Orange

It’s his favorite color.

His favorite jacket is a hoodie.

His favorite cars are Jeeps and Audis.

His favorite kitchen ware is his knife set.

His favorite cake is Grammy’s German Chocolate.

His favorite friend is Sean, and his favorite family member is his mother.

His favorite liquor is Jameson Irish Whiskey, and his favorite dog is Jameson Irish Whiskey Porter, our Great Dane.

His favorite coffee cup can hold almost an entire pot, and it has Woody the Woodpecker on it.

His favorite food group is cream and coffee.

His favorite thing to shop for is clothes.

His favorite food to cook is green chili.

His favorite plants are cacti.

His favorite person is ME.

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In search of the perfect complement for this post.

I have to seek out the things I have starred to share with you.

I was going to put something mushy about love.

Instead, I’m giving you this. Landon will understand.

So, if no, then I apologize.

However, I must consider the other crap I put up here, and suddenly this story doesn’t seem so… crappy?

On Saturday, while lying around in bed at two o’clock in the afternoon, the Effing Mr. Pink Ears Floyd Kitty would NOT leave my closet alone.  We tried squirt bottles, throwing shoes, and well, also throwing the squirt bottle.

Nothing would work.  He was obsessively after something in the closet.

Landon mused, “Probably a mouse.”

Of course this is a dumb idea because A) we only have mice in the garage, B) there’s no food in the bedroom except cat food and well, that would sort of indicate cats… And C) Cats don’t let mice into their bedrooms!!!  Haven’t you ever seen Tom & Jerry?

Alas, it was a mouse.

I’m not afraid of mice.  I’m not afraid of spiders or snakes or other creepy crawlies.  Rodents are just… bird food.  So there’s no problem here, though I’m not particularly squeeing over the cat bringing me a live mouse present while I’m lying around in bed at two on a Saturday afternoon.

I get up to see if there really is a mouse.

I crouch down, looking.  I see something brown run across the back of my closet.  I relocate the dead computer parts that live in my closet burial ground.  The mouse launches itself within a foot of my FACE and I squeal in terror like a little girl.   We’re talking one of those screams that are often accompanied by the woman jumping on a chair and tucking her legs under her.  Big effing SQUEAL.

And then?  The cat became tired of the parade and decides he’s done hunting for the day while the mouse is plotting certain damnation for the humans in the room and Landon’s trying to coerce me back into bed.

*le sigh*

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The story ended when the effing Kitty cornered the mouse into a tiny vase that was under the bed.  Instead of allowing the cat to chew the mouse’s tail off, we collected said mouse and released him outside.

We live near a small reservoir.  There is ample wildlife in our area.  Coyotes, giant red fox, raccoons, snakes (probably even rattlers), and yes, mice.   I love where we live, and I don’t hate mice.  But, I’m pretty sure that both of the cats will be fired.  Especially Toby.  He was just lounging there watching the whole debacle.  FIRED!   Floyd might just be getting his verbal warning.  After all, he’s still a kitten and hasn’t had many years to practice.  And, to his credit, he was not  deterred when we were squirting him incessantly and throwing slippers at him before we realized he was on the clock.

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Today’s post of the day is dedicated to Lou’s mouse of a man in one of my favorite of his pieces yet!

Dear Colorado-based Amazon Associate:

We are writing from the Amazon Associates Program to inform you that the Colorado government recently enacted a law to impose sales tax regulations on online retailers. The regulations are burdensome and no other state has similar rules. The new regulations do not require online retailers to collect sales tax. Instead, they are clearly intended to increase the compliance burden to a point where online retailers will be induced to “voluntarily” collect Colorado sales tax — a course we won’t take.

We and many others strongly opposed this legislation, known as HB 10-1193, but it was enacted anyway. Regrettably, as a result of the new law, we have decided to stop advertising through Associates based in Colorado. We plan to continue to sell to Colorado residents, however, and will advertise through other channels, including through Associates based in other states.

There is a right way for Colorado to pursue its revenue goals, but this new law is a wrong way. As we repeatedly communicated to Colorado legislators, including those who sponsored and supported the new law, we are not opposed to collecting sales tax within a constitutionally-permissible system applied even-handedly. The US Supreme Court has defined what would be constitutional, and if Colorado would repeal the current law or follow the constitutional approach to collection, we would welcome the opportunity to reinstate Colorado-based Associates.

You may express your views of Colorado’s new law to members of the General Assembly and to Governor Ritter, who signed the bill.

Your Associates account has been closed as of March 8, 2010, and we will no longer pay advertising fees for customers you refer to Amazon.com after that date. Please be assured that all qualifying advertising fees earned prior to March 8, 2010, will be processed and paid in accordance with our regular payment schedule. Based on your account closure date of March 8, any final payments will be paid by May 31, 2010.

We have enjoyed working with you and other Colorado-based participants in the Amazon Associates Program, and wish you all the best in your future.
Best Regards,

The Amazon Associates Team

In the last few weeks, I have been experiencing these things at a quicker rate than usual.  I’m blaming it on my increased positive mood due to the approaching change of seasons.  While I have been trying to focus on reasons to love the winter, it is becoming increasingly obvious that spring time is only around the corner.

Evidence:

• It’s getting lighter longer after work.  Which means that I get to appreciate the majestic mountains on my drive home.  And they are truly amazing, especially while covered in white snow and flecked in blues.
• I awoke to birds chirping the other day.
• In the same vein, there is a woodpecker who is terribly chipper these days.
• Our grass is looking greener.  On OUR side of the fence.
• It’s warm enough to be outside without a hat lately.  This makes my hair so happy!!!  In addition to losing the hat, I am also feeling more comfortable wearing skirts.  Which means I also wear my high heel boots sometimes.  And I’ll be able to wear my other heels again, too.  I have to get into practice.  Wearing heels is hard work!  *grin*  And in turn, I have recently felt more attractive and therefore others have noticed and dished out more compliments.  It’s pretty awesome.  I’m like… a girl or something.

And without further ado, some of the things I really love that are happening lately:

• I went to the grocery store to purchase some chicken for a surprise dinner I was preparing for Landon.  I picked out the organic, skinless, boneless chicken breasts that were on sale for $8.  When I got to the self-check out, they rang up as $10.  I notified the attendant, and per their company policy, I was given the chicken for free.  Score!
• We went out last night with a few friends to our second choice hot spot.  While there, Landon ran into a long lost friend, and a few folks he knew and introduced me to at Dreamtime.  (I love the sorts of folks who go to Dreamtime.)  We chatted a bit, and have made dinner plans to hang out with them next weekend.  They have kids, we have kids, and they appear to be like-minded people.  I’m stoked!
• Also, last night, not only did I run into a long lost friend of my own, this find precipitated a two hour long conversation with my little brother.  We hadn’t spoken in… half a year.  Ecstatic doesn’t cover it.  I need to have him in my life and I’ve been devastated without him.
• I received a check in the mail from BlogHer, even though I quit using their ads when I came over to this new theme, six months ago.  Awesome!  This is the first dollar ever to come from this site.  Though I consider the Hay House publishers sending me books for free to review a financial gain, also, this was the first actual check.
• We may be looking forward to other streams of income here in the near future.  While I’m not holding my breath, I am pretty excited for how this appears to be going– as everything else in my life just seems to be falling in place lately.

Also, did I mention that it’s almost effing SPRING?!?!?!

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Today’s post of the day is inspired by the fact that I drank last night at said hot spot.

I’m just not a drinker.  I have to drink and get drunk approximately once or twice a year to remind me of why I do not drink. :)

Chai.  In the morning.  With pumpkin pie spice sprinkled on top.  Eff Yes!
I make it from tea leaves — not from a box.  Not from a Starbucks.  See how green I can be?  And frugal?

New girlfriends.  Seriously, girlfriends are often difficult to come by.  At my age, every woman is finally comfortable being who they are, and likely comfortable with their major malfunction(s).  While I’m mostly comfortable with most gals’ major malfunctions (I have them myself), it often leads to whine sessions and a whole lot of complaining.  I love it when I discover a new girlfriend who is problem-solving-oriented and who is easy to talk with.  And special other current girlfriends, too.  They’re just as awesome as if not more effing awesome than new girlfriends.

Sleep.  Especially when it happens solidly throughout the entire night without interruptions from the effing kitty or the emm-effing dog.

Money.  I know, I’m going to hell for this one (amongst other reasons).  But I do *love* money.  It’s not that it alone makes me happy.  But try not effing having it for a while and then get enough to pay your bills, buy you groceries, and fix a few key money-oriented problems, and boy oh boy does it become a nicety.

Upcoming visits from a soul mate from across the country.  I am so, SO effing giddy.  Now I must thoroughly clean the house.  *shudder*

Getting paid in books to review books.  This is the coolest effing thing I’ve done with this blog yet.  I love imagining the opportunities that are ahead of me in similar veins.

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And I effing love these two pictures:

Beauty in Life

Forever & Always

When it is not written, there is no end.  When it is not written, there are no rules, and only possibilities.

Yet, when you have possibilities, there is no fruition until I begin to weave a story that you might understand.  That you might hear.  That you might imagine with the picture book in your mind.

I love the picture book.  It tells of the most magnificent stories.

Until I begin to tell you these stories, I alone get to observe them.  I alone get to pick and choose my own adventures.

Maybe I should keep them to myself.

But how sad is it to have never loved!

Some folks run from love to avoid experiencing the pain that accompanies love’s end.  I could not deny you this love.  This story.

So, I must share it.

I must unwind the ball of thread like the yarn I will tell you.

I must unwrap it as we go along.  I don’t have to know myself what happens in the middle of my ball.

__

There are witches.   Three witches by the names of Eloise, Esther, and Sarah.

Two of these witches are green-faced and ugly.

One of them has the beauty and charm of the most lovely ladies of the world.

Naturally, the two ugly witches are green with envy.

Naturally, the beautiful witch is demure and as sweet as honey.

__

Ah, hell.  I cannot write about fairy tales.  I cannot write about witches, even though I know that somehow those two uglies would amuse me.  I want them to eat frog heads.  And to cackle like crows.   I want them to tease the poor sweet Sarah to the point of tears.  Only because I have to run screaming from cliche.

But… isn’t that cliche, too?  To take the side of the ugly, mean, green witches?

God, that’s my problem.  Cli-fucking-ches.  What words are there that come from my brain that are not the same as anything else?  So much shit is out there in the world of words.  So much mindless drivel, so little meaningfulness.

What can I offer that is unique?

__

Eloise and Esther were on their hands and knees in damp dirt in the garden.  They were plucking slugs and tomato worms from their plants, and dropping them with ‘tink,’ ‘tink,’ ‘tinks’ into a glass bowl on the ground next to them. They knew that they were doing what was best for their environment.  Not only were they saving the luscious tomatoes from an untimely demise, but they were utilizing the green-scented stalks of the tomato plant to catch protein-filled worms for dinner tonight.

The bright worms were always the tastiest.

__

Oy.  I just don’t know.  Honestly, it’s at times like these that I want to throw my arms up in the air and fling my hopes and dreams away from me.  I don’t have any desire to write some stupid witch fiction.  I mean, I thought about it.  About an hour ago.  I was listening to an audio book about witches and I thought to myself, “Self,” (that’s what I call myself), “I could do so much better than that.  I can create imagery.  I can make the letters sing.

And then I go to paste that song onto my digital canvas, and I’m bored.

Bored out of my mind.

__

Sarah was in the kitchen, humming a lovely tune to herself while her sisters were out gathering dinner from the garden.  She hummed a ditty while she rinsed soap from the dishes, delicately setting them on the towel that was laid out on the counter top.  When the dishes were rinsed, she gingerly dried them, still humming, but once every few moments bursting out a word of the song.

“LooooooOOoove with me,” she sang out but immediately and with a flush of red across her satin cheeks, reverted right back to humming.  Sometimes she just got a little carried away with herself like that.

__

I have enough people-watching-experience that I certainly can tell you what a person’s motivation is.  I can tell you in words what they’re thinking and why they move the way they do.  Those aren’t the difficult parts.  The difficult parts is making the characters do things that are actually worthy of reading about.  I mean, is there an actual story line that is so unique and simultaneously interesting that it could hold my attention for longer than a few pages?

Doubtful.  For sure.

__

Lifting themselves up off the ground, Eloise and Esther cackled at each other as they shamelessly tossed spiders into each other’s hair.  Eloise, having picked herself up first, looked down at the mud in her palms and nonchalantly held them behind her back. Esther, losing her balance and teetering backwards as though she might fall down on her rump, was gruffly caught by Eloise with both hands on her backside.

Eloise cackled even louder as Esther smiled feebly, and stepped in front of her beyond the garden gates, with two clear muddy handprints on the whites of her trouser pants.

__

Trouser pants?  Really!?

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With equal oddity, I must share with you this dastardly invention.

A blanket with sleeves.  Not your ordinary Snuggie.

For so many years (all of them), I have tried to hide it.   In the last five years, I began admitting it.  But admission in the verbal form makes no concessions for behaving like a jealous person.  Behavior is different from emotion.  Obviously.

It’s rather amusing to recall my honey saying, “No, you simply can’t be a jealous person!  You don’t act like it!”

I am more jealous than a ravenous, caged beast watching a fairy eat a pancake just beyond its reach.

That’s really damn jealous, people.

I envy women I’ve never met for the attention they get from men I’ll never speak with.   I envy women who haven’t yet thought of looking at my guy sideways.  I want to make violent actions towards people who want to steal from me what’s rightfully mine.

The crazy has entered the building.

But, but, BUT!  The thing is that I never act upon any of these emotions.  Hell, I hardly even allow anyone else to even guess I’m feeling that way.  Of course if the world was filled with people who acted upon their thoughts, it would be a considerably different world.  Maybe.

At the very least if *I* acted upon my thoughts, *I* would be a different person.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you what I’m thinking.  Don’t even bother to ask.  *grin*

The point is… level folks are judged such based upon behavior.   For those of us who have with mastery learned to control our behaviors beyond our crazy thoughts… well, you’ll never know any different.

Just goes to show you, though, that eventually there could reach a point within me where the crazy creeps out.

Consider this your warning.

=)

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Somehow this Dyke Style Update suits my post of the day perfectly.

I’m not really even sure how, but I am sure of it.

When I received this book in the mail… let me just say it made me giddy like a little girl.   Hay House (the publishing company that sent it to me), I love you.  No, really.

Wayne Dyer happens to be my hands down favorite in the world of pop psychology, motivational speaking, and spiritual training.  As far as I’m concerned, he’s the next spiritual teacher of his age, and his charismatic style makes it easy to listen to him.

His book, which is a companion book to his latest movie, The Shift, does not fail to meet my expectations.  Actually, it exceeds it by far.  True to his style, he puts difficult concepts into a language that just about any schmoe can understand.  Yet… this book was extremely difficult for me to get through.

Let me explain…

This book is written on a level of spiritual depth that makes it challenging to really sink my teeth into during a brief amount of time.  This is the sort of book that I believe you should sit down with maybe once a week.  Throughout your week you can consider what he has presented in a very small portion of the book.   Essentially maybe you should use this as a workbook to deeper spiritual satisfaction.  It’s not the type of book you read to escape reality.  Instead, it is a book you would use as the Lutherans use Luther’s catechism.  It’s a companion book for enlightenment.  For detachment.  For greater spiritual understanding and meaning.

But what is it all about?  Essentially, the content is designed to make you aware of the shift from egoism to allowing God or The Universe or Tao to move you.

The question I had while reading it was… What religion does this qualify as?  There are aspects of Science of Mind, Taoism, and metaphysics.  I’m not sure what that religion would be, but I can assure you that it’s RIGHT up my alley.

There are a handful of special people with whom I’d like to share this book.  I wish I had five or ten more copies that I could distribute to my friends.  Alas, since I don’t, I’ll have to just give you a link for you to purchase it directly from the publisher.

Red

A little girl presses her face against the glass of the candy shop window.   She sucks in the cold air and exhales warm breath against the cold pane.   It fogs, just as it did yesterday.

She spies the goodies inside.

Hard candies, lollipops, cotton candy, strings of candies that look like jewelry…

There are jars stacked on shelves.  Round shelves, square shelves.  Round jars, tall jars, square jars, jars that look like fish bowls, jars that are tall and cylindrical like rocket ships, glass bowls… all filled with rainbow-colored sweet treats that call to her like whispers in dreams.

She rolls her weight from left foot to right.  Left to right.  Left to right.

It slowly becomes a little dance, you see.  A magic candy-attracting dance.  A dance of worship and of longing, and there is no choreographer, only a little girl whose nose draws an arc in her fog as she tips from side to side, staring at the sweets inside the candy shop.

Soon, the rhythm of her dance overtakes her.  Left to right.  Left to right.  Turn her cheek and glide it across the smooth, cold hard that is the glass.

Left to right.  Left to right.  And swirl!

She twirls like the swirls in the red and white lollipop in the front display.

She dips like the pretzels covered in chocolate and rainbow sprinkles.  She twists like the long wooden sticks of purple rock candy.  She floats like the cottony clouds of pink cotton candy.

The little girl is a ballet dancer, and the sidewalk is her stage.   She pirouettes for pirouettes and pliés for jelly beans.  And when the dance is finally done, she turns to face the street and falls exhausted–but grinning– against the window.

Her cheeks hold the red rouge from the cold and the sweet exertion.

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This post inspired by this special ballerina.

Things I have been considering:

• Should I *want* to post every day?  Does it increase my bloggy value?
• Should I create more weekly categories?
  • I have my book reviews every Thursday, and have written a review for a new book every Thursday until the middle of April.  Maybe I should make book reviews happen twice a week?  Maybe I should keep the reviews as they are?
  • Maybe I should write Fiction Fridays or Spirit Sundays?  Oy.  I don’t know.
• What are the ramifications if I don’t post every day?  I’ve been doing it since October, and what little feedback I have had has been opposing: You post too much/ You are building your following, don’t stop.
• I can write this much.  I can write more. I can write until my fingers fall off and my eyeballs roll out of my head and onto the floor.
• Does posting daily give me unspoken permission to post crap?
• Wait.  Is *this* post crap?  Ah, hell.

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In hopes of redeeming myself, I will give you a really good post of the day:

Wasps who enslave spiders are cool, mkay?