Back when I was pretty persnickety about these things, like, college, when a man called a grown woman a "girl," I'd say, if she menstruates, she's a woman, not a girl.
So does this mean I'm back to being a girl? Because yay. I enjoy being a girl.
I've been meaning to show you this text forever. I was texting with Cardinal the day Tallulah died, as opposed to the day the music died, and I want you to know I hate voice texting. I know I should be all delighted by the miracle of life or whatever, but if you give me new technology, I want it to work. I particularly like "for fucks fake."
It's been one of those spring weekends that's sunny and lovely, and just a little too cold in the shade. I've been gardening all weekend, pulling that infernal ivy I can't get rid of. Attached above, please find my neighbor's tree, which has these lovely weird Dr. Seuss blooms this time of year.
The blossoms blow into my yard, and I love it.
I think every year at this time, I show you my Dentyne-colored azaleas, and bemoan the part where whomever planted azaleas in my yard picked ALL THE COLORS. Who decided ALL THE COLORS was an idea? Couldn't we have just stuck with one?
I'm also pretty sure that every freaking year I try to show you this pretty blossom and the goddamn camera focuses on my house instead. But this gives you yet another opportunity to give me ideas for what color to paint the door. It gives you another opportunity to ignore that I'm going for "cottage-y" and say, "Paint it pumpkin, Jooooon!"
While I was in the yard, my photographer's assistant was with me.
Oh! Also! See my damn Fitbit? Yesterday I walked 9,997 steps. Goddammit. THREE MORE STEPS. Come ON.
Also also, today is my weigh-in day for Weight Watchers, and three weeks into it I have lost seven pounds. I know, man. I'm starting to look sick, right? Go ahead, ask me if I'm okay. Hashtag goals. After I'm done writing this, I'm headed to the store to get more WW groceries, weird things like grape tomatoes and baby carrots. The frozen burrito aisle misses me so.
I'm going to what my former student used to call the Ghetto Lion, which is the Food Lion that might be a trifle tacky. But it's cheaper than Harris Teeter. Still, whenever I'm in there, I totally think "Ghetto Lion" every time.
Last night I was eating three cups of popcorn (4 points) and watching a movie, when I saw Lily go all the way up on her back legs just so she could rub against Edsel. Naturally I missed capturing that, but those two are so in love it's ridik. I'm glad Edsel has a cat friend in his hour of need. Any time I cry about Talu these past 11 days, he runs in and presses his head on me. He's a good boy. In his own way.
Yeah, I KNOW I gotta paint the porch. So go ahead, tell me what colors. I still like the idea of gray. To match my cats. And hair. Check the roots.