mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful

I've been on a cleaning spree. And I don't just mean in my room. I try to keep my room tidy, but it's hard since it's so tiny and one pile of stuff on the floor takes up half the floor space and makes it looks as though a hurricane has passed through it, but I have been much better about keeping it up. It's not like a lot of people go into my room so it's not really for appearance's sake, but I've noticed that the condition of my personal space is often a reflection of how I am handling my own affairs. I guess I mean that I've been doing more spring cleaning in my personal life - airing things out - and oh boy does it feel awesome. I feel lighter - just in time for spring. I'm less weighed down by stuff that I didn't realize were pressing on me before, and I find I've been appreciating the little things a lot more.

I love spring, ee cummings, and William Blake; when ee cummings writes a poem about springtime, alluding to a collection of poems by Blake, it seems natural that I would be a fan right?


in Just-
spring    when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles    far    and wee

and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer
old balloonman whistles
far    and    wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's spring
and the goat-footed
balloonMan    whistles
far
and
wee 

Right.

I follow PostSecret auf Deutsch (I already knew this, but man are Germans emo) as well as PostSecret. I wanted to post this on another, interesting, possibly-but-maybe-not-necessarily darker note...I think this secret is more prevalent among people than one may think (though maybe not quite so extreme):

I can see where he's coming from, but God-forbid this person gets his wish, I'm sure he will change his mind.


I just reread my entry and noticed that I begin so many sentences with personal pronouns. I notice these kinds of things being the convention nut that I am and would find it to be unacceptable in a paper, but it's my blog and I can "I" if I want to, bizznatches. Now that it's written, I recall saying something like this before in previous entries. Maybe that's an indication that I'm still a wee bit self-conscious about it? Hah. Who knows?


I miss the fruit trucks at Temple.


I'm homesick.


I love having pets (even if I'm just the aunt). D and I have been getting along lately, which is really nice...and it means I get to go see my fats more often. I miss Kiki and Ike so much. 


Yesterday I went to Chestnut Hill Coffee for the first time, and I enjoyed the best latte ever. Visually too:

It was perfect as-was. Perfect. There were no sugars, flavored syrups, extras of any kind...nothin'. Just steamed 2% milk, stellar espresso, and a dollop of the most artful foam I've ever seen:

I felt a little silly taking pics with my phone for the sole purpose of sharing the experience on my blog...but I'm glad because looking at them makes me remember it so vividly I can taste it and enjoy it all over again. It's nice to get a lot of satisfaction from small pleasures, right?


Today is Berly's birthday. I care about her so much that sometimes it surprises me. My completely unabashed affection, acceptance, and esteem are usually reserved for my family and very very very few people with whom I am close...I hope she feels truly celebrated today - not that she shouldn't every day - because she's one of the most special people I've ever met and deserves it. Also, I hope she enjoys the chocolate raspberry cupcakes. By the way, cupcakes are all the rage these days...I wonder when it became such a fad.


I could SO go for one of Porkchop's red velvet cupcakes, now that my mind is on cupcakes. Om nom nom.


I ate eggs for breakfast, and PG Tips are (is?) da bomb diggity. Especially in this mug.