Overkill

Tilex Soap Scum Remover now kills the flu virus. It says so right on the label. When I read that I thought, "Do I really need you to kill the flu? I mean, has anyone ever actually contracted this disease from her shower? Athelete's foot...maybe. But, the flu?"

Am I the only one who isn't even the slightest bit worried about catching a fever and chills from her grout?

Check

I had the day off yesterday and so made myself a to do list. In between clean shower and sweep backyard, I wrote, get a grip. I wrote it as if it were a task to be accomplished, a chore to be done. Then, I looked over my list, realized I wasn't actually in the mood to do any of that cleaning shit, and headed to the bookstore instead.

I bought Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird. I wasn't looking for a book about writing. I was looking for some Anne. Anne is the kind of woman who would understand why I wrote that list...and why I walked away from it. She wouldn't ask why I had to buy a book, a bag of chips, and some guacamole and spend the afternoon sitting on a bench, spilling avocado on my shirt, growing new freckles (or, as is more likely with my genes, basal cell carcinomas) in the afternoon sun.

As I did just that, I overhead two young 20-somethings discussing what their lives would be like when they were 30. These two had all sorts of grand plans. They were going to be established in their careers, well into their first marriages, having their oldest of three children...

Oddly enough, neither of them said, "When I am 30, I'm going to make elaborate to do lists. They will say things like, chill the fuck out, lighten up, and get over yourself. And then, I'm going to spend whole Saturdays sitting in the sun, spilling guacamole on a white tee shirt, and working towards going home to put a check mark next to get a grip."

Dive, I am still happy

Very happy. When he walks into the room, I still squeal on the inside. Every single time.

But, I'm trying not to squeeze this too tightly, resisting the urge to act like an 8 year old boy who just caught a frog.

I am acutely aware of the fact that sometimes (oftentimes...hell, more times than not) even good things don't last forever. While I'd love for this relationship to have the spirit of a lightning bug with the longevity of a tortoise, I hope I will have the grace and maturity to recount this as a good chapter, no matter its length.

Unfortunately, in my experience, when you really like someone, grace and maturity are the first things to go...

Yellow

So then I took my turn

Oh what a thing to have done

And it was all yellow

I'm seeing someone. I'm not sure where this is going. I approach every day with a healthy dose of cynicism and prayer. I realize that makes me sound bitter and desperate; but, in fact, it doesn't really feel that way.

It feels...all yellow.

In spite of all me...or maybe even because of it.

It's been so long since I've been here, spammers are now leaving more comments than readers. It's like the thuggish ruggish have taken over this abandoned lot to sell drugs--Cialis, in particular.