Around Here

Around here we’re hanging out at Busboys and Poets on Langston Hughes’ birthday. May I suggest the sweet potato pancakes with a side of “April Rain Song?”

Around here I don’t know how, but I convinced Jesse to dye my hair back to brown. Almost blond was fun.  Almost blond was real fun. But it was time for something else. (New readers, if you are wondering why I started with “I convinced Jesse,” read this post and you’ll understand.)

Around here this guy will be featured over at Coffee + Crumbs this month.  Sweet Bear. I love you, little guy.

Around here we’re taking trips to the library on snow days and seeing what there is to see.  Last week there was a “Guess How Many Chocolate Kisses Are In the Jar” contest. One girl guessed 999. Another guessed, “thousand.”

Around here I’m reading and re-reading “Hard Candy,” Candace Bergen’s reflection on being Murphy Brown.  She describes perfectly how great it is to play the part of somebody you desperately want to be and that, if given enough practice, you might be someday.  There are so many interesting parts to this essay, but what I love the most is the anecdote about Murphy Brown being 40, and stepping into the office after having been at Betty Ford.  This made the executives uncomfortable and they suggested Murphy be 30, coming back from a month at the spa, and perhaps be played by Heather Locklear. Diane English, who came up with Murphy Brown’s character, said no way.  “The whole point of Murphy was that she had crossed 40 and was at the top of her profession but [was] decidedly flawed, an alcoholic.”  Decidedly flawed. I adore that phrase.

Speaking of decidedly flawed, around here we are eating donuts. I love you, donuts. Come over any time.

Around here I walked around Old Town Alexandria one afternoon. I love me some uneven brick sidewalks, row houses, and towns by the water. I also love my blue suede shoes and I know I was pushing spring wearing them but the sun was shining and they match my coat. I’m ashamed that I like the bold, sort of trashy, sort of ridiculous stuff of life, but I think I’m finding out that the grace in my life is God saying, “Go on and get it, girl. You wear those shoes with your too blond highlights and your gel manicures. You’re teaching Shakespeare to 8th graders. See? You can play the part of somebody you want to be someday and I’m saying you’re doing fine with your decidedly flawed self. Walk those uneven brick roads with those high heels.”