Am I blue?

Good flippin' grief. I've been eating today as though there was never going to be food again.

This is a problem because I just saw a bunch of pictures of myself in Melissa's wedding. Buh. It's really ridiculous how little the image in my mind matches up to the image that I see on the computer screen. I really thought I looked better than that... Maybe I did look better than that and it is in fact true that I am the least photogenic person on the face of the planet. It's a toss up. *sigh*

Learned an important life lesson last night. As a widow, never turn on your Pandora station as you are trying to go to sleep- even if you really really want to listen to music. Because every single song that comes on (even ones that you've listened to a million times before) will sound like it's coming directly from your deceased husband and you will cry and cry and cry.

It started out with this song called "Never Alone" I've never heard it anywhere but on Pandora, but is really a great song. (Follow the link if you want to listen to it.) But it started the waterworks and then Pandora proceeded through all sorts of other applicable songs. When Adele came on I had to turn it off...

Because on a scale of one to Adele, widowhood is Adele-squared.

In other news, my nails look super cool.

And also my stapler just fell off my desk, hit the top, and sailed right into the trashcan. Couldn't make that shot again if I tried.

But why would I try?

Yeah... so maybe this wasn't a top ten blog... They can't all be winners. Some have to just be a jumble of random crap. When I start grad school I may begin blogging less often... like only when I actually have something interesting to say... We'll see, but you should start preparing yourself now.

Highly Illogical

So a weird thing happened to me the other day.

I went over to Jonny and Katie's house to hang out and play games.

That's not the weird thing-- that's pretty common, actually.

But I walked in and was caught very off guard. Unbeknownst to me, Jonny (and another friend) had shaved their heads.

I saw it and I'm not sure what expression crossed my face.

I know it was shock. It might have been horror.

I think Jonny was the only person to see it, because he was looking at me and I think he's gotten to know me well enough that he can spot my micro-expressions. (If that's the case- Jonny, I'm really sorry.)

I didn't know why, but I hated it... like I hated it *a lot.*

I later asked Kara, "Why would they do that? It doesn't make any sense. Why? Did they do it together? Why did they do that?"

She said that she didn't know but gave me a kinda weird look that I seemed to care so much.

And that's when I figured it out.

I hated their shaved heads because the last time I saw someone suddenly go from hair to a shaved head it was Nathan and it was cancer. I hated Jonny's shaved head so much because I was emotionally processing his hair cut as though it was cancer.

And it didn't matter that it was two people, because people shave their heads in solidarity of friends all the time.

I didn't actually recognize any of this in the moment. It took two days.

I've gotten used to it and I'm ok now, and I feel bad that it was my initial reaction... but it's like the first time I saw an ambulance after Nathan died... You just never know what's going to be a trigger, and apparently I don't even know that I've been triggered until days later when I can't get it out of my head.

The illogical-ness of it all can be so frustrating sometimes.

Glow, stick, glow!

So here I am.

Had a good day.

Not a great one... not sure that a great day was possible today.

But I love America.

And I did have my Aunt Celeste's 4th of July salad... and while perhaps no one else loved it as much as me... I loved it enough for all.

There are leftovers and I'm happy about that, because I don't worry about over-eating on it. The salad consists of tomatos, onions, green peppers, feta cheese and just a bit of italian dressing. It's just lovely.

Maybe I'll have it for lunch tomorrow... or for dinner... or both. Who knows.

I'm writing this blog in the dark because I finally had an excuse to use my glow sticks tonight because people were outside. So I made myself a bracelet and a circlet--- though I've decided to call the latter a diadem, now.

And I'm still wearing them as I type this, because I love glow sticks...

And the only good way to appreciate a glow stick is in the dark.

I feel like there should be a good metaphor for life hidden somewhere in the depths of the glow stick... but I'm not sure there is... it may just be a pretty light made by mixing two chemicals.

Kara-rah-rah

Tonight I blew Kara's mind by informing her that black and green olives are the same thing, just the black olives are left on the tree longer.

Blew.

Her.

Mind.

I love my best friend. I love that she doesn't get insulted when I say that I'm going to describe her "like a hurricane.... but a good hurricane." (You know you use all these words to describe the force and power of a hurricane, but she's not destructive, just...intense.)

I also love that she has actually already thought of the dilemma that I will have describing her to people who don't know her, and so she has crafted a highly adaptable script for me to explain to them the glory and wonder and terror that is my best friend.

And I love that she is so good at accents... all accents, not just a few, like me.

And I love that she thinks I'm so funny and great.

And I love that she will listen and take me seriously when I explain why I'm not as shallow as I sound.

And pin pictures on pinterest that make her cry for 20 minutes.

And how she apologizes/checks in to make sure that I'm ok that she's the fox and I'm the hound dog, even though I'm the one who started the analogy.

And that she has back up plans for *every* possible contingency known to man.

And a few that no man would ever think to make a back-up plan for.

And that she believes and trusts me enough that she *almost* believed me when I said that kiwis and strawberries are actually the same fruit at different stages too, even though she totally knows they aren't.

Philadelphia better darn well appreciate what they are getting, lest I go up there and kick them all into the second Tuesday of next week.

July

I love taking a shower so cold that when you open the shower curtain the temperature doesn't change... well, I love it in the summer anyway. In the winter I like my showers slightly warmer.

Oh my goodness, who is in love with her polka dot nails? That would be this girl.

You know how I did it? The head of a straight pin that's been stabbed in a pencil eraser. Then you just dip it in a small puddle of nail polish and dot your nail. The internet is a genius.

I normally love the 4th of July, but this year it isn't as exciting... I think there are several reasons for this.

Kara is moving away this month and while I try not to think about it too hard... she is.

My family celebration is normally a reason I love it, but my family isn't celebrating even close to the actual day and I'm not going to it anyway.

... and I have a lot of really strong Nathan memories that go along with fireworks and the 4th of July. There is just something I find intensely romantic about fireworks. I'm not even sure why.

Plus, I distinctly remember Nathan and I discussing when to start trying to have a baby 3 years ago on our way home from the "I Love America" show. We decided September... which was the month he was diagnosed. (You know, just in case October wasn't full of enough extra fear and hope that year.)

I can't imagine what my life would have been like, being pregnant and caring for Nathan... or being the mother of an 8 month old when Nathan passed away. I don't know how I would have managed.... but I still long for the life that I thought I was going to have that July.

Get the heck out of Dodge.

The problem with writing a blog post that everyone loves, is that the next day I have to replace it, only now everyone's expectations are really high... and honestly it takes *forever* to draw all those stick figures. I know that they are super crappy, because- well, that's kinda the point. But even super crappy pictures actually take some time if you want them to be relatively consistent and to tell what's happening in the picture. The "create a filled polygon" tool was my friend last night. It would be different if I had one of those sketch pad tools, but man, buying one of those and setting it all up for the random picture blog is not worth it!  Sorry kiddos.

That said, I'm glad you all liked my blog... When I was writing/drawing it last night I got to a point where I wasn't exactly sure if it was hilarious or just stupid, so if you even got the tiniest smile from it I feel like I accomplished something.

As an amusing side point I missed church this morning because I completely forgot to set my alarm... And, not being married, there was no one to wake up at 10 and be like, "Crap! We gotta get going cause we overslept!" Kinda bummed, too, because I wanted to go to church... So, fine, I need a person, sometimes. But *not* because there is a scary green monster in my trash.

Seriously, I know that Oscar made green monsters in trashcans this "safe" kid friendly thing, but that is freaking terrifying. I'm convinced that we should be teaching kids to run the heck away if big green talking monster comes out of your trashcan. They certainly shouldn't want to sit down and have a chat about how grumpy he is. If Cookie Monster has to admit that cookies are a "sometime food" why does Oscar get a free pass on the creepy furry dumpster diving?? I mean what even is he? Is he really a monster or is he like mold that has evolved googly eyes and a mouth... and eyebrows. And why is everyone ok with him just creeping on this lovely Street of Sesame?

Just look at him.... even when he's happy he's like creepy happy. Come here little children! Let me pull you into my trashcan where you can become like me!

Also apparently in Season 1 of Sesame Street he was orange and then he randomly changed colors and everyone was fine with this.

No, wait I'm sorry, it wasn't random. I've researched it and according to Oscar, "Most of the family was orange. But I had a lovely vacation in Swamp Mushy Muddy resort. It was so dark & dreary I kind of turned green. It's mostly moss. I like it — it goes with my eyes. I accidentally took a bath once, turned orange again & washed all the moss off, so I went right back to Swamp Mushy Muddy, and here I am."

He IS evolved mold. I'm convinced.

Even if he isn't evolved mold, he is a creepy trashcan grumpy pants who dwells in the street, is covered in moss and slime so much that he has turned a different color, and never bathes. And we are telling children that this is cool?

I call shenanigans.

Run, children. Run as far and as fast as you can- yelling all the while.

A pictorial blog

I was feeling bored and sad that I had nothing to do today and no one to do it with.

And then I said, "Oh please, Renée, grow up. You have lots of things to do and you don't need anyone else to do them with."

And then I was like, "Yeah! You're right! I don't need anyone to get stuff done!"

So then I:

Took out the trash.

Yes, I normally hold the trash that far away from my body and look that irritated when taking it out.

   Changed the light bulb in my ceiling fan that burnt out 2 weeks ago.

Shortness *not* exaggerated

 Replaced the battery in yet another smoke detector that started beeping like a week ago- (also in the middle of the night, but this one was much nicer to me when it came to being reinstalled on the ceiling.)

Neither is the tongue. It's a proven fact that sticking your tongue out helps you reach things.

 Rearranged my bedroom.

I seriously looked *exactly* like this...well, except I wasn't wearing blue shoes.

 Washed and dried my sheets and made my bed.

My quilt is actually a green toilé, but I don't have that much patience to draw it...
However, the height of the bed compared to me is accurate. I literally jump into bed at night.

 Did dishes.

This slightly bemused, happy expression is never actually on my face while doing dishes.

Swept and mopped the kitchen and bathroom floors.

This expression, though, is on my face while mopping all the time.

Hung new art and rearranged some other pieces.

Yes, I stand with one foot crossed over the other while evaluating art in my own home. That's how pretentious I can be.

Rearranged several shelves of knick-knacky things.

All knick-knacks based on actual knick-knacks in my home.

And I didn't need anyone to help me do those things.

Oh sure, having someone around might have been helpful if...

The shelves fell on me.

 Or all the pictures started falling off the walls

 Or I slipped in a puddle on the floor and broke both my arms and both my legs.

Or I was washing the dishes with some sort of radioactive slime that made a really big splash and got in my eyes.

Or a Black Widow spider decided to get all cozy in my newly made bed and brought all it's black widow babies.

 Or I got trapped under my mattress

 Or the chair fell while I was reinstalling the smoke detector.

Or I got electrocuted while putting in the new light bulb.

 Or a scary green monster decided he wanted to eat me instead of my trash.

 

But none of those things happened, so I was just fine.

You know, apart from being my normal quirky little self.