the taste of january.

since my last post, i've allowed my hoofs to step forward, with ease. and rather than dreading how that next gulp of anger will feel after its defecated on my tastebuds, i've been breathing deeper. fuller. 

the wound has healed and now a tight little line sits on my paw like a smirk. who would have thought it would take a serrated knife to cut through my anguish. 

last night, as we swooped down 65th toward our comfortable "studio," i admitted how much better i felt. it's interesting to step back and listen to yourself talk candidly about things that others take for granted. things that i will take for granted again in a couple of years, assuming this isn't just fakery. 

and rather than those intense solo scornful-face-making-competitions in mirrors, i've been drafting my mental list of "plans" for this year. so far, i hope to: check out local happy hours and music venues, continue to hunt around for the perfect latte, adopt more plants to fill the larger space and convince pickles to become more active.

 

perhaps a festive color-coordinated sweatsuit will entice her. she's bound to cause double-takes in an earthy green or pink. i can hear it now, the neighborhood cat who i occasionally spot in the front yard will meow in the window, as if to say, "damn pickles, you are tearin' it up." 

i have a confession.

so. for those of you who are blessed with my unusually sarcastic and half-glass-empty presence these days (okay, months), i've noticed something. it's sick and i don't really want to tell you--but i think i like you--so i'll let you in on my little somethin-somethin.

i think darkness is my fuel. sure sure, it's ugly and makes me not-so-nice of a person, but i've noticed it boosts my creativity. and i'm not talking about those garlic necklaces i've been stringing together, i'm talking about me. how i'll be pissed at my douche-of-a-supervisor and all of a sudden i am in the bathroom--thinking about the ugly tiles on the wall and how they must have been on sale when they were constructing the building--and i realize i should really be a cartoonist. how my snappy wit would be charming if accompanied by a nice doodle. stick figure. what-have-you.

so when i think about my game plan, that plan that has me, i worry about this. i don't want to lose my essence. i don't want to look over, and all of a sudden have my glass of starfruit juice be half-full.

perception is important to me. and i'm concerned about what that means for next year.

some things are just more important.

dramatic pause.

my stomach is infested with grasshoppers these days. at any moment, they're either irritable or dancing. i haven't decided which one yet. yeah, you guessed it. it's work related. gross. i hope that doesn't mean i'm one of those people. so, yes. i've started this blog in attempts to take advantage of those amazing spare moments my brain decides to take a mental smoke break. you know, start something new. fresh. kind of like a nice head of lettuce.