Hey Hey, February

So, I am fully recovered from my birthday of sadness. Now it's time to recover from my engageaversary! Stop looking confused. The engageaversary is a little term I coined (I think I did it, anyway) for those souls who find themselves in long-term engagements. Mine is on year four as of the eighth. Which means in July, we will have been engaged for a wee bit over half of our entire relationship. I find it utterly depressing and exasperating. To the point of never wanting to get married, ever. Really, these things are not meant to be drug out so damn long. Once the shine wears off, you're left with someone whom you're lucky if you can tolerate, you swear you should have eloped 3.5 years ago, you hate all brides, everywhere, and impending nuptials of friends and family send you into fits of rage and jealousy. Or is that just me? 

Yeah....I remember being excited over the thought of getting married. Somewhere around aught-nine. It was a simpler time. Simpler in that, I was filled with rage for totally different reasons. Halcyon days of 4 years ago.

Anyhoo, I am not all doom, gloom and homicidal rages currently. I actually kind of like this time of year. Sometimes the weather is nice, sometimes we get snow (ahem, ice), there is chocolate around every corner, and Easter is not too far away. It's the most wonderful time of the year, if you're into pastels. And I so am! Seriously, these early in the year holidays make me miss elementary school. Except for my inability to ever locate a prize egg during Easter hunts. Yes, I will carry this to my grave. I have more baggage than Samsonite. But yes, I adored the parties, the cupcakes, the arts and crafts involved in the days prior. I even liked addressing each and every valentine card to each and every classmate. As well as trying to pick out the one for each and every boy I had a crush on. It had to convey my exact feelings, but be subtle. Nothing says "I'd like to be more than just that fat girl you detest," like George Jetson relating our mutual happiness if nameless recipient would only be my valentine. Spoiler: no valentines for me until I was 24, and even then, it took almost 8 years to get my first heart full of chocolates. Russell Stover can be my valentine any day.

I'm pretty sure I actually handed out these one year. Partly because I recognized the one with Rosie, and partly because I've always hated the Flintstones.

In other news, I'm excited to announce to no one in particular, I have located green zinnias. Big friggin whoop, you may be thinking. It is to me, as last year I ordered some that never arrived. Which led to a months-long battle with Park Seed Co. But now I have my green zinnia seeds, which will go great with the purple ones, and I'm already excited for summer. Which hasn't happened since the 90s.