1. My creativity feels like it has been a furnace that has been turned off because winter hasn’t been cold enough to get it going. Now it feels like the pilot light has completely gone out. In an effort to ignite some heat, I’m doing Seven Sentences a Weekday in February.
2. I am honored to be a part of such a prestigious journal, but I do wish I knew what my authors were talking about. These genetics papers make me miss my astrophysics and particle physics of Physical Review D.
3. I woke up this morning having dreamt that I caught Sam kissing his ex-girlfriend as if we weren’t together. Talk about a crap-a-doodle start to the day, even if he was there to reassure me otherwise. Dream interpreters care to take a stab?
4. I am leading my small group at church on Wednesday night and I am supposed to share my story, using three key figures and three key events as a guideline. I am wondering what parts of my story I wish to share with this intimate group.
5. Tomorrow night I am taking myself on a date to see New Year’s Eve with my other boyfriend, Ashton Kutcher. That beard and that long hair make me want to jump his bones…or at least give him a long, strong hug, slipping my hands under his sweater to cop a feel.
6. I bought an elliptical machine off of craigslist for $40. Sam hauled it up three flights of stairs and put it together for me, so now I am guilted into using it so his efforts were not wasted. That and I am still determined to beat him at our weight loss contest, even if I did have a chili dog for dinner.
7. The kids are at Disney World this week and I am only slightly jealous that the girls get to meet the princesses without me. I’m glad they get to experience it, but I do wish I could see their faces light up when Ariel makes an appearance.

I love you all, some more than others.

1. The Giants won. Which means last year’s tactic of cheering for the quarterback whom I’d rather sleep with resulted in me siding with the losers this year.
2. I loved the Betty White The Voice commercial. That and the dog bribing the dude with Doritos, which was done by a Cincinnatian. Hometown pride. Oh. And the Chevy post-apocalyptic one with the nod to Zombieland with the Twinkies. Pop culture brilliance.
3. Super Bowl parties are fun. The food is great. The company is great. The host is great. If only it wasn’t on a Sunday.
4. No more football for eight months. The season always seems too short to me.
5. Madonna: I wouldn’t go gay for her, but damn those thighs. I couldn’t take my eyes off of what should be illegal on a fifty year old.
6. Post-party shenanigans include snuggling up in bed–he on his iPad, me on my MacBook Pro, reading the Oatmeal together. I can take 21 Justin Biebers in a fight.
7. For the record, we rock at making Super Bowl snacks. Port wine and blue cheese dip with crostini and chocolate caramel triangles. Both from his extensive cookbook collection–which he actually uses. *sigh*.

I love you all, some more than others.

1. On 90’s throwback weekends, the radio stations always use REM’s “Losing My Religion” and Soul Asylum’s “Runaway Train” as standbys. Better than Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up,” but still oh-so-predictable.
2. In a final-straw effort to get R to go to bed by herself, I told her to call on God when she is scared and He’ll send His angels down to be by her side and keep her from being afraid. She looked at me solemnly and said, “That’s fine, Mom, but I only want you.”
3. Her little sister clearly believes in angels, as she told me, “I had a stummyache but it’s all gone. It’s like an angel came down and got it and flew away with it.”
4. My guy’s name is Sam. You will be hearing more about him and I will refer to him simply as Sam. Because I’m not the Honey-wunny-sugar-pie-schnookums-bottom type.
5. I shall quote him often because he makes me laugh.
6. “I was out of dog food, so I went to the store and got some wine.” –Sam. Swigging from the bottle over Facetime to make his point.
7. Saying, “I love you,” for the first time is a pretty big deal. I’ve been known to throw it around a bit haphazardly, abiding by the Hard Rock Cafe credo of Love All, Serve All. While I still very much believe in that philosophy, I’ve taken a more conservative approach in my personal life lately. I thought I had it all very much under control until the other day when I was under the influence of some serious cold medication and was snuggled comfortably in Sam’s arms. As I drifted in and out of sleep, I mumbled incoherently and reaffirmed how much I loved his being tucked in his arm. And I may or may not have crossed the I love you bridge while high on Alka Seltzer Cold. Which is unfortunate because I have no clear memory one way or the other. If I didn’t, it was a very vivid dream in which I made this confession. Fortunately it was received well in my reverie. It hasn’t been repeated since, which lends itself to being a drug-induced dream, and there hasn’t been any awkwardness, which bodes well either way. I’m in no rush. I’m in touch with my feelings and he with his. When the time is right, the words will reflect what’s in our hearts and that milestone will be passed hopefully with lucidity and without the aid of over-the-counter medications. In the meantime, I’ll let him feed me the chocolate-dipped strawberries he made us, “just because.” Because for right now “just because” is just right.

I love you all, some more than others.