It is cold here in Utah. Windy too. The leaves are nearly all yellow, red, orange, brown -- anything but green. It smells like autumn and mixed with that smell is this feeling that something is incredible is about to happen. It overwhelms me at times, and I can't place it. I can't figure out what it means or where it's coming from, unless it's coming from the leaves and the cold and that smell. That smell. It can only be described by the feeling it infuses into me, and that, unfortunately for you, is indescribable. It is good though. Very good.
[OK, so I took this photo today and the leaves on these trees are green still, but that doesn't negate the fact that's it's cold (there's snow up on Y Mountain) and it smells. Like autumn. And stuff.]
I want to watch "You've Got Mail." There are summertime movies ("Sandlot," for example) and there are too many wintertime movies to even begin to name them all (I like "Little Women," "While You Were Sleeping" and "Elf" quite a lot), but not too many movies can be classified as "autumn time." But Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks walking the streets of New York City and saying lines that are permanently affixed to my gray matter? That is an autumn time movie.
I bought a shower curtain today at the dollar store. Two of them, actually, because, well, they were only a dollar. I never realized how much I loved the dollar store until I actually started paying close attention to my budget. OK, OK, that's a lie. I never really had a budget before. Ha ha haaaaa, man I'm a failure.
I read blogs. But mostly I look at them. And I've noticed, a lot of bloggers post blurry pictures. It's like, "Here's a picture of my best friend's daughter. Isn't she cute?" And you think, "Well, maybe. Except I can't see her. She seems to have been running away from you at the time your shutter opened." Yet some how, they make it seem "artistic." Boo. It's not. Learn to use your flash, for crying out loud.
[Look. A not blurry picture. This is my brother's car. He's selling it. Just so you know.]
I've decided to start recording written depictions of the people I encounter at work. They are fascinating, in both appearance and action. I've spent so long at a university filled with, albeit nice people, very homogeneous. But now I have a whole newsroom filled with people so different than myself, I can't help but write down what I observe.