Subarus Love the Snow

That may be true, yes. I on the other hand hate snow. I never grew up around winter sports because my parents never knew how to ski, so unfortunately I've never been able to really appreciate the winter for what it offers most people. Coming to American in '92 their primary focus wasn't learning how to navigate Shawnee Peak, so I never took to the slopes with other kids. To this day I've tried learning to snowboard a maximum of two times. Both times I left nervous, cold, and blue from my lack of appropriate attire. I'd give it a third try, but this time I want someone to show me the ropes and not dump me at the bunny slope with children who are kicking my butt.

I do love snow during the holidays, but that about sums up any positive feelings towards the cold white stuff. We're making the big move to TEXAS this year, which the squeeze and I are absolutely stoked about. With all this snow it makes me wish August was much closer though.

My Wrex will have to enjoy the snow while it lasts, because I'm determined to make this the last snow she ever sees. Goodbye temps in the single digits, freezing rain, icicles, shoveling out my car at 7am, falling on my face on black ice, and frozen snot. Hellooooo Southern heat.

Home Sweet Home

I love our little apartment. It's cozy, charming, bright, and cheery. Located practically downtown, we're just a walk away from most of our favorite spots. The building has an old spooky mansion feel to it with gothic accents on the exterior, in the summertime vines envelope it making it even creepier. We wouldn't change a thing though!

I try to use colorful things in our little domain, it helps this time of year to have something other than white to stare at. All those pretty flowers, courtesy of the squeeze, definitely cheer up the space even more.

Even with the constant view today of Storm Juno from our big bay living room windows, the coziness prevails.

Lazy Sunday

Lazy Sunday's are the best. Usually I forget that it's supposed to be "lazy" and end up running around doing errands. I'm a little neurotic like that. On rare occasions when I do sit back and relax, I realize just how nice it can be to simply chill out. The squeeze is always telling me I need to learn how to do that.

Now that we've created a traditional Sunday Gelato Night, I have definitely been able to chill out. Gelato Fiasco in downtown Portland is our favorite spot. On tonight's menu I opted for pistachio, fresh cream, lemon cream cookie, and cake batter.

Uh-mazing.

A perfect way to end a lazy Sunday!

That Face

This is how I feel every morning that I'm required to get up early; dazed and confused. Pig does a great job reflecting my inner monologue via her facial expressions. I'm not sure what her deal is or why she looks so tired, she's a cat. I mean, I'm sure it's a full-time gig being adorable all the time, but come on.

I've always wanted to be a morning person, I rather like the idea of getting up early enough in the day where I can accomplish everything I set out to do and then some. But I'll tell you something, getting up before the sun is even awake just doesn't seem natural. Even after eight hours of hibernation, once that alarm summons me it feels like I just went to sleep mere minutes ago. 

Ugh. It's a constant battle I have with myself; get up early and accomplish all my tasks, or get sleep drunk.

It doesn't help that for Christmas the squeeze got me this amazing flannel comforter cover from LL.Bean. It's like sleeping under a wonderful down flannel cloud. I'm also insistent on leaving the temps low at night so I can sleep comfortably (thank my dad for his frugalness and never turning the heat on so you were required to sleep in a snowsuit), so when it's time to crawl out of bed the chilly floors and air nip at you.

Long story short, I am not a morning person, but strive to become one.

Flowers Warm the Soul

They really do. I love flowers, they cheer me up instantly. The only time I was ever lucky to receive such a pretty thing was either from my dad on my birthday, or once in middle school my best friend and I exchanged single carnations for Valentine's Day celebrations during lunch.

This beautiful bouquet of crisp white roses came from the most generous and kind guy that I know. My squeeze, as I've dubbed him, has on more than one occasion brought home flowers simply "just because."

They brighten our apartment up tremendously!

Thank you, to my squeeze, for always brightening me up.

Shiny Red Apple

I'll be the first to admit I'm in love with my car. I have no shame. Everyone, I'd like for you to meet, Scarlett Johansson. No, not the actress. This is the name I've picked for my car. Again, no shame.

Ever since I developed an interest in anything auto, I've been dying to get a "sports" car of my own. You can all keep your Corvettes and Porches, I'm perfectly content with my loud and abrupt rally car. It's the first manual I've ever owned, and I couldn't be happier with a 6-speed. Not that the convenience of driving an automatic downtown isn't nice (getting stuck going up State St. during rush hour in a "hand-shaker" is one of the worst things I've experienced), but I really love the feeling of throwing the car into gear. 

It was a goal I set out to accomplish and I totally achieved it *hallelujah*.

Sometimes I miss my old Lulzer with its astonishingly bright yellow neon 18" wheels... but then I remember I traded it in just as the tranny was about to go... and then I cringe and think how lucky I was... and then I stop missing it. Ok, that's not true. That car will always be special to me: bright blue with blinding rims, you could see it from 12 miles away and everyone recognized it.

I waited five months for the new car while it was being built and shipped over from Japan. It felt like the longest wait in history. I'm sure people have waited much longer than me for much more important things... but five months for a car is pretty long. Totally worth is though!! I love love love it. This is not the last you will see of Scarlett Johansson. 

I promise.

New Collection

           

I've always wanted a collection of artwork, preferably not of my own (although I do like to occasionally toot my own horn). I've always wanted to have a wall filled to the edges with paintings, drawings, hearty sketches, etc. A piece from all 50 states would be ideal.

I finally took the plunge and purchased this adorable little oil still life on Etsy. It hails from Montrose, Colorado from an artist named Pamela Munger. It's relatively small, about 5x7, and is painted on a beveled wood panel.

I love my newest little art addition! Even though it does look a little like a poorly painted tennis ball (these are the words of a comical friend, not mine).

In a world where everything doesn't cost a million dollars, I would already have four walls filled with artwork of sorts. Unfortunately, this is reality and even small pieces like this cost quite a bit.

*le sigh*

Why does art have to be so expensive?? I should probably know the answer to this Q seeing as how I ended up with a Fine Arts degree. Frankly, I don't though. Perhaps I should start selling my art out the wazoo just so I can afford to pay other artists out the wazoo. Sounds like a vicious cycle.

Anyhoo, cheers to at least taking the first step towards this goal. Only 49 more states to go.