I think we may be over the hump of emotional blog posts; hallelujah, yes? At least for this week; next week, I’m going to see The Lumineers, which may be a tad emotional in an I-can’t-stop-weeping-because-you’ve-been-the-soundtrack-of-every-emotional-moment-for-the-past-three-months-which-has-been-about-67 kind of way. No big deal, you know?
Each day until then isn’t a million bajillion years long if that’s what you’re thinking. I do this thing in the summertime that I lovingly refer to as Sitting Behind a Desk. This is because no matter where I’m summoned, it feels like there is a desk awaiting, which is actually not a terrible thing—what if they made me answer phone calls and edit copy on the floor or in a cave or on the treadmill?—but it is an adjustment. Remember that “lazy” pace I referred to? I’m three days away from HOW MUCH PINTERESTING CAN ONE GIRL DO mode, but never fear, I’m going to throw myself into being a mad blogwoman (mad defined as “wildly excited,” not to be confused with mad defined as “extremely foolish,” “greatly provoked,” or “mentally disturbed; deranged; insane or demented. Who wants to read blog posts by an angry lunatic? Don’t answer that.) Anyway, what I mean by “mad blogwoman” is that I’d like to take 13 photos a day of my coffee and post it for you with a snappy caption that declares, “I drink coffee! And I like it!” I mean, I do. And I do.
Oh, with a flower! Totally original, if I do say so myself. And speaking of coffee (aren’t we always?), did you hear that there’s a real-deal study that claims coffee drinkers live longer? All I’m saying is I told you so, and also that I was president of this club before we knew it was the fountain of youth. You can’t take that away from me! But welcome to the grinder, people. There’s room for everyone.
Speaking of living a really long time, I don’t even need to do that. I’m already experiencing the golden symptoms of old age, the most exciting of which being the shower slip I suffered last week. I’m only telling you this because when I’m 58 and slipping in the shower, I’ll feel better about knowing it’s just a habit, you know? As it turns out, falling in the shower is both traumatic and risky, as I came out with a dent in my shin and a really pretty sea-foam-bluish-green looker of a bruise, but who KNOWS what I could get next time. I guess I could get a sea-foam-bluish-green looker of a cast, but that doesn’t sound that fun. Preceding the shower tumble, I also fell out of my bed one night mid-stretch. I’m beginning to believe that coordination just isn’t my thing, something of which my eight-grade peers tried to convince me in P.E. when I insisted on at least trying to hit the ball. All this to say my mom ends her phone calls with, “Don’t fall down, okay?” I’m trying, Mom. It’s a jungle out there.
Speaking of moms, how about them? Mother’s Day forever! Or at least once a year in May! I skedaddled home to see my own mother, and we did mother-daughtery things like shop and eat cake. I don’t take those things for granted, people. Also, I appreciate when you guys tell me I look like this beauty even though we’re not technically blood-related. We’re related in the way that you are once someone has a. shampooed your bloody hair after a golf-cart-accident-induced head wound and b. seen you wear headgear. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I just admitted that I did, in fact, wear headgear to the entire world/my seven devoted blog followers. We love you!
Speaking of love, did I tell you my best friend is getting married? Man, that is the coolest/weirdest thing! We do this thing where we giggle about bridesmaid dresses and squeal over wedding invitations and cry at these terrific videos of people, well, getting married, and it seems so surreal to me, but then I realize, “Wow. She’s actually going to do this.” I’ve never been one to come around quickly, honestly, and still, Pinteresting is so much more fun when you feel like you’re actually being a good friend, as opposed to wasting your life debating an ivory or cream wedding dress and trying not to re-pin a 73rd picture of flowers or the triple-layer cosmo brownies. All that to say GUESS WHAT?! Janie asked me (officially, and actually for the second official time) to be her bridesmaid. We had a whole Moment by the ocean last week with all four roommates, but this time, she handed me some flowers and pretty Pinterest craft and a smile, and it seemed all the more real. I told her I’d think about it. Don’t want to rush into anything, you know? (JK. I’m all, “I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living, your bridesmaid I’ll be.)
If the rest of summer is anything like this week, I think summer’s going to be brighter than sunshine, albeit a little painful, what with the bruises and all. But who cares? I’m gonna live forever. If the coffee doesn’t do it, the yoga definitely will.
Where the Wildflowers Grow 