By Definition

I often wish I was more organized.

This desire applies to all areas of my life, really, but when it comes to writing I often wish I was as crazy-organized and "defined" as some of the blogs I heart the most. Blogs like Dooce and Girls Gone Child and Mighty Girl.

I am not that organized, and this blog doesn't have so clear a purpose. It remains a place to simply vent out some of what is in my head and my heart and my life. I think I'm learning to accept that.

I wish I could post photos of cute outfits I put together, but the truth is that - while I own a fairly impressive shoe collection (which lately includes a pair of vintage cow-girl boots) - most of the time I can be found wearing some variation of jeans, shirt from Kohls (hey, we have but one department store here in the sticks, and we are grateful for that much) and sneakers.

And by sneakers, I probably mean the Hanna Montana brand slip-on black canvas sneakers that had rivet hearts on them, which I removed with plyers after purchasing them at Walmart. A fashion plate I am not these days.

But there are the rare and glorious occasions that call for breaking out the clothes that remind me that once upon a time I felt like a Pretty Girl. So once in a while I'll try to post a picture of those moments. If I remember -- since, as we have established, I am not so organized or good at remembering to "Do Things".

Trip and I also love to cook -- when we have time. That second part is the trick. Tonight, for example, I got back from soccer practice with the boys and stared blearily into the depths of our refrigerator, past mushy strawberries and wilted spinach. With a limited window before Cub Scouts, I finally opted for deli roast beef sandwiches and potato chips. It wasn't gourmet, but it was fast, cheap, and easy. (There's a joke about my character in there somewhere, but I'll leave it for the gatherers of such low-hanging fruit...)

On the nights we manage to pull it together enough to work out dishes like peruvian chicken, or homemade sushi, or lamb rogan josh with saffron rice, though... I will attempt to share that with you.

Basically, rather than a steady diet of brilliant and interesting things happening in my life, this is more like a buffet line of rants about laundry and wondering when my muffin top earned its own zip code. I may wish I could define it as something more cohesive... something with more of a purpose... but, let's be real, people. It is what it is, and filled with flaws... pretty much just like me. In both cases, I am working on learning to be just fine with that.