SPRING

It's about time.

I think February was actually cloudy for the ENTIRETY of the month. All 29 freaking days.

And then, all of a sudden, Spring. It really did arrive overnight. And the weather has been perfect.

It's sit on the porch with wine weather. Look up at the sky and sigh with happiness weather. Lay by the pool with an iced tea weather.

There is this bird, though, that wakes up every morning at exactly 7 a.m. and tweets his little heart out (more than 140 characters, I assure you) for 45 minutes. It's the equivalent of bird shouting. I can't tell if I think it's sweet or annoying. Sort of a combination of the two.

But he's joyous, sounds like. Young, hopeful, full of love and ready to find true love and make a nest. Which really doesn't make him much different from a 20-something girl, really.

I'm lucky enough that the place I live EXPLODES into bloom every year. Despite the pollen, which is covering everything with an enormous green blanket, everyone is usually pretty happy about it. We all pop Clariton like Pez and say what a wonderful, difficult to breathe in world it is.

Yesterday I was at the gas station and decided that, for once in my life, I was going to use the weird window cleanser with the gross cloth-type thing on one end and the squeigy on the other and clean my windows, which were getting difficult to see through.

Ignoring the fact that the cleaner smelled like horses (what?) and squigy-ing (I have no idea how to spell that word) hurts your arms by window four (or maybe I'm just a weenie), I cleaned those dang windows until they sparkled. Until they dried.

Now it looks like a deranged person grabbed a wet cloth and slapped it all over my car. Instead of being just an even coat of yellow, it's a lovely, smeared up mess.

Lesson learned.

This gets me pretty riled up, not gonna lie

Also,  spring means the Hunger Games came out. I'm not going to geek out here, because I could and you would roll your eyes and be like, oh, she's one of THOSE. But I was so excited. Like a teen. Like a TWILIGHT fan, for God's sake.

It was sort of pathetic. No, I didn't dress up. I was trying to play it cool (not sure it worked: I was about to cry when we couldn't find theater parking), but I LOVED the books and the movie was really well done. It was like a beautiful illustration. Don't bother seeing it if you haven't read the books or at least gone to one of the cheat-sheet sites (Try this). But as a writer, I think this is one of the greatest accomplishments you can have. Capture the imagination of MILLIONS and reach them on that level that only a really wonderful storyteller can. Suzanne Collins, with her amazing imagination, is one of my heros.  You go girl.

She looks like a bad ass

It's a million years past my bedtime, since I now have a job and wake up with the birds, apparently. See you tomorrow :)









MWAH,

moi