I love vintage!

This afternoon in the middle of yet another fabulous Monday, I was handed a pleasant surprise.
It was in fact a beautiful, dull black Polaroid camera.
It reminded me of being 7, playing tennis in the back yard (hitting the ball against the wall of the garage). My parent's brown Datsun wagon and pictures of my first puppy, Fritz - standing on the tree stump in our front yard.
I ogled it with glee, and said "OH MY GOSH, DOES IT WORK??"
She took the camera, flipped it open, snapped a picture of me and Voi La!
A few shakes and 5 minutes later there I was - imaged on the finest Polaroid paper the 80's made!
It is big, clunky, has the worst color quality ever AND instant gratification!
It was the highlight of my Monday.

The Top 10 Things My Parents Taught Me.

1. Don’t lie.
2. No cheating. If you can’t win fair and square then just don’t play.
3. Always finish your veggies and milk, you may not like them now but they will help you in the long run.
4. Tell people how you feel, no one can read your mind.
5. Always try to talk things out. Fighting never provides solutions.
6. Share.
7. Don’t be afraid to try something new unless it’s drugs.
8. Treat people with love and respect even when it’s not reciprocated.
9. If you are to be somewhere at a certain time, be there. Not 5 minutes before and not 5 minutes late.
10. If you say you’re going to do something – DO IT.

Welcome Home

Today marked the end of the second week I've lived alone, although I'd hardly say I've been alone.
Today I tried to remember a day since I moved that someone hasn't been at my place.
I'm not too sure there has been. I admit, I have loved, treasured and relished in every moment. Waking up with friends in the house, more friends arriving, a fresh pot of coffee, the sound of my knife as it slices through potatoes and the sound of bacon love sizzling in the pan while Nikki stands its guard. Breakfast at "my" place has become rather a Sunday tradition (when time allows).
My new place. I love this place. It's small and cozy and mine all mine. It's far from the picture perfect homes in which I have lived in the past but I believe it actually embraces me as I walk through the door. "Welcome home" I say every time I top my stairs and in it's own way, it answers back.

COMING SOON

New blogs coming soon to the Pinwheel Princess.

"Welcome home"
"Sex and the Ghetto"
"One friend at a time" (A monthly post, I hope. You'll see)

blog blog blog

A few of you have been asking me to update this blog site. Sheesh – ok – ok – ok.
Truth is you all know I have been in a crappy mood since the mid-November.
A break-up, the holidays (I hate the holidays) and a move (which was great – except for the actual MOVING part.)
You’ve all heard about it and you all know the story so why write about it?
I’ve had nothing nice to say.
But finally, about a week and a half ago, my icy attitude took a turn toward the warmer side.
Finally, from the cozy warmth of my new apartment (which is FABULOUS!) I felt the tingle.
I remember the moment well; it was New Year’s Eve and I was off work. It was the 2nd morning I had woken in MY place. I brewed a pot of coffee and sat at my computer chatting with the girls. This is what I’d waited 6 months for. It was peaceful. AnnaMarie was at work and we had decided to have lunch.
I picked her up from the library and we headed to 3rd St. Stuff.
AnnaMarie.
This woman . . . I could try to explain her but there are no words. Well, maybe a few. She’s one of those people you love with your whole being. She can melt a bad mood with her hugs, lift your heart with her voice and fill your belly with potatoes. Almost immediately the words came from her mouth, “Girl, it is SOOOO good to see you happy.” Initially I thought – “Well, hell!!! I slept in, it’s New Year’s Eve, I have a great new place, I’m NOT at work, I have a latté in front of me and one of my dearest friends! If this won’t put me in a good mood I may as well dissolve into the concrete!”
But I knew what she meant.
And I know as well as anyone that happiness is a choice. We make it every moment of every day.
It was a long month – December.
There are still things that I miss with my whole heart every day . . . but I missed me more.