’re actually very nice and speak in fine British accents when we’re not around, passing each other fancy mustard and whatever. They certainly wouldn’t push me and shoot water or whatever they did to Alice. Batman would never get me flowers like that. It’s just rude.

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These I took at my mother’s. It’s very inspired by all the art classes I took in high school and never really paid attention to because I was too busy starting at the cute boy in class. You know, priorities. But, I did pay attention in photography, because it was something I actually enjoyed. Well… I paid attention a majority of the time. And apparently, it was when we learned about lines and shapes. Because I really excelled at that in kindergarten. And colors. As you will see, I have a thing for colors. They just really rock. Ever read The Giver? I think the scariest thing about that book is that their entire world consists of black and white and shades of grey (but no Christen Grey!) God, what a drab world. So yeah, colors are amazing. And lines and shapes and I also like plants, as you can tell from these first three pictures. I can’t take all the credit because my mom has an amazing garden of crazy fauna and I went nuts snapping pictures one day in November. So voilla! Professional plant photographer here I come!

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This spectacular picture is what I see every day on my drive home because I’m always stopped at the same stop light. This ever happen to anyone? I’m a street away from my apartments and I never catch it on the green. But, the good thing is that I take a look to my left and see… this. I guess you could say there’s nothing special there but that’s what makes you WRONG. Look at it, you butthead. With the sun setting and the trees and grass absorbing all those beautiful rays… it’s picturesque. Hence the picture. I use to hate being stopped a street from my apartment but now I look forward to it. Honest to God. Sometimes when I’m stuck at work and just waiting for that five o’clock to roll around, I think about what the evening will bring. Batman will be prepping something for dinner…I’ll watch about an hour of TV and then write until about 9:30 or later. But before all that, on my way home, I get to see this. You might think it’s silly or stupid or not worth remembering, but everyday I’m stopped and I get to gaze out to the serene scene, a calm settles over me. And I’m the world’s most impatient person. But I don’t mind waiting. Not at this stoplight anymore. Not when I get to look out and see this. It reminds me how much beauty really exists in the world. We just have to open our eyes and see it.

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This… I love this. I took him on the wall of a bathroom in a funky restaurant in Downtown Disney. My friend Seattle was doing her business and as I had no business of my own, I waited by the sinks. And found him. My awkward frog. My queasy Kermit. That face. I LOVE that face. I think I just stood there, starring at him, desperately wishing I knew what was behind that expression. Bad fly? Painful wart? I just kept starring at him, most creepily, like I was deciphering the secret of Mona Lisa’s smile. Because that’s what he is to me—my amphibian Mona List. I still don’t know. What do you think is behind that expression? Go on, I DARE you to answer.

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Ah yes, this I took on a bad day, when I was feeling most morose. It was after a pretty terrible week and on the car ride home from Chili’s (when I’d accidently knocked my entire plate of food on myself), Batman was trying to comfort me. But I was sad. Depressed. Nothing would make me feel better. And then I looked out the window and saw this miserable chap. “That’s how I feel,” I told Batman. Me and the palm just starred at each other, identifying with one another on the grey day we shared. And before Batman drove us away, I took a quick snap of him—my melancholy partner. Ever have days when you just feel like him? Yeah, you do. We all do. At least we can hide it. But he has to put it out there for the world to see. Sucks to be a dejected palm tree.

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This was taken on New Year’s day. It was rainy, as you can see, but I love rainy days. I love everything about them. The grey-white sky, the scent of wet earth, the sound of water hitting the ground or, in some cases, a backyard lake. It’s relaxing and, for me, the best days to write. And I did. I got a good amount done on the first, finally working on the edits of my second book which I’d put off for a long while. But I kept getting distracted. With the wonderful grey day outside. I’d write a little, stop and turn around to see this. Yeah, I was getting artsy with the camera angle but I wanted to get all those droplets. It was wet and beautiful and the perfect day to start the New Year. It’s got to be a good sign—right?

So, there you go. Those were just a handful of ALL the pictures I’ve snapped on my phone. I shall continue on, because that is who I am, what I do, but I will try my hardest to post them up as I take them. But of course, my laziness may overrule me again. Who knows? It’s a New Year.

Let’s see what happens…

It’s Going to Be a Good Year

Happy new years to all and to all an AMAZING 2014!

Am I right?

I’m not sure about you, but my 2013 was tough. Parts of it at least. I published my first book last year (I get to say last year now-thank GOD) and I’m pretty sure that was the highlight. Don’t get me wrong—nothing terrible happened. Everyone’s alive and healthy, but it was just sort of crummy. And I think a lot of people—several I know—shared in the waft of tardliciousness that was 2013.

I went to a party at my friend’s house last night. It’s been a while since Batman and I craned ourselves off the couch and actually ventured into the world to bring in the New Year with other people. I’m proud of myself for staying up past the ball dropping and—wait for it—all the way until two. That’s right. TWO. Do I get any applause? I only ask because I’m usually asleep by—what’s the going joke? 7:00? 7:30? Haha… no. It’s 10, people. I’m usually asleep by 10, 10:30 if I’m feeling somewhat wild. So anything past that is ridiculously late for me and thoroughly surprising to everyone else. Even on New Years. But I had to bring in the new year with dancing and drinking and friends and not allowing the slow crummy creep of 2013 to meld into another year. Not happening. This year’s going to be different.

It’s going to be great.

Alright, time for resolutions. This year I will:

Lose weight. I know this is like, the number one resolution, but I really need to do it. I told Batman a while ago that I can actually feel my butt. Like, when I walk, when I stand. I think the term he referenced was “tank ass,” but kindly assured me I didn’t have one. Not that I mind having a booty—I just don’t want it orbiting my body.  So yes, this year will be about making less trips to the closet for cookies and more walks around the lake. I tried making it a daily habit back in October and Batman and I really worked hard at it for the first week… until…

Yeah. I’ll try harder.

Save money. This may be the second thing people strive for at the beginning of the New Year, or maybe to make more money. Either works for me really. This paycheck to paycheck has been awesome and all for the past… lifetime, but I’m going to try for some more wiggle room. Batman and I enjoy our cinematic adventures and with the prices of these movies rising faster than my income, we have to sit a few out.  It’s not a travesty in the slightest, but it’s kind of our thing. Seeing movies. We don’t really eat out, or even go out, but a film here and there makes us feel like actual adults out in the world. Yes, you read that right. Seeing a movie makes us feel like adults. See what I’m getting at with the money thing here? So yes, save more, make more, whichever. I just better be able to see Mockingjay this year. Or someone will hurt.

Publish my second book. I have it back from my editor’s and have finally started working on it. The goal is to have it out by late February… maybe mid March? I’m being realistic here, but also optimistic. If I sort of-kind of worked at it here and there, I’d quote you something more like mid-year, maybe beginning of fall. But I have to write every day. I HAVE to. Call it… my heroin. I went clean for a week recently with the holidays and after receiving the edits on my manuscript when I went to a dark place thinking how *terrible* a writer I am and how I should never do it again… but then I fell off the wagon and succumbed to the need. It happens. And I’m too weak-willed to ignore it. I only use a drug reference because I feel withdrawals if I go a day without writing. Honest to God. It’s like holding my breath for too long or something. So yes, be prepared for the second book for those of you who actually read the first. And thank you by the way—you rock!

Write more blogs. Yes, I know—I’ve been lame in not posting like… ever. I think I only had one post in December. Not that you’re sitting around, twiddling your thumbs and waiting for the latest update on what Batman and I have been doing (which is most likely nothing) but I’ve been meaning to. Honestly. I’ve actually started a few and then just never finished them. I’m not sure if I’m distracted (probably) or if it’s not quite blog-worthy material. I mean, come on, for you guys? You deserve only the *best*.

In a recent hangout at B&N with Mrs. Whatever, I told her about a few of the blogs that just never made it to press. Like the one where I came out of the bathroom in my work’s lobby and found myself alone with an overweight golden retriever. No collar. No owner. Just me and a possible Cujo. Until he turned around and panted out the goofiest grin I’d ever seen. Yes. I was face to face with a fat Doug (anyone see UP?) And on my way out, his old man rivers owner that magically appeared (aka hiding behind the wall) assured me in his shaky, rather serious voice, “Be careful. He smiles.” It had me laughing for DAYS and I even stated a blog about it. But it fizzled out and something distracted me and it just never happened. I will *try* my hardest not to let that happen again, so you will all be up to date on my exchanges with old men and their dogs. SQUIRREL!

Move into a new apartment. This needs to happen. Three years ago. Batman and I are busting at the seams here. Things are stacking up in the corners. The one closet we have is overflowing with… just about everything that doesn’t fit on the table or in the little bit of cabinet space we have. Now, I *love* this apartment—I do. It’s our first home together. But I want to not trip ALL the time and actually have space to put the new things that we collect from the world and bring back here. So, we will be relocating. Probably within the same complex (because I don’t want to move too far from our favorite breakfast joint and I really like the Christmas light display the apartments do here).

So there you have it. My 2014 resolutions.

Oh, and look at what Batman and I picked up from a swing into Walgreens last night:

Leg Lamp

It’s a major award!

Oh yeah, it’s going to be a good year.

Totes McGoats.