Everything is talking about how dang cold it is. I’m one of them. But I won’t do that here because whatever I have to say has been said. I’ve decided though to dig into my deepest optimism and try to think about winter in a positive way. I’m bringing out the big guns. What’s that?… Continue reading Attitude is Everything
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In an open letter to the blender,
“I suppose that I should just be grateful that this isn’t a eulogy. I know that I’ve been working you hard every day with all of my smoothie making, but yesterday, you gave me a scare. I guess you don’t like to blend collard greens? Maybe I should have romanced you better, seductively adding the […]
In an open letter to cornbread,
“You have filled me with a longing desire. In addition to greasing you with a bit of bacon grease, and spicing you with some hot pepper, there is something else. I want to sing Prince songs to you. This is how deep this yearning pulls….”
The Kind of Gal Who Likes to Click Around
I have a weakness for s’mores. Apparently, you can roast them in a mason jar. Colors are fun. Sprinkles are fun. Donuts are fun. The combination has to be super fun. Sweatshirts are so comfortable, but they can be kind of slumpy. Maybe with a bit of embellishment, I can figure out a way to… Continue reading The Kind of Gal Who Likes to Click Around
Lime in the Coconut Milkshake
Sometimes it’s a flavor combination that gets to you. It haunts your thoughts, distracting you from the things that you know you ought to do. I was stricken by the idea of combining key lime pie and coconut. After all, lime and coconut are so good together. In a sitcom they would be…. You know… Continue reading Lime in the Coconut Milkshake
In an open letter to a Pantene commercial,
“Commercials usually don’t move me to buy products, however, if there is a song in it that involves both, ‘it be hot like a desert, yo,’ and ‘she be walkin’ like an animal,’ it’s likely that I’m going to track the song down and maybe buy it.”
In an open letter to Elvis, Presley, not Crespo,
“Your velvet voice is currently overtaking my mind. As a result, for illogical reasons, I find myself wanting pillowy buttermilk biscuits that are generously buttered and honeyed. Don’t be cruel, save me from myself.”
In an open letter to her irrational fears,
“No matter what you’d have me believe, I know that no one is going to steal my bra when I go to the gym and leave me to go back to work un-scaffolded….”
In an open letter to the sweet potato she took to work earlier in the week just in case,
“Thank you for being a friend. I needed you today and you were there for me. Your support meant that my lunch consisted of nutrients not vending machine fare.”
In an open letter to anyone going to a MLK Day twerking party,
“Objection.”