Thursday, October 27, 2011

go cardinals.

well, i guess it's time.

time to force out some emotion and beat this b. of a writers' block.

really friends, it's been the worst ever. it's lingered like a bad stench. taunted and teased like that pudgy-almost-albino-kid in my fourth grade class. stuck around like a nasty little sickness.

ew. woof.

kind of like that time i got the bird flu. yes, nasty.

like crawling across the bathroom floor, puking into the toilet every fifteen minutes. spending three days living on my disgusting, shady-brown-polyester-blend-sofa in my provo apartment.

can you say i-f-f-y? (i mean honestly, who even knows what has gone down on p-town apartment seating).

watching he's just not that into you over twelve times just because you don't have cable and can't muster up the strength to make it to the redbox.

finding yourself thinking about how much you really do hate scarlett johansson.

come on boys. really?

she's just a little too slutty for my good taste.

yes, this writers' block truly tried to get the best of me. but don't worry, because i'm beating it down with a metaphorical baseball bat as we speak (and i'm currently watching the cardinals vs. rangers that was the first metaphorical object that came to mind.)

honestly, this is the first time ever in the history of my life that i have been interested in the world series.

i grew up a padres fan. san diego represent.

but never really cared.

just like their hat really. padres and mariners. both have that worn navy blue look going on. the sexiest hats of all the hats.

and yet, here i am. loving this baseball game. eating it up. with lines from 'it takes two' running through my head.

m.k. and a. at their finest.
i know, i know. it's gotta' be that can't eat, can't-sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, world series kinda stuff....right?
always liked that saying.

kinda charming in its own right. and not only because it was said by my two favorite-full-house-peeps. other than uncle-j-sexy. of course.

but also because it implies that love should be something whimsical. something that’s once in a life-time. something that will make you stand up and scream like a winning shot. or the much needed home run.

and though i really only agree with it sixty-percent of the time...

not because i am above believing that things like love and romance can be that 'world series' kind-of-mind-blowing, but simply because every-now-and-then i find myself doubting that a harsh world like ours can harvest such whimsicality.

but i do believe. and just like most of humanity, it is what i want.

that can’t-eat, can’t-sleep kinda love.

that sweaty-mess-want-to-impress-kind-of romance. so many of us, on our knees, asking god for a little bit of that magic. a little bit of that knowing you never want to be separated from that person. forever and onward.

nice, eh?

kind of makes me wish i could write songs or something. too bad my extent of song writing goes back to my fourth grade band 'sae girl'.

you heard me.

'sae girl'. like say girl. but 'sae girl' (we just wanted to be different. don't judge.)

we sang acoustically. with optional banging on trash cans, plucking at the violin, and a possible tambourine.

the critics called us 'a colorful blend of the dixie chic's southern hospitality and the raw sexual appeal of the spice girls topped off with the kick-a rhyming abilities of shania twain'.

i know, right.

we're legend around boise, id.

shame that had to die. really.

that. and my life-long dream of dating jonathan taylor thomas. both sad dreams to let go of.

dreams that were eventually replaced by new dreams.

and then once those died, replaced by even newer dreams. and i must say, after twenty three years of dreaming up my future and deciding the woman that i am going to be...

i can honestly look at my life right now. and smile.

really, truly smile.

and as long as i look past the fact that i have a basket of laundry waiting to do and a coffee table covered in books that i have no room for...and a faux hard wood floor that seriously needs a good scrub down.

i'm gonna keep smiling.

because i'm so undeserving of how ridiculously blessed i am.

and that--right there--is a reason to stand-up and cheer.

oh yeah, and the fact that the cardinals just won the world series :).

Friday, October 14, 2011

i'm going away for a week.

....time to find ourselves again.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

the birthday wishlist.

okay, so. my birthday is next week.
yes sir.
another year older and wiser--at least we hope.
and everyone has been kindly and thoughtfully inquiring as to what i would like...
sweethearts. yes, sweethearts you are.
but sadly, i haven't really had any answer for them.
so. i have created this small-little-list of birthday wishes to share.

for starters, the fireplace (pictured above) and insane artwork
would make me one happy, happy girl.
no gift receipt needed. guaranteed i won't be returning that dreamboat.

and then there is this living space.
this artwork. the long window sweet. retro furnishings
and sassy rug.

i'd unwrap this in a heartbeat.

next up on the birthday wishlist.
the kitchen of my dreams.
and honestly, i don't have enough charming words in my vocabulary to do this space justice.

if this doesn't come around for my birthday
....i may just have to ask santa.

still need more ideas?
okay, how about the bedroom that pwns all other bedrooms?
come to keen. please.
this combo of texture, patterns, color and reclaimed
wood kinda makes me want to run around in circles giggling.

no, not kidding.

and if you're not liking any of those ideas.
how about this darling chalkboard-wall bedroom for my future son...
perfect, eh?
i think so too.

and for those of you not up for the extremely detailed and expensive
home decor gift options....

i'll take a pair of these fabulous blur zipper ankle boots.
definitely wouldn't throw these beauties out on a cold night.

and of course, we could just go for this whole outfit.
that i am very much in love with.
i know, right?

okay, and for those of you who are not in the market to buy me
expensive furnishings or five hundred dollar shoes....

show up to my door with a kneaders chocolate chip cookie.
yup, it does the trick.