Real Soon

I know that on an evening real soon, I'm going to bake an apple pie in Arizona with the door to the outside open and a glass of white wine in my hand and my parents doing their thing around.  I know this and I can not wait for this.

Share Sharing

A couple of things happened on my way to work on Friday morning.  Now it's a Wednesday and I still remember both, so clearly they were share worthy.   

Number one being I realized a song I really quite enjoy that goes something like this, "Story of my lifeeeeee...something something...frozennnnn...something...Story of my lifeeeee..." is from One Direction.  One Direction!  As in a boy band.  The realization of this had me wondering if it meant I was so out of cool there isn't a redemption hope or if it meant boy bands are back.  I think the fact I was a teenager during the Backstreet Boys and N*Sync days answers both of those questions.  I'm not cool nor will boy bands probably ever be back, if they were ever even a real thing to begin with.  Uffda that was a lot of thinking for a song that goes something like this..."Story of my lifeeeeee...something something...frozennnnn...something...Story of my lifeeeee..."

Number two being I kept thinking about a zit I popped the night before.  It was like truly, the perfect zit.  I wish all zits were like that and I'd even go so far as to say I'd like to order up one of that variety approximately two times a month as it quenches a picking fever in me.  It grew right between my upper lip and my lower nose in the volcano style.  Big and deep.  So right away, I thought oh this will be one of those ridiculous ones which hurt like hell but never actually do anything and then I will pick at it and it will scab and be there for a solid thirteen days.  But then!  On that fateful evening, I thought just for the heck of it I'd try to give it a pop.  And POP.  It popped!  Like a dream.  If you are a zit popper and fellow pick fever-er, you will know what I mean right now.  It made the squeak noise and was a ball of fire hitting the mirror.  The best part was the squeak.  No traces left behind.  And then this morning, poof.  It was gone like .  The perfect zit!  Ever since, I've been a bit obsessive thinking about it.  

Sometimes I think why do I write this stuff down.  And then mostly I think because I like to.  Who doesn't want to hear about boy bands and perfect zits?

And seriously, I want another one of those squeakers soon!  I'm sick.  Really.  Plus I have really big hair and like to smell the heads of babies.     

A Rut Fix

Eyes closed in a squint, shoulders raised, cheeks up, laughing feels so good.  So good.  Physically something happens I swear and mentally too, of course.  

Every once in awhile I will get stuck in a couple of days without laughter through my pores, a rut so to speak.  A routine rut more specifically, it's a floating through the motions of the every day with just that, the emotions of oh this is just another every day.  Usually during those days, I feel different as if something is off kilter, askew.  Then, something pee your pants style will happen and the laughing comes back and I'm all squeeze hugging it and yelling where have you been?!  That's what has been missing!  

Find some things to laugh about.  I must always find some things to laugh about.  My heart is much happier with eyes closed in a squint, shoulders raised, cheeks up...I just know it.

Also this article.  Is so spot on.  I am giving up saying I'm busy for Lent.  I don't really do the entire give up for Lent thing, so really I'm just trying to give it up.  If you catch me saying I'm busy, give me one swift slap on the cheek and then tell me to laugh instead.

One last PS and it's for winter.

Dear Winter,
Please leave.  Thank you.  Your long past your welcome stay is causing me to do things like take pictures of raspberries with the sunlight as a backdrop to grasp at some form of spring.  The sunlight was through the window of course because of you.  You winter you.
Sincerely, 
Me