Although I am not a big fan of the color yellow, this summer’s optimism has got me taking a second look. I acquired a couple of rough looking furniture pieces recently.
I’ve redesigned my Pinterest page with board covers. See what a remarkable difference it makes.
Damn me! I’ve done it again. Waited until the last minute, and now I’m ready to hurl myself through a window. Maybe it isn’t so bad. Let’s see… what have I packed already? Oh yeah, absolutely nothing. Fellow blogger and traveler Willia over at Cebuana Adventures posted about her travel bag recently, and she gave me the
I’ve been paying attention to my mind a lot lately. What I mean is that I’ve been listening to the things that my brain says, and I’ve been asking questions and demanding answers.
For you to understand what the heck I’m talking about, I’ll give you an example from as recently as this morning.
Me: So how’s your day going? You tired? Did you eat well here or no? The Fly: Humans have no idea just how filthy their houses are. I’ll be living out the rest of my life here, Lady. Your house is a paradise. Me: How come you aren’t in the kitchen with the other flies?
The clouds sit heavily under the hidden sky. The past two days have been on and off rain, sometimes a downpour, sometimes a drizzle. There have been few precious hours of dryness. It is, after all, the rainy season. Yesterday, Saturday, I missed my opportunity for a morning bike ride and I was bummed. Thankfully,
And, yes, even now, there’s no lack of crap. I know that this is a shocking revelation, but some of the so-called literature in many grade school literature books is crap squeezed between two covers.
Attention my Most Excellent Readers: My Twitter account is up and running– as far as I can tell. Here was my plan of action: Throughout the past week, I’ve been jotting down in my notebook all the things I would’ve said aloud if someone where actually listening. I like what I’ve got so far. I
So, I walked into my room last night and looked at my bed and thought, What the heck? Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s always the same issue. My mornings look like this: I stare at my closet trying to figure out which type of a mood I’m in. I settle on something and put
So I grew up in the age of Girl Power. Us girls were told that we could do anything, be anything. We were presented with posters of women playing sports and dressed in astronaut gear. We were shown women in suits. Power suits with shoulder pads. You didn’t mean business if you didn’t have shoulder