One

Because I love my nephew, Cade, so much I am willing to do things that I wouldn’t normally do. For instance, awkwardly circle the bolts of novelty fleece with a smoky-smelling business man in a very nice overcoat. I don’t know what he was looking for, but we ran into each other so many times that I wanted to die a little. How many oopsie faces can one make without having to say something? I’m not sure, apparently it is one more than the number of oopsie faces I made today.

I ended up finding the novelty fleece I was looking for. It was yellow and gold and featured Vikings heads. I love my nephew and will indulge him in his two favorite things creating stuff and the Vikings. Ever since Cade spied the big bag of poly-fiberfill I got when I was making Christmas toys the kid has been obsessed with making pillows. Usually he makes his pillows out notebook paper softened by repeated crumplings and staples. After we celebrate his birthday on Sunday he can make his pillows out of Vikings-y fleece and the hand sewing machine Sister #2 is getting him.

Two

I have decided to make myself a raspberry beret, the kind you can allegedly find in a second-hand store. I’ve wanted once since 1985. I’m tired of waiting. When it is warm, I won’t wear much more. Just kidding.

Three

I used a digital coupon at the craft store. That sentence. Oof. But, dude I saved like $8 and I’m a freelance writer who could use that $8.

Four

I almost. Almost. ALMOST. asked the young man working the cash register at Joann’s how tall he was. Almost. He was tall. Like almost as tall as I was. I wanted to be all, “Yowza, how tall are you?” But then I didn’t, because: Manners. Also, I was babbling about my digital coupon and had to die 1000 tiny deaths about uttering the words “digital coupon” out loud to someone I’d never met before. Also, I hate when people ask me how tall I am.

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II.
Whenever my niece Jaycie wants to chat the first line of her IM is always, always, always, “Hi. Can I talk to you?” The first 48 times she did that I always thought she was going to tell me something significant or important. “Can I talk to you” carries a sort of gravity she doesn’t realize yet. Earlier this summer, Sister #2 told Jaycie and Max that they should ask me if I’m available to chat, free, not busy, what have you. There was a lot of chatting this summer. Jaycie has interpreted that as “Can I talk to you.” It cracks me up.

III.
Since I’m deep into my winter’s hibernation, I don’t have very much contact with people. At all. Aside from a few client calls, I haven’t spoken to another human being since Friday. This is not a complaint, merely a statement of facts. This is the first time I’ve been self-employed during the hibernation season. Usually, despite my hermitlike tendencies, I am forced to go to work. But not this year. It’s having a strange effect on my subconscious. My dreams that used to be populated by friends, family, and coworkers now star celebrities. It’s kind of weird. In the last week I’ve dreamed about Jodie Foster, Christian Slater, Bruce Springsteen, Mo’nique, and Jim Halpert from The Office.

IV.
One of my resolutions for this year is to keep track of all the words I look up in the dictionary. I give this another week before the novelty wears off. So far I’ve looked up: incredulity, gullible, incomprehensible, lexicographers, bated, delivered, fulgent, and ferocious. Also, I turned Bittersweetheart.com into a Tumblr blog. Another resolution (use that domain I’ve owned for 10 years for something) that will lose its shine by February.

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i plan on doing a whole bunch of nothing this weekend. weary, that is me. believe it or not, i used to be quite the party girl when i was younger. not that i am old, but i am weary. after working my ass off all week, the last thing i want to do is go out and work a scene. what’s sad is i don’t even feel restless. often times i feel content and love using the time to recharge my batteries. of course, this will all change with the weather. when it’s warm outside, i have a hard time sitting still. i guess i just like to hibernate.

ok, i just have to share this tidbit from the 10 o’clock news:
the FDA has approved a name change for prunes. they are now to be called dried plums. it’s a marketing ploy. too many young consumers link prunes with senior citizens.

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