February 19, 2013

Love To Love You, Baby & Sexy Spaghetti Bolognese

I love Valentine's Day. Think about it; an entire day dedicated to celebrating affection and the accuracy of Cupid's arrows. Awesome, right? By the way, all you Debbie Downers out there who want to cut me short with some cranky spiel about 'consumerism'; back off. This is about candles, candy, and cuddles. And if you can't come to terms with that, you have a little piece of coal for a heart. 

I do have a confession to make, though. Penning this post has been a pretty perturbing process and I deliberately delayed dishing out details because I had no desire to dampen anyone's day. Besides, as tempted as I was to talk about all the tingly tenderness that is love, I was stymied by a small speed-bump. 

No, no, I don't lack love in my life and I'm not lonely. But I am a little lost.

Why? Well, let's start from the beginning.

See, before I write a rant, I revel in a little research. What does that entail? Frankly, nothing fancy. Typically, I browse through Brainy Quote, wander through Wikipedia, and get down to some Google-ing. I also engage inane activities, lolling around listening to music and tinkering with tiny thoughts, trying to transform them into awe-inspiring inspiration...or at least an inkling of it.

Warning: Reading up on romance may result in feelings of incredible inadequacy. 

I can't compete with impeccable dialogues and daring declarations. I don't have the money to build a monument for my man. Or the patience to wait for prince or peasant, alike. 

So basically, all I drew from those days of dawdling were a big blank and a bruised ego.

On the upside, I found an unbelievable avenue for over-simplifying my adoration for mi amour. To sum up my love life, I require exactly two movie soundtracks; Dirty Dancing and The Bodyguard (by the way, I mean the one with Kevin Costner). Sure, both are cheesy, but they're also Grammy winners and in my book, that's pretty credible crooning. Besides, with Whitney's voice and Swayze's swagger - just give me a second to swoon. 

Here’s how it goes. It all began with Hungry Eyes. You know how it goes; he looked at you, you looked at him…cue the fireworks. I then mustered the muscle to ask him to Be My Baby. “Of course,” he said, and so began the Time Of My Life. Now, we’re happily hitched, and when I look at him I think, I Have Nothing Without You. And when he hugs and holds me close, all I want to tell him is, I Will Always Love You.

Told you, two soundtracks are all it takes. Cool, right?

The truth is, talking about things that tug at the heart is harder than I thought. 

Maybe that’s because even after several days of my internet invasion, I realized I know a grand total of two things about love.

February 7, 2013

The Myth of The Motor-Mouth & Outrageous Brownies

I know, I know. I said I wouldn't be posting this week, but I've gotten used to our comfortably cozy chit-chats. And really, what is life without a little whining, right?

When I'm sick, I'm a serious sour-puss. I turn into the Grinch; groaning, griping and generally being grumpy. And during these incidents of illness, all I want to do is listen to sad, sappy music and spill my sickly sob-story to every sorry soul in sight. Sometimes, I really savor sucking some sympathy out of people. This time was different, though. I came down with a killer cough, which pretty much left my voice-box out of commission. Know what that means? My signature chatter was silenced.

Talk about a sinister scheme to shut me up, right?

Not fun.

Anyways, now, in my suffering, I have no choice, but to use you guys as stand-ins. You might suffer. You might feel sapped. But I assure you, you won't be sorry.

First off, in case it isn't obvious already, I'm a talker. Admittedly, my listening abilities are a little lackluster, but if you're looking for buckets of advice, I can be your best buddy. In fact, I'm a total sucker for stories that need a little bit of sorting out. Maybe I should've been a psychologist?

The point is, when it comes to babbling on blindly, I can easily orate for hours.

I'll give you an example of what I mean, just so you're clear on the kind of joker you're dealing with here.