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31 Days of Shelfies

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My project this October is going to be 31 Days of Shelfies. A shelfie, as defined by MacMillan Dictionary, is  “a picture which is taken, usually by a smartphone or a similar device of somebody with a bookshelf or bookshelves behind them,” or just a picture taken of bookshelves. I am going to take broader liberties and define shelfie as “any picture I take that has a shelf in it.”

Don’t worry – it’s not just going to be shelves. Not that there would be anything wrong with that.

The way I usually put together a blog post is to write the post and then find or take a picture to complement the post. This month, I am practicing the reverse. I am writing posts from photo prompts. Picture-taking (and the visual arts in general) don’t come naturally to me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t improve what tiny skills I have. This month, I am going to practice taking better pictures and noticing what makes each picture better. This month, my content will be at the mercy of my pictures.

These photos (and their subsequent posts…ideally) will fall into four basic categories:

  1. A bookshelf + me. I thought of doing just 31 days of selfies, but I couldn’t get excited about it. I don’t really understand selfies. I mean, I support other people’s choice to take them for whatever reason they want to do so. But for myself, I’m usually left thinking, “Why?”  Unless there’s something new that I’m doing with my hair or something I’m wearing, I look pretty much the same as I did the last time I took a picture. People know what I look like. They don’t need a daily selfie from me, and I don’t require it for myself. But myself plus a bookshelf? I can make that interesting.
  2. A bookshelf by itself. Who knows where this will lead? I anticipate that I will be writing book reviews and telling stories about specific books that have meant something special to me.
  3. Friday five – a stack of five different books each Friday that I have read or am reading and why I recommend them.
  4. Non-book shelves. Because books – while wildly important – are not the only things in life. On the weekends, I will be showing other shelves to remind myself to take my nose out of the books every once in a while.

I hope you enjoy it!

Master list of posts:

  1. Master page (this one)
  2. Friday Five: Five Favorite Stories From Childhood
  3. Cape Cod Shelf
  4. Warmth and Well-Being
  5. Banned Books
  6. Sweet Valley High
  7. The L Shelves
  8.  My Books
  9.  Friday Five: Five Books on Moving
  10. Fandom Friends
  11.  In Defense of TV
  12. Cooking for One
  13. Manners!
  14. Have Food, Will Travel
  15. Happy Hour
  16. Friday Five – Five Favorite Food Writers
  17. Homebody
  18. (break)
  19. Hanging out with Allende
  20. Virtual Shelfie
  21. Schooling
  22. For the Love of Libraries
  23. Friday Five – Five Voices that Shaped Me
  24. Memories and Inspiration
  25. Reformation Sunday
  26. Friends of the Library – Fort Worth
  27. Read This Next
  28. The Play’s the Thing
  29. Language
  30. Friday Five – Five Books That Have Changed Me
  31. Acknowledgements

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I have noticed my attitude about my neighborhood changing lately. And I am grateful.

Yes, it’s loud. Yes, that’s annoying.

Yes, it gets the short end of the stick (I’m looking at you, impending DME Substation. By “Other sites…weren’t viable,” they do seem to mean, “Other neighborhoods would have cost too much money to demolish. Let’s screw the low-income people.” Or at least that’s how it looks.)

It’s also multicultural. The loud music that vibrates my windows? I never know what it’s going to be. It could be country or bachata or rap. All of these things (and everything in between) ring through my neighborhood on a daily basis. And I think I’m the minority in my apartment building (numerically speaking, at least. The socio-cultural essence of minority status has little to do with the numbers).

It’s also within walking distance from my main job. That’s pretty convenient, even if I never, ever walk. Because Texas. And construction.

I dream of having a house with a yard so I can garden and have a grill. I would love to have room for a piano (and also a home with a ground floor on which to put it). I covet other people’s pantries and kitchens. But I have everything I need in my little apartment, and lately, I have found it charming.

So I’m going to stop procrastinating when it comes to things like putting up the towel rack in the bathroom and the coat rack by the door. I’m going to sweep off her stoop and buy her a new doormat. I am going to buy frames and hang more pictures. For the foreseeable future, I’m going to make my apartment my home.

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Every year, June tries to make me love summer. It doesn’t succeed, but it’s persistent in its effort. This summer it almost had me.

I mean – just look at it –

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June, you gorgeous thing.

Of course, now the temperatures are climbing, and I’m in a constant state of being a snack for bugs, so any potential goodwill I had toward summer is now out the window. But June tried. Oh, it tried!

I started the month off at my parents’ farm. I originally planned the trip to help with their planters, but they had already finished the ones they are going to put out this year by the time I got there. So I helped them watch TV and eat a lot of food. I am very helpful in both those regards. It was such a relaxing week.

I saw two movies in the theater this month. Of course, I had to go see Pitch Perfect 2. It was pretty funny. Before I went to see it, my friend Kim said, “I just want to say two words – We Belong. Best part.” It really was. I laughed and laughed. I also went to see Spy. It was hilarious, but that’s not even the thing I liked most about it. When I read that Melissa McCarthy was cast as an agent, I expected the movie to make her out to be this bumbling, lovable character who succeeds despite her incompetence. But no. She kicked ass. They specifically cast someone who doesn’t fit the physical stereotype of the role and then make her awesome at it. Also, Jason Statham is adorable and funny. Favorite thing I’ve seen in a theater in a long time.

It has been a roller coaster of a news month. Between the police incident in McKinney and the shooting in Charleston and all consenting adults actually being able to marry the consenting adult of their choice in all 50 states and black churches burning…whew.  I really have to get a computer at home again, because my poor little phone just can’t keep up. I’m going to write more about this tomorrow, but this month, I’m really into my church. The way they have brought these stories to the foreground of our discussions and have not shied away from the parts that make us uneasy and constantly ask what work we have to do – I just love it there.

Another wonderful thing that happened this month is a little cherub named Savvy turned three:

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She started out pretty subdued at her party, but before long, she was a little burst of joy:

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I just love that giggle.

I read so much this month. Most of the things I read has some sort of justice theme running through them, which seems fitting. My favorite novels were Dreams of Gods and Monsters by Laini Taylor (AMAZING end to this trilogy) and Peaches for Father Francis by Joanne Harris. I also bathed in the poetry of Nayyirah Waheed – Salt was my favorite collection.

My dad and I bond over The Chew, so I took a couple of Carla Hall’s cookbooks with me when I visited. I liked Cooking with Love, but I liked Carla’s Comfort Foods better. I blame her for my newfound obsession with tarragon (particularly in a lemon cream sauce). And if I ever meet her, I’m going to thank her for teaching me what no one else in my life has before – how to get perfect rice by baking it. Did any of you know how to do this and just not tell me? It’s so simple, and it makes so much sense (basically, bring water and rice to a boil and then cover it and put it in a 350-degree oven to steam). How have I lived this long and not known this?!

You can see more of what I’ve read this month (and this year, for that matter) at my Goodreads page.

My favorite thing about this June is that it has been infused with dance.

I read Twyla Tharp’s The Creative Habit, and seventeen pages of notes later, all these stories of dance have kicked my writing life back into gear. I am going to be processing it for a long time.

As always, I am loving So You Think You Can DanceI haven’t made it through all the auditions yet, because I keep rewatching the ones I like. I get so excited for them when they get that ticket to Vegas!

And I don’t know if you heard me squealing with delight all the way from where you are, but Misty Copeland, one of my favorite dancers of all time, became the first black female principal dancer of the American Ballet Theater.

This June made a beautiful case for summer.


I’m linking up with Leigh Kramer – come join us and tell us what your June was like!

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Well, hello! I am coming to you halfway through my decadent two weeks off from work. I’m actually sitting in the office now, but I am not above crawling under the desk if I see someone peer in.

(Just kidding, Housing. I’ll go see what they want and direct them accordingly.)

Unpopular opinion of the month: I’m totally into this rain. Yes, it has mosquito-ed up the joint, and it has been dangerous in places. It was actually flooding so much that my mom called the Thursday before Mother’s Day and said, “Don’t come home this weekend. We’re flooded in.” I do hate when my plans are thwarted, but I love the rain. I’m going to be sad to see it go, for it will be replaced by a heat that rivals the pit of Hell.

May is always a weird month.

The first part of the month is crazy  – last two weeks of school, closing down the building, etc. Our hall won Hall of the Year. I’m so excited for them. They worked so hard; I’m glad it was recognized. I also won an award at the final staff meeting – Best Sarcasm. Heh. They know me well. We also decorated mason jars. Mine became a vase:

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The last half of the month? Awesome and easy. We got everything filed away last week, trained for summer, and made the summer schedule. Then I got to hang out with some Story Sisters and drink wine with Michelle.

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This week? Staycation. Happy. I have made four (four!) trips to the recycling bins. I feel very productive. Also, I have not gotten out of bed earlier than 9:00 any day this week.

I have read more than usual this month. My favorites were Wicked by Gregory Maguire (I know – it’s about time) and Citizen by Claudia Rankine (READ IT). Goodreads keeps reminding me that I’m 19 books behind schedule, but what Goodreads doesn’t know is that it’s summer now, and summer is my big reading season. Prepare to be amazed, Goodreads.

Well, I’m off for another week. I might peck out a post on my cell phone, but I make no promises.

I’m linking up with Leigh Kramer. Come tell us what you’re into!

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I am renewing my lease today for another year at my apartment. My tiny apartment in the crowded neighborhood with terrible parking. I thought I would be out of there by now. I’m not sure that I planned to make that happen; it was just a meandering thought.

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(It looked so huge…when it was empty)

So here I am again, facing another year in a space that makes having people over particularly challenging.

When I had been in the apartment about a year, a friend who used to come to all my parties said, “You haven’t had a party in a while. When’s the next one?” And I didn’t have an answer. It didn’t seem like a big deal to invite 15 people over when I had a big kitchen and an extra bedroom for books and television. But with the office and the kitchen overflow and the living room all crammed into one room, we start tripping over one another when there are just six guests. There were only four of us Sunday night, and I still had to hop up on the couch at one point to let someone pass by.

The thought of the cookie party where at one point we had forty-something people present makes me want to crawl under the table and hide.

I am not willing to go another year without a party, though, so I’ve been thinking – what if the parties were all-day, come-and-go affairs instead of events with a beginning, middle, and end?

For example, when Maggie and I had Pie Weekend, we told people to come over any time. Sure, there were times that were busier than others, but we got to host small groups of people throughout the weekend, and it was fun. As an added bonus, people just ate whatever we had available at the time they visited (and we literally baked pies all weekend), so the pressure of having enough was off. Having enough was not a problem.

I’ve already started brainstorming the types of parties I would like to have:

  • Hemingway Day – Held on or around July 21 (Hemingway’s birthday), the menu would be simple but good (like his sentences) and laden with alcohol (like…well…Hemingway).
  • St. Patrick’s Day – A day of Irish food and drink, but really just an excuse to start my birthday celebration a day early.
  • Cookie Weekend – Some weekend in early-to-mid-December, combining my favorite things about cookie party (dress up, bring your own tin, and for the love of all that is holy take these cookies!) with my favorite things about pie weekend (communal baking and drinking).
  • Write-ins – Bring your work in progress, whether it’s a story, poem, art piece, etc., and spend some time on it, drinking good coffee or tea and eating delicious things while you work.

So we will see what this next year brings. It could be a failure. But it could be wonderful.

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Grieving injustice. Fighting the patriarchy. Talking to the kids about issues, ideas, and intersectionality.

You know – the usual.

Another April down. That’s a relief. I gave it the good college try with the April Love Instagram challenge, but I have missed the last week or so. I sure do have a lot of pictures of blankets on my Instagram. My MeMaw would be so proud.

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Words

It was a slow reading month but a good writing month. I finished the books for two of my three book clubs – Nora Webster and Unbroken – and I read Tara Owens’s Embracing the Body and Lauren Winner’s Mudhouse SabbathI enjoyed them all, especially the latter two. I wrote almost 35,000 words on Feast, which was not as many as I wanted, but I’m satisfied and still on schedule to finish in May!

Part of the reason that I wrote more slowly than planned is that I am at the stage of writing where I usually start getting better ideas for titles, which is to say that I’m having a lot more fun with it. What started as simply “Feast” has finally taken on its personality. I am currently sitting at “From Fret to Feast: Entertaining for the Socially Awkward.”

I’ve hosted a couple of people for my Invitation to the Table series, and I would love to host more. Submissions are still open!

Wellness

This week has been consumed with Nepal and Baltimore. There is so much &%^#%@ in the world. I am grieved and angry and anxious and restless, and so is my body. I need to find a way to engage and listen and process and still be able to sleep and keep food down. Haven’t done that very well this month.

Watching

The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. Hilarious. And awful. But awesome. I’m not sure how I would feel about it if I had escaped from a cult myself. But I watched the whole season in one sitting.

I have also enjoyed the Felines of New York. As a fan of Humans of New York and cat pictures, I am surprised that I didn’t think of this first.

And last, but certainly not least, there’s this weird thing. I’m not saying that I would actually text a goat picture to someone. Nor am I suggesting that anyone else do such a ridiculous thing. But if I were to get a message with a goat picture and a caption that said something like “Have a goat day,” I would not be sad about it.

Please don’t text me goat pictures. It would be funny the first time (okay – the first ten times. I really do enjoy goats.). But I can see it going into overkill very quickly.

I’m linking up with Leigh Kramer. Join us and tell us what you are into this month!

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Well, it’s here. Spring. My nemesis. And I feel bad talking about how much I despise it, because:

1) People are so happy, and while none of them cared to spare my feelings when they were endlessly (soul-crushingly, tediously) whining about my beautiful winter, I just can’t bring myself to do the same (most of the time, that is, because clearly, I’m having no problem doing so right now).

2) I literally feel bad. Spring brings out all my allergies, so working up a nice rant uses too much energy – energy better spent trying to breathe and stop itching.

I have the good drugs, though, so at least there’s that.

And at least it’s not summer. Yet.

But rather than focus on what I’m not into, let’s talk about what I am into.

My favorite thing I did this month was turn 40.

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The weather was nice (and by “nice,” I do mean rainy, overcast, and mid-50s), so that was my birthday present from Jesus. We tried out a new breakfast place – Crickles and Co. – and it was amazing. Everyone basically purred through the whole meal (the biscuits – omg, get the biscuits!). After a very leisurely breakfast, a few of us went to Barnes and Noble and browsed for a while.  Then I went home and spent the afternoon my favorite way – reading and napping. I woke up refreshed and ready for my birthday dinner at Greenhouse. Then we went to my sister and brother-in-law’s house for cake and coffee. The cake was coconut and pineapple, and the coffee was strong. And Bon Jovi’s Livin’ on a Prayer came on the music mix right as we were about to cut the cake, so they sang the chorus instead of the traditional happy birthday song. Tammy’s explanation: “It fits. You’re halfway there. Halfway to death,” which was hilarious and pretty much my favorite thing anyone said all day. We then watched The Whole Nine Yards while everyone recovered from/embraced their food coma.

It was a great day.

What made it even more enjoyable is that I didn’t worry about the planning. Rather than try to make it this huge event, I picked a couple of places I wanted to go and limited the guest list to people who had asked what I was doing for my birthday or who regularly include me on invitations to theirs (and I kept adding people all week, because I am old and forgetful – an excuse I plan on using a lot from now on). So the group stayed small enough that I didn’t have to make special arrangements or reservations. It was relaxing in both planning and execution.

And then, of course, I have enjoyed spending time on other days with people who couldn’t make it. I have had outings and been treated to so many dinners. I love March.

Another fun thing I did this month is the Wicked Wine Run. Or rather, the Wicked Wine 1K mosey, in my case. It took place at the Lost Oak Winery in Burleson, and we had a lot of fun. Two of us dressed up like Pikachu and a unicorn. I wore a headband and funky socks (not pictured).

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That’s my way to race – with four wine-tasting stops. Actually, the energy of the race atmosphere makes me want to train for an upcoming 5K, so starting on April 26, I begin my training, and I am actually excited about it. We’ll see how that goes.

In entertainment/arts news:

  • I’ve been binge-watching The Mindy Project. So many people have recommended it, and I finally heeded their recommendations. It did not disappoint. I love this show.
  • The Angry Women Blog. This blog understands me. I will be submitting posts to it within the next few months.
  • I tried watching Entourage. Meh. I am four episodes in, and I can’t decide if I’m actually bored with it or if, after hearing the HBO sound, I’m just disappointed that The Newsroom doesn’t start. But after four episodes, I still can’t think of a single moment that got any sort of enjoyment reaction from me. So I might have to throw in the towel on this one.
  • This has been a good reading month. My top three recommendations are The Rules of Civility by Amor Towles, The Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway, and the Daughter of Smoke and Bone trilogy (I’m about to start #3) by Laini Taylor. So good.

My favorite thing I made to eat was lasagna with spinach and goat cheese (instead of ricotta.  DO IT.). It looked like a bad accident:

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…but it tasted so good.

And my favorite non-coffee thing to drink was this tea:

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It might actually replace Earl Grey as my favorite. It’s that good.

So that was my March. How was yours? I’m linking up with Leigh Kramer – you should join us!

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The Good Life

I have mused often about what I want to be when I grow up. The answers I come up with are usually pretty vague – “a writer” or “someone who feeds people” or “professional student.” On the one hand, I know what I love. On the other hand, I don’t always know how to turn desired work into desired pay. There are a lot of jobs that involve a great deal of my desired activities, but I view most of them with a general attitude of “meh.”

The Friday before Spring Break, however, I got a taste of what it would be like for my loves to come together.

Part of the resident assistant job in Housing is to put on programs to foster hall community. One of the RAs wanted to have a cooking program, and she invited me to be a part of it. We decided that I would teach people to make a basic risotto. I took them through the process, showing them what it was supposed to look like at every step and giving them options they could add along the way. Then I gave them a one-page handout with the recipe and a summary of what they had learned at the end. It was a great afternoon.

The experience of actually enjoying these hours at work helped clarify some things for me.

1. I like teaching. I often get bogged down in the issues that plague our educational system, such as the red tape and the funding issues and the general lack of public understanding about what education is, but I like teaching. I like guiding people into learning something that they are interested in learning.

2. I like public speaking. I like finding ways to connect to an audience. Positive audience response is gratifying, and negative audience response is informative. When the audience doesn’t see the value in what they’re learning, though, it’s a rough day for both of us.

3. I like helping people discover what they have to say.  Whether it’s in writing or in speaking, I love that moment when people hear how their voice sounds for the first time – not the snarky defense mechanism that often makes up a big part of their social selves and thus their first attempts at expressing a viewpoint – but their real voice. I like teaching them how to turn that voice into a force to be reckoned with.

4. I like writing. Sometimes I feel like I don’t like writing. Usually when that happens, though, it’s because I’m trying to make what works for other people (Write every day! Have ten minutes – do some writing! Always, always be thinking about it!) work for me. I am an efficient writer, but I am not a multitasker. If I can do one thing at a time, I can get a lot done, but trying to juggle multiple things tends to derail all of them. My most productive writing structure requires me to set aside specific writing time. Handouts, blog posts, short essays – give me an hour or two, and I can sit down and churn one of those bad boys out, all the way from conception to a second or third draft (which is what you get from most of my blog posts). I can do that almost daily, but I need to find a space for it on the calendar. Longer works, like novels or longer essays/essay collections, don’t just take longer to write but also require longer stretches of time for me to make progress. There’s no sitting down to write for an hour on Fishbowl. All that’s going to do is give me just enough time to get a good writing pace going, and then I have to interrupt it to do the next thing in my schedule. Very frustrating. Small pockets of time are better used brainstorming writing ideas or art journaling. I need writing blocks, not writing moments. And as I am single with zero children, I have the ability to schedule them with relative ease.

None of this is brand-new information, but it helps with my weekly goal-setting. It reminds me what the good life looks like for me and how easy it would probably be for me to make it a habit.

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The Problem with Fun

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My word of the year is “fun.” That sounds exciting, doesn’t it? It sounds like the year is going to be full of lots of good times and happy memories. It sounds like a welcome change from the regular, humdrum mode of existence. It sounds…well…fun.

And it might be a fun year. I could look for the fun in every day, just like I looked for the beauty in every day last year, That would make it seem more fun.

What I want, though? ACTUAL fun. Not perceived fun. Not imagined fun. Real fun.

The problem with fun is that looking for it sets up certain expectations. And my expectations are often bigger than my outcomes. I listed some of these expectations at the first of the year: traveling, moving to a house, taking various classes, getting into better shape so that I have more energy. What is missing from this list is the prerequisite for most of these things – extra money. I did rework my budget to make it easier to save faster, but that is still going to be pretty slow-going (insert cliches about blood and turnips here). It’s possible that I need a new list with free things on it, but I cannot think of a single free thing that sounds fun. Not one.

This leads me to the second problem I’m having. I’m not sure I know what’s fun for me anymore. I will see something and think, “Hey, I remember when we did that. I enjoyed that!” Then I will remember how much has changed since then, and it suddenly seems impossible. Or, at the very least, more trouble than it’s worth.

My social situation has fluctuated a lot over the years. Friends have moved or gotten married or had kids or all of the above. These are good things for them that I wouldn’t change. I also learned from these situations that there are a lot of things that I love so much that I don’t mind doing them alone. But “don’t mind” and “enjoy” are two different things.

Also, one thing that is markedly NOT fun for me? Spontaneous plans. Or, rather, having to forego what I was already planning to do and find another time in my schedule to do it in order to make room for spontaneity. That’s not fun. That’s actually stresses me out like crazy. I’m a planner; my schedule is how I keep from getting overwhelmed. But I feel like I miss out on a lot of things that could be fun because by the time they were mentioned to me, I was already doing or planning to do something else.

It’s possible (read: probable/definite) that I am making this harder than it has to be.

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My Funny Valentine

This Valentine’s Day was a weird one. Usually, I’m in one particular mood. I either love all the gush and mush, or I want to wear black all day (convenient, as black makes up the majority of my wardrobe) and ignore all of it. There is seldom any in-between to it.

But this year was different. I was all over the place all week long. It was exhausting.

One minute, I would get all teary over a sweet thing that a friend did for a beloved one, and the next minute, I was cackling over a friend’s “No one really likes your squishy heart vomit; we’re all lying to you” post.

I told residents “We love you every day.”

I responded to the snorty quip, “Bitter much?” with “Um…yeah. Unashamed and card-carrying, actually. Go ahead. Share your naive, uninformed commentary on that. I dare you.” [She declined to share. I have smart friends.]

I loved myself with three of my favorite meals on Saturday – biscuits and gravy (vegan, because love means not having to take a pill) for breakfast, poached eggs and hash browns for lunch, and risotto (with Parmesan…and a pill…because some things are worth it) and roasted Brussels sprouts for dinner.

I mused about how long it would take someone to find my dead body if I died from a heart attack (and I would die, because there would be no one with me to call 911 while it was happening, much less to unlock the door and let them in when they arrived. I’m pretty much doomed.) and worked myself up into a nice, respectable panic attack, which kind of feels like a heart attack. Well played, Universe.  You asshole.

I barely managed not to live-tweet Chocolat. I sort of regret not live-tweeting it. I love that movie.

I made this list of awesome things I do as a single person living alone that would probably change if I had a boyfriend or a husband or a roommate:

  • Making my bed with the flat sheet on the bottom so that I can sleep curled up inside the fitted sheet like it’s a cocoon
  • My Friday night ritual of staying home and resting in solitude with a TV marathon or reading binge or a big batch of whatever-I-damn-well-please
  • Eating popcorn dipped in goat cheese and calling it dinner
  • Planning my “Family? Nope – just me and the Christmas mice” card (my inspiration is hilarious, and I wish her buckets of love and happiness, whatever that looks like for her. People this funny deserve a willing and enthusiastic audience.)
  • Coming home and EVERYTHING BEING EXACTLY WHERE I LEFT IT. It’s like Christmas every day.
  • Having all the risotto to myself (this might remain a thing even if I do meet a fella. He’s grown. He can make his own risotto.)

So my Valentine’s Week was emotionally chaotic. Just like my love life. I guess that’s appropriate.

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