Feels Good…

I had a major cleaning of the room this past weekend. How cathartic. It’s so fresh and so clean, and so neat and well-put together. I love it. The old bed is going to be made every morning now, rather than subscribing to the 8th grade belief of why bother; the books and things are lined up in nice, pretty rows, the clothes now suspend from hangers (what a concept), instead of the weird system I had going, of which will remain a secret weird system. All things considered, I’m very content. The last phase of Project Clean-Up will be the heartwrenching task of deciding what shoes to keep and what shoes to give away to the thrift stores. Sigh. Tears may be shed. I love all my shoes, even the ones that kill my poor toes. We shall see. I don’t intend on being too sentimental, though. If I can trash college mementos and things of that nature, then shoes and other things can surely go.

It rained yesterday, it’s raining today. I won’t complain. Whatever. If they find me on the interstate, in the middle of a nice, long nervous breakdown, blame it on the rain.

Onwards and upwards…

My Tummy Hurts.

I just ate, I believe, about six weeks worth of food. One should never, ever do that. I think I’m seeing colors.

I’m Trapped in a Candy Store and I Love It!

So let’s say you have loads of candy sitting in your purse. Don’t go on and on about it. You never know if persons within earshot and in the vicinity attend support groups for candy lovers. Or whether a particular person has sworn off chocolate for the rest of their natural life. Or whether someone in the area is on a massive diet, and, upon hearing your candy-loving monologue, goes on some kind of eating spree throughout the tri-state area.

Yes, I have a specific reason for the diatribe above.

Yes, the diatribe is racked with symbolism.

Yes, it just happened, and I am severely annoyed.

Yes, still quite annoyed.

Yes, I will commence with getting over it.

Freddie & Fleur

Ah, time flies when you’re insanely busy and wracked with sinus pressure. Welcome back, Girley.

I received two new surprises yesterday and today. Yesterday, I was given a brand new plant! So nice, wasn’t it? His name is – wait for it – Freddie. Yes, my Freddie is a replacement for my old friend and colleague, Mr. Frederick, the sad-eyed receiver of either no saturation or far too much. And because of the statement I just made, I was given a command by Mama to bring Freddie home immediately to be raised under her watchful eye. So, to stop the likelihood of yet another death by these hands, Freddie is going home.

Today’s surprise was a bouquet of beaUtiful sunflowers. Purple and pink and yellow – just an assortment of prettiness and floral sunshine. Her name is Fleur, which is French for flower. I’ll do my best to keep her alive. My level best.

Oh, fatigue! Why do you come at 3:15?

Another Lemon, Apparently

Several years ago, I purchased a car that quickly manifested itself as a lemon. It was horrible. Nevertheless, I have come to terms. It seems, though, that I have a problem with purchasing lemon-y items. From scrunchies to hair moisturizer, from *Blockbuster DVDs to food–I experience 95% of the lemon.

And now, it seems that the GPS I recently bought to save me from further unplanned trips down the Interstate? Is a lemon! A good friend informed me that it wasn’t a good brand. Unreal. Just unreal. Here’s to you, Massachusetts. Because I will likely end up there one day, in an attempt to visit the local grocery store.

In other news, the weekend promises to be both balmy and wintery. We’ve really reached a terrible point when the weather is diagnosed with bipolar disorder, haven’t we? Sad but true. Sandals on Saturday, coat/umbrella on Sunday. I love the Springtime.

(* Bye, bye, Blockbuster. I am now a happy member of Netflix. Woo hoo!)

Well.

The sun is shining. One weather quack got it right. Wow. Pretty interesting. I’m very happy about this. I’m very happy!! I’m still moving to London, though, because of the accents and the boots. And the whole blue wall plan for my apartment in Notting Hill. Anywho. Welcome back (for a bit, anyway), Mr. Sun.

In other news, I’ve joined the masses and plunked down some change for a GPS to place inside my vehicle. And there are very valid reasons for this particular purchase. Here come the bullets:

• Just last week, I took the wrong turn off the highway and ended up on an unplanned trip toward Baltimore. BALTIMORE.
• My penchant for getting lost seems to be growing. It’s out of control. These are places I’ve been to a million times. But, so it goes, I get creative and decide to take a parkway and not a highway, and I end up closing in on another state. It’s insane.
• I’ve printed enough Yahoo and Google and Rand McNally maps to take down a considerable section of the rainforest. And those maps? Are never correct. (There’s always a U-turn in those directions. Why? Why?)
• My poor mother is just like me. Or, I’m just like her. Actually, she may be worse. As a result, she and I will be sharing the thing.
• Speaking of Moms, on the way to see a show one evening, we drove in circles while the performance center waited for us over a bridge we couldn’t find. To this day, I don’t understand how we were finally able to get to the show.
• After a friend of mine had to bail me out of another jam (“where AM I?!??!”), I was calmly instructed to purchase a GPS. I obeyed.

Hopefully, it’ll work. Knowing me, though, we’ll see.

Welcome back, Mr. Sun!

A Foggy Day in Somewhere Town

Forget clouds. There is now FOG consuming the atmosphere. Fog. Fog! Needless to say, I’m on the verge of a scream. On the bright side (all sarcasm intended), perhaps this dreary, dank weather is preparing me for my middle-aged move to London, when I finally tire of this Yankee living. I have a feeling that the Brit accents and a blue-walled apartment in Notting Hill (along with a pair of red boots) will make things all better.

Sigh.

The weather quacks said something about the fog “burning off” and it becoming a partly cloudy day. In other words, we’re about to get hail. Because they never know what they’re talking about. Some of them, in between mindless, humorless banter, seem to even believe that they control the weather. “I may give you guys some sun today.” If that’s control, then we’re all really in trouble.

Signed,
Fed Up with Fog.

Pick Out Your Cloud

I can’t take it anymore. I really, really cannot. It’s Day 100 of cloudiness, and I think I’m seriously on the verge of insanity and mental breakdown (all in that order). Just this morning, as I was ruining my diet by cruising over to the drive-through at the local Burger King, I looked up at the gray sky and loudly questioned why it was doing this to me. When I turned to my left, the poor woman at the window was staring at me with wide eyes, likely wondering why this Girl was talking to herself. Needless to say, she accepted my money with a nervous smile and scared hands. Anyway, another day of this cloudiness will end up bad. I have a feeling that my breakdown will be swift and public. I just need the sun. Like the birds and flowers and all that. I need it.

John Denver:

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high

If I had a day that I could give you
I’d give to you a day just like today
If I had a song that I could sing for you
I’d sing a song to make you feel this way

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high

If I had a tale that I could tell you
I’d tell a tale sure to make you smile
If I had a wish that I could wish for you
I’d make a wish for sunshine all the while

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high
Sunshine almost all the time makes me high

I’m Well Aware of what’s Going on, Thank You.

Sadly, I’m one of those people. You know those people. They pretend to be entirely oblivious of what’s going on around them, feigning confusion, blinking innocently all the while. Oblivion is rare, though–I’m usually lucid and all too aware of what’s happening. In the end, though, I just really enjoy blending in. I like being invisible, carefully listening, not too obvious. Not sure why. Perhaps it’s because of the fantasy that one day, “Law and Order” types will show up and need my help. And yes, I will have seen everything.

I heard something quite interesting yesterday. First off, everyone needs validation. It keeps them going. Don’t care who you are – most normal people like hearing that they’re all right, that they matter in some way. My sis informed me that she met a former college professor the other day at a book reading. Anywho, according to her, he said that he actually read some of my work in the past. (Backstory: I didn’t take any classes with said professor, but I did take classes and subsequently became obsessed with his wonderful wife, who was/is a writer extraordinare in her own right and was/is one amaaazing teacher). I was like, wha? He read some of my work? Apparently, my professor showed him some of my stuff. Anyway, long, long story short, he told my sis to let me know that I should keep writing, and that he saw “light” in my writing.

I was a bit flabbergasted by that one. Light? Light? What a lovely thing to say, really. What a lovely, interesting thing to say. I was a bit moved by that one. In truth, I was positively in love with poetry and prose in those days, and maybe that came through in my work. I need to find that love again. I really do.

The countdown to the New Kids on the Block reunion tour begins today. From now on (well, I started this yesterday) until whenever they start showing up in an area near me, each post label will bear a hit song from NKOTB. And there are so many hits to choose from, believe you me.

Dreams really do come true. Sigh. They COME TRUE.