The Year of Mary Anna

Tonight, I love being single. I'm watching a Sex and the City rerun on TBS. It's the episode where Carrie and the gang are invited to Bitsy Von Muffling's wedding. Carrie finds out that Jack Berger broke up with his girlfriend and they make a connection. Aside from Big, Berger (Ron Livingston) is my favorite Carrie Bradshaw boyfriend. Even moreso than Aidan. Berger is sufficiently nerdy-yet-witty, for my taste.

I'm drinking Lipton's new Pyramids in White Tea with Island Mango and Peach. The flavor is great, but the gossamer mesh tea infusers aren't as good in quality as Tea Forte brand. Quite a bit of sediment is floating at the bottom of my mug, but for the price, they're a decent value.

I'm sitting on my couch. Kip is propped up on my left leg, and Jack the B.C. is stationed on my right leg. He's following the mouse cursor across the screen and is mildly entertained.

I cooked tonight for the first time in a long time. I made Picante Chicken and asparagus. I often forget how much I love to cook until I'm able to pick it back up again. I'm very possessive of my time right now. Last year, I gave all of my time to other people. When I went to use some time for myself, it wasn't there. I won't make the same mistake this year. This year, I will cook.

I will also knit. A lot. I have been knitting for two years now, and I only know one stitch. I've made approximately 25 to 30 scarves during this time, yet only one of them was for yours truly. This year, I will learn to purl. And I will learn to make a baby blanket or mittens.

I've been doing a bit of pre-spring purging in the Aspen Bungalow. With the purge went some picture frames that I'd had since high school. You know, the ones with smiley-faced flowers and declarations like "Best Friends." I'd been hanging on to them out of convention. I always put off buying things like nice picture frames because my life, as it is now, isn't "permanent." You buy "permanent" things for your "home" when you get married and have wedding photos and kid portraits from Olan Mills. Well folks, I finally got tired of pretending like my life isn't permanent. It is what it is---and that means that I went to Hobby Lobby tonight and bought a stack of new picture frames for my apartment.

Monday night, I made a comment to Sarah that my New Year's resolution is to focus strictly on myself. I said it's like the Seinfeld episode, where George gets a severance package from the Yankees, and decides to pursue his own interests (like eating a block of cheese while watching tv partially nude). He declares it "the Summer of George!" I tell Sarah, "it's the Year of Mary Anna!"

Things may change tomorrow, but at 10:34 p.m. CST, I'm happy. And I'm done blogging for the evening, just in time for another rerun of SATC, this time on ABC. It's the episode where Carrie and Samantha travel to San Francisco via train for Carrie's book signing. When they get there, Carrie realizes that she's "opening" for Mr. Winkle. Everytime I see Mr. Winkle, I think of my good friends, Amy and Nathan. They have a pomeranian, named Sampson, who I think resembles Mr. Winkle. Nathan doesn't believe that Mr. Winkle is a real dog, and it was a hotly debated topic of ours in the past. Not to mention, Nathan doesn't like me to compare Sampson to Mr. Winkle because of Mr. Winkle's obvious deformities.

That is all.