Tag Archives: flowers

Fall Is Coming And You Better Be Happy About It

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Dear Fall,

If you were a handsome man wearing a skinny tie, I would enter a lifelong, monogamous commitment with you never look back, which is a bold statement coming from someone who will probably change their child’s legal name at the age of three. Even if you didn’t have the skinny tie. If you were a food, I would eat you every day. If you were Neil Diamond reincarnate… well, just… you never would be. ‘Cus you’re too perfect.

I think I started to love fall because it meant the start of the school year. And things that smell like Christmas morning. And layered clothes. If you don’t live in a place where you have a change of seasons, my soul cries out in anguish for you. I know that you think your Christmas palm tree and your New Years Even sweat ‘stache photo is fantastic, but you’re really missing out. Here in Illinois, it’s starting to get that teeny tiny crisp in the air at night and I love it. That means that all things wonderful are packing their bags and headed my way.

Soon, the days will start to fade and sunshiny nights will be replaced by candles, blankets and anything that smells like cinnamon.

 Rainy fall days have to be my favorite thing. 

It also means the perfect kind of weather to cuddle up on the couch with a vintage copy of War & Peace.

But, I’d rather use it as a prop for my lamp. I like to think I’m giving more meaning to the book’s life.

I don’t know why I draw the correlation between globes and fally stuff. But I do. I’m sure it can be traced back to some sort of traumatic childhood experience involving creamed corn. Sick.

So, if you live in one of those gastly warm-all-year-around places, I suggest you plan yourself a trip to come visit me. I’ll make you a caramel apple spice latte and we can wear hoodies and play in leaves and stuff.

It will be a disgustingly awesome time.

P.S. I loved reading all your comments on Understanding Right Brainers: The Curse of the Creative. This is why I even have this blog, because I can meet people like you, who make me feel somewhat normal. You’re all insane in your own way and I love it!

Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.

More Things I Hate: Valentine’s Day, Racists And Adult Acne

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Really? Did I just have to throw around the “R” word to get your attention? That’s sad. Sad because I have been gone for so long that I feel like I have to throw a dramatic title at you in order to peak your interest, and sad because that just might be true. Well, joke is on you cus this post isn’t about racists OR ACNE.

I’m currently writing this from my local Borders. I’ve got the Chess dweebs to my left, the girls who can’t figure out why he hasn’t called yet to my right, and a riveting, religious debate going on behind me. Why. Why do I do this to myself? Well, I’ve been finding it increasingly difficult to get the motivation to do anything at my house these days. There are many reasons why this could be: 1. the 4-inch memory foam, which renders it almost impossible for me to move once situated; 2. the endless supply of rice krispie treats and fruit snacks in my nightstand; 3. the permanently closed blinds that let in zero sunlight, thus removing all sense of space and time;  4. the looming presence of Valentine’s Day in the air; 5. or the depression I’ve been stuck in for the past year.  There’s no way of knowing for sure. But my point is, if you ever want another blog again in your precious little life, you’ll stop asking questions.

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Speaking of the overly-commercialized scam of a holiday, Valentine’s Day, this year my dad dropped off a bouquet of flowers along  with a bag of Xanax and a “don’t kill yourself” note from my mother. I’m hoping this information spares me from any grief I’ll be receiving from all of you on why I only wrote two blogs last month. I’ve already got to live with the fact that today I’ve already consumed: a McDonald’s #2, a cold Little Caesars pizza, a box of Junior Mints, Frosted Flakes, and a carton of 100 calorie pack fudge stripe cookies. It’s not even 3 pm yet, and I’ve still got The Bachelor to suffer through later.

Considering my dad is the one guy in my life I can always count on, I reached a logical conclusion to make him my Valentine this year. So I will now share a quick story with you that took place over this joyous holiday weekend.

[I’m at the mall with my parents]

MOM: Denny, we’re gonna look for some curtains. Why don’t you walk some laps for your cholesterol? You haven’t been working out.

DAD: Sure, that’s a good idea. I’ve been eating really bad lately.

[20 minutes later…]

ME: Hey, mom, is that dad up ahead of us?

MOM: Yea, I can see his bald spot.

ME: DAD!  Hey, dad!

MOM: He can’t hear you. He’s needs a hearing aid.
ME:  Wait, it looks like he’s eating something?

MOM: Well, what would he be eating? We’re about to go get dinner?

[I tap him on the shoulder and as he turns around, about five Fannie May wrappers fall out of his hand, which is holding a half-eaten pixie]

DAD: [looks at me, mid-chew] Crap.

So then, we walked into Panera to get some dinner:

DAD: Hey, wow. They have free Wi-Fi here. I didn’t know that.

ME: Yup, I guess they do.

DAD: That means we could have brought our laptops surfed the internet while we eat.

ME: Yes, yes it does.

DAD: Good to know for next time.

ME: But, you don’t have a laptop.

DAD: Well, it’d be pretty cool if I did. Maybe I will get one, you know, so I can use the free Wi-Fi.

Sigh. This is what I’m dealing with folks. Remember, I’m a product of these two parents – and surely, that counts for something. I hope all is well and none of you jumped off the nearest bridge last weekend. Cus really, at least wait until it’s warmer.

P.S. I updated my photography blog, Chumps. Check it out.

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