A Little Mayo Never Killed Anyone. Right?

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I had a dream about a sandwich last night. A sandwich that I ate approximately 32 years ago. In a downtown park in Denver, outside of the Natural History Museum. Probably the best sandwich I ever had in my life. A perfectly perfect piece of edible art that will forever hold a place of honor in my mind. It could be probable that I remember that sandwich more than my own husband by the time I’m ninety. I can still smell it. Taste it. Feel it’s warmth in my hands. A sandwich that will never be recreated in the history…

A Week in the Life of a Hungry Person

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Tuesday- I have high hopes for today. I’ve been working out like crazy and have been keeping a good eye on my calories. Hardly any cheating. I know I need to stop worrying about getting on the scale every day but if I’m ever going to reach my goal, I am going to have to seriously work harder than I ever have in my life. It doesn’t help that I feel so old and that I can heard my knees creaking every time I walk down the stairs, but I have hope that I can turn things around. I’m glad…

Supermarket Diaries Part Two: Panties and Purple Pants

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Catch the first part of the story here: Supermarket Diaries Part One: Just Killing Time Grocery cart firmly in tow, I was ready to plunder the rest of the sale racks in the store. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but I was convinced that if I left without spending some money I was probably going to die. I worked my way to the fat (but not that fat) section and found what I had apparently been waiting for—racks and racks of pants. Dozens—nay, hundreds—of pairs of pants (my personal shopping nemesis) in every conceivable color (okay, maybe only…

Supermarket Diaries Part One: Just Killing Time

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Okay, so I have this thing where if I have even twenty minutes to spare before I’m expected at work I head to the supermarket. But not just any average supermarket—I’m talking the deluxe version with sushi near one side of the building and a jewelry store near the other. Apparently there is something in my DNA that requires that I find something completely useless to buy every day to give my life validity. I’ve walked out with nothing (not that I didn’t try) and I’ve walked out with two bags filled of 80% off holiday items that I will…

A Jumbled Mass of Emotions

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My friend. I see you and what you are going through and I want to say that I am so terribly sorry. It’s only been a few days and I feel that you must be getting tired of hearing that. I don’t want to frustrate you or cause you any pain but I need to say a few things in order to get on with my own existence after something like this. Before I get too far though, I just want to let you know that I don’t know what is going to come down from my brain and into…

It’s Not You. It’s Me.

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I didn’t walk with you today. I probably won’t walk with you tomorrow either. It was lovely while it lasted, but there isn’t a need in my soul anymore. But, I want you to know that it isn’t you—it’s me. I convinced myself that it would be cold and windy and probably snowy, so I stayed away. I told myself that it would just be making myself miserable. I found a reason to stay home. But then the sun came out and made everything so gorgeous and inviting and I thought about how much I miss you. I could feel…

Love Gesture or Torture?

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My hubby is the best gift giver in the entire universe. Seriously. Sometimes I find myself moaning and groaning about the fact that he isn’t present in the moment (because he’s usually doing something annoying like working from home so that he can earn money to give people those gifts) but he always surprises me with home much he really is paying attention. Back in the Middle Ages when we were living together in sin (about one year pre-marriage vows) he gave me a super deluxe hair dryer for Valentine’s Day. I think I might have even got some super-fast…

June 11, 2015

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Originally posted on Chloeheart's Anecdotes:
It was the last day of school. She saw him at the lockers as she was getting all of her books. She saw him smile at her and he started to approach her. She averted her gaze and focused on getting all of her stuff. “Hey,” he said. “Hey,” she said without looking at him. “Let’s go home together,” he said. “S-sure,” she stuttered. “Good. I’ll wait for you outside,” he said and then he walked away. She stared at him as he walked. She wondered why he suddenly asked her to go with…

I Knew He Loved Me (Conclusion)

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Don’t forget the first part of the story: I Knew He Loved Me  This is the part where I’m supposed to tell you that he had scribbled all over the paper doodling my name and drawing pictures of us holding hands, but that dream was pretty much the complete opposite of what I found.  There were doodles all right, but not with my name– with another girl’s name. A girl from our class that I had never even seen him talk to—let alone ever imagined he would ever have feelings for.  There were doodles all right.  And there were about fifty different…

Autumn, How Do I Hate Thee?

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I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out how to handle such a delicate topic as the changing of seasons from summer to autumn. I find myself surrounded by people championing the beauty, the crispness, the, how shall I put this, the pumpkin-ness of everything. Make no mistake, it’s not easy to come clean about something that it seems everyone in the world is in love with. In fact, it’s extremely daunting. But I have words in my heart and a blog just waiting to be used. So I will. Autumn, why do I hate thee? Because you’re stealing the time…