My greasy hair

My lovely roommate pointed out that I don't take showers very often.

He says to me, as I'm lounging in my bed at 3 pm (still in my pj's) "I think you need a shower, kiddo."
I pull my blankets over my head and enjoy my warm cocoon I have established after hours of sleeping in. Get up? Now?

Grrrrrrr.

So I sit back and reminisce of my night last night. I went to a beautiful potluck that my dear friend Katy hosted (and I posted a recipe for my honey pumpkin pie, a dish I made!). Everyone brought something equally yummy. I was so full. I made a little social faux pas, however. Katy created this adorable "thankful tree" where everyone write on a post-it what they're thankful for. Most people wrote down "friends," "family," or "happiness." Silly me, being so selfish, I said loud and proud "birth control." Then ensued a sea of silence. Unbeknownst to me, Katy's roommate's friends are catholic. Whoops. Hell, at least I was honest.

After I recovered from fullness and humility, I was lucky enough to see my best friend, Andrew Greenwood. He just came home from Savannah College of Art and Design. He is studying photography. I can't get enough of him. Whenever we see each other, we can't help but embrace. It is pure love. I am blessed. We sat outside of Fermentation Lounge, stroking each others thighs. For being gay, we have so much sexual chemistry. Or perhaps just a lot of love for each other. We talked about how much we love the documentary "The September Issue," about the crazy world of Vogue editors. he quoted the flamboyant André Leon Tolley (Google him right now).

"My eyes are STARVING for beau-TEE!!!" Oh yes. Keep going.

Who else can I talk to about this but Andrew? I mean, seriously?? Our hedonistic lifestyles are compatible. We always refer to each other as the "girthy wood nymphs." Yeah that's us. WHAT.

He knows aesthetics, design, color and angles. He is the social glue of Tallahassee, yet he's taking Savannah by storm. He is the more likable Regina George. He is one of a kind. My king. My lumberjack. My partner in crime.

Bedroom

Ok, I totally need to brag about my room for a minute. It is my sanctuary, where I spend most of my time. I keep it clean, simple and calm-inducing. But most of all, I am absolutely smitten by my vanity (on the right). My dear friend Hannah gave it to me when she moved away to Beirut, Lebanon. I miss her dearly, and every morning when I put on makeup, I think of her. I also love the giant oak tree in our back yard, that brings all sorts of beautiful shadows in the late afternoon.

Cinnamon

I've been spending a lot of alone time recently, more so than before. Often times these moments of solitude are filled with anger, sadness and regret. I know many people would kill for the amount of free time that I have, but I am becoming restless. I often feel alone and unloved. But I am growing tired of these feelings. I am tired of this pity party. I will still continue to blog about my feelings, but I don't want any sympathy anymore. I need to move on.

I have been starting to develop new tasks for myself to occupy my mind. I have rekindled my beautiful relationship with my mandolin, and I have been drawing again. I really love it. Something special that I have discovered, however, is my love of cooking. My dear friend Katy (who has a blog called "First Apartment Living"...check it out! http://thefirstapartment.blogspot.com/) inspired me to document my endeavors and experiments with my hobbies. I have to thank her for all her inspirational creativity. And speaking of Katy, today she is hosting a Thanksgiving potluck, and I am bringing something I just sorta made up on a whim. It's one of my favorite dishes for fall...pumpkin pie! Except I added a little twist of honey and other various spices to really make it my own. I'm going to show you my recipe and please tell me what you think!

Darrah's Honey Pumpkin Pie

Serves 8

Ingredients:

-1 (15 oz) can 100% pure pumpkin
-1 cup evaporated milk
-2 large eggs
-1/4 cup honey
-2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice (1 tsp. cinnamon, 1/2 tsp. ground all spice, 1/2 tsp. ground cloves)
-3 generous tbsp. dark brown sugar
-1 (9-inch) ready-to-bake pie crust

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F
2. In a large bowl, whisk together pumpkin, evaporated milk, eggs, honey, pumpkin pie spice and brown sugar
3. Pour mixture into pie crust (I sprinkled some extra cinnamon and a pinch of brown sugar on the top...why not?)
4. Bake 50-60 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center of pie comes out clean
5. Cool completely before serving. Pumpkin pie is usually served room temperature, or perhaps a little cooled. Store the leftovers in a refrigerator.
6. Top with a dollop of cool whip or any sort of whip cream!

Hope y'all enjoy. I know I will!

Come one, come fall

I feel the urge to blog for the second time today. And I'm making no apologies.

I have discovered beautiful new things.

I did not cry this morning upon waking in the first time in weeks. It is always a battle for me to lift myself out of bed. My spirit is heavy, my head is mushy and my feet are cold. But most importantly, my heart aches. I will usually stare at my ceiling until I have no more time to contemplate going to class, and just do it (mostly). I take a long walk to the bus stop and notice how everyone enjoys being antisocial. That's OK with me for now, I would rather not discuss things with strangers. This is a recent occurrence. I just don't want to talk to anyone.

 But not this morning.

For the first time in months, I popped open my eyes 5 minutes before the alarm. I slid out of bed and opened up my French door closet and grabbed my long black dress that I usually wear when playing pool at the Warehouse. I wore my favorite bra and felt great, then applied some pink lipstick. My hair was curlier than it had been in months and my face was smooth. I wasn't quite happy, but I wasn't dreading the simple day ahead. I was excited to listen to a new song on my iPod.

Yesterday this handsome man asked me out to lunch after class. He has always sat right behind me in our class. He would occasionally mutter comments about various subject matter that would crack me up. He is intelligent and honest. I rarely had the courage to turn around and look at him in the eye. I noticed him recently when we had to do an in-class group assignment. He leaned forward in his chair and said "hey, mind being in my group?" I turned around and nodded. I am sometimes painfully shy. I turned my chair around and we examined an article together and discussed topics at hand. I could smell his cologne. I was getting distracted. That little voice in my head was saying "you slut, you just got out of a relationship. What are you doing?" (If you haven't noticed, I am sometimes very harsh on myself.) We had three other people in our group. When I spoke, he held a gaze. Then he said something funny and I snorted. I hate when I do that. He had a big smile on his face, as if he didn't care that I am shy dork. I later would sneak glances behind me, doing a nonchalant stretch or reaching into my backpack. "I am so suave," I would tell myself. "Just remain collected."

We grabbed pizza in the student union, and I got to talk to him about all sorts of stuff. I held my hand over my mouth, because I was embarrassed of my braces. He asked me why I was doing this, and told me to stop. I felt comfortable. We took a long walk around the university, enjoying each others' company. We proceeded to hang out at his place. I saw his beautiful old house. We drank beers, kissed, hugged and told each other how sexy we think each other is. It was fun. It gave me butterflies. Something new and exciting. Oh, to be young and free. And to finally feel good about myself again...

Death and Rebirth

It was one hell of a day yesterday. My dog that I've had since I was six was put to sleep. She had been experiencing sever dementia and couldn't control her hind legs when she walked. It was time for her to go. I do miss her. Reflecting upon this semester, I have had many losses. I am hoping that one day soon this will pass. I am ready to move on from the suffering. I suppose that is the first step.

Cafés and Bars

In times of suffering, I have always found that friends are the best medicine. They truly are remarkable. Every one of them.

Yesterday Melissa and I grabbed coffee from Black Dog café. We talked about relationships, friendships, school and wine. And after her class we studied at Red Eye coffee shop for a bit (yes, another coffee shop!) and grabbed drinks at Water Works. Melissa is the kind of gal who is adorably assertive. Her fashionable outfits always compliment her sense of honesty and compassion. And she laughs at my dorky jokes. I love her.

Later that evening I met up with Kate at St. Mikes. The moment I saw her, she had a huge smile on her face. Kate is one of those people who just gets you. Since we've become friends, she always tells me how much she loves me. Usually being shy, she has blossomed. She always wears simple, yet elegant dresses that reveal her detailed leg tattoos of shells and animals. Between taking turns in playing pool, she would walk over and hug me. What a sweetheart. 

Cold Wind

It's been a difficult week. I am noticing how much my neck tenses (which is constantly). Is this part of aging? And I am noticing how cold my house always is. Its hard to wake up in the morning, to plunge out of my warm cocoon of blankets into the cold air in my bedroom. The hardwood floor creaks and I stumble into the kitchen to make a warm pot of coffee.

Tuesday night Alex came over. He was locked out of his house and I had his spare house key. My heart was pounding, I wasn't ready to see him. But I did. He approached me in the dark. It was almost 1 am. The wind was blowing and rattled my bones. My heart felt ill. He asked me how things were. I replied with a quivering "OK," which was a lie. Then I started crying hysterically. He hugged me for a while, rocking me back and forth, kissed my cheek and said "it'll be alright, baby." Then we said goodbye. Again.  And I watched his car drive away into the night.