Here I am in the waiting room of my preferred Ford dealer. My little SUV is undergoing the first oil change of it's life since I adopted it.
My observation over the course of the last few minutes is this: there is power, power, wonder working power in the wink of a car salesman. A brief mention of another dealer's policy regarding a free oil change? Wink! Done. "I'm sorry it's so dirty! I meant to get it washed beforehand." Wink! Done.
He is even offering me 50 smackers if I send someone his way.
Granted, sometimes a wink from a salesman can mean absolutely nothing (other than, 'I'm about to steal your money'). In my very fortunate case, it means "I'm going to work really hard for your business."
Twenty-six has big shoes to fill, twenty-five was the best year of my life so far. I did more, saw more, said more and felt more than I ever had before. I fell in love with life and summer all over again. It was a brilliant year.
Today I am thinking of my Grandpa who shared a birthday with me. He was simple and tall and strong and good. I miss him. I miss all of them and remember a lot of sweet birthdays with my grandparents.
I'm thinking about the trip my darling and I are taking next week. I'm going to see the Grand Canyon for the first time. That's a great way to start to start a new year of life - that and five days of uninterrupted time with McW.
I'm also thinking about the Anthropologie birthday discount I got in the mail. Nothing says 'happy birthday' like 15% off your entire purchase.
I got a random act of kindness present last fall from Curly. It was this little Oriental Hyacinth bulb. It comes with a vase and a bulb and instructions. It serves as decor (eventually) and a lesson in patience. You have to store the bulb in a cold dark place (the fridge) for about three months and then you can bring it into the light.
Here's what you have after the first three months:
I know. After three months? An onion with an over-sized shoot of asparagus sprouting from the top?
I sent McW a picture of it and he promptly renamed the little plant the 'phallus lonelywomanus.'
But alas. Just three days after shooting that photo - this is what greeted me this morning:
It's not done growing and blooming, but that's pretty good progress.
The progress looks a little like cauliflower but still. Progress.
If I ever make it big, remind me not to accept the invitation to sing the national anthem at the Super Bowl. I will inevitably erase all the good I've done with my little career when I forget the words.
If I ever make it big, remind me not to accept the invitation to perform during the superbowl half time show. I'm not Paul McCartney or Janet Jackson. It won't be good.
I will confess that I already went back on my word as of February 3rd. My reasoning? I had to wear them because if I wouldn't have, I would have looked like a Russian street walker (hussie, floosy, wh-oore). It was a necessary (it's still stupid winter) evil.
In little kitty's case, the sun is mostly just right there in her face - but I'm pretty sure she feels the love.
Either that, or this will be the author photo on the back of her book jacket - the book that she will write after she escapes from her domesticated oppression.
An excerpt? Ok...
Here I sit, blinded by the sunshine that is magnified by these studio apartment windows. I can barely move as I have constant access to the 'food' the witch puts out for me. "Are you hungry, little kitty witty moo moo" she'll coo at me. That stuff won't cure the hunger but the chewing gives me something to do.
I belong out there...with those squirrels. With the feral cats. With the free cats...I'm developing a plan.