I love me some Spring

It's silly that I'm sort of at a loss for what to write right now. I keep telling myself that you can write about anything. ANYTHING. It doesn't really matter what. I just need some practice, so I'm forcing myself to write something.

Spring is finally acting like it might really be here. It suddenly became green on the ground (not so much in the trees), the temperatures have been hovering around 70 during the day, and we've had plenty of thunderstorms (my favorite!). One reason why I like spring is that it brings out the kid in me. Something about the plants starting anew makes me feel refreshed and free. Free to dream, free to realize that those dreams can become a reality, free to hope for things that used to seem hopeless, free to let loose and be me.

Being me usually involves random behavior, and spring has to bring that out, too. After a day of enjoying the weather, the scenery, and the smells of spring, I was walking into my apartment and I stopped in my tracks. My heart paused in that, "Omigosh-this-is-so-fabulous" sort of way... because I had just spotted something that my mind decided was a rare and welcomed find. Something my mind, in that moment, would have described as a soft, layered, honey-colored piece of sun sent from heaven to sit on a stem outside my window. Then I remembered that I proudly picked these treasures for years as a gift for my mother because she didn't have the heart to tell me that they were dandelions and that dandelions are not gorgeous gifts sent from heaven to my yard, but, instead, are ugly ol' weeds. But for a moment on Sunday, my heart stopped in excitement, and when the disappointment rushed over me after I had the urge to go pick it and remembered what it was, I at least consoled myself by reminding myself that dandelions do mean that spring truly is here, afterall.

It's a Dog's Life

Dog's have the life. Though recently, I've reconsidered my answer to "If you could be any animal, what would it be?" and thought I might want to be a duck, I do think the final winner would be a dog. But I'd be selective. I wouldn't be a big dog that can't be held, or some dog that belongs to just a family that just throws it a bone from time to time.

No.

I'd probably be a Chihuahua. Not a toy Chihuahua, because I don't want to fear being stepped on or lost for life. But a Chihuahua, because I would be small enough to be held all the time and I don't want to have to worry about my hair being groomed. I hate having my hair messed with and tugged. A Chihuahua just wakes up in the morning (or midmorning, or afternoon, or...) and is ready to go.

I would live with a spoiled women in her twenties who lives off daddy's credit cards and would baby me more than daddy babies her, so all of my needs (and then some) would be taken care of. Maybe I would even get to drink out of a funky glass, even though I'm a dog. Maybe something like this.

Yes, I would, because I'm spoiled and my caretaker senses my funky personality and needs.






I would probably usually lounge in this during the day.










Unless one of our good friends was to stop by, then I suppose I would need to slip on something more appropriate. I think this deep v-neck faux-fur rimmed sweater is something that might impress any gentlemen who might happen to pop in.










And of course, at night my guardian (she's not my owner, she's my caretaker) may have a ritzy gathering and I would need something fashionable for that. I think this $40 Shanghai cocktail dress with the red ruffles for flair would really make me look almost intimidatingly sexy and exotic.


Anyway, I think the life of a spoiled dog is something to envy. All you have to do is be held, wear luxurious clothes, drink out of human dishes, sneak human food and sleep in big fluffy beds. What's not to love?

Introducing: My Mind.

So this is new.

I've had a blog to keep my friends updated on my comings and goings. I have my MySpace to comment mainly on my family's pages and to post surveys when I'm bored. I even have a Facebook to leave comments on the pages of family and friends I've met in my 25 years. Now I've decided to get just a blog to write whatever comes to mind, because I'm scared that I've been out of practice when it comes to the whole writing thing. It's time to sharpen the ol' skills, concerning both creativity (I used to be able to make a story about scratching my ear long and interesting) and writing. I'm scared that I've lost everything I know about punctuation, grammar, and basically good English, altogether. So maybe if I have a blog to write on during the little free time that I have, I can get some of my mad skills back and become a fabulous writer. So excuse me if the first few months of posts are mundane. Hopefully in a while, they will become creative, captivating, and leave you hungry for more... and will be correctly written, to boot.

So that's it. This blog will be full of what goes through my mind. It might be as simple as what I observed while my dog was pooping or as deep as why I'm thinking of eating organic versus conventional foods.

Comments, many comments, are welcome!