It's Fall, Y'all (Not Ya'll)

Fall is my favorite season. I'm warm-blooded by nature, so the weather turns just crisp enough for me to enjoy cozy scarves and sweaters without getting hot, sweaty, and gross. Another bonus? Layers. My favorite and most flattering fashion trend.

Lately (and by "lately," I mean during the last couple of years), I have found decorating to be really soothing. I don't even have to be the one decorating—just reading decorating blogs and looking at pretty pictures on Pinterest give me a calm feeling, plus it also energizes my mind and makes me want to get my butt in gear and make my home look clean and pretty. I would assume this is true for a lot of people; otherwise, why would HGTV and all these pretty little blogs be so popular?

So, second to the cooler weather (which hasn't quite hit us yet, but a quick glance at my iPhone weather app tells me temps are expected to drop starting on Tuesday—yahoo!), my favorite thing about fall is adding autumnal elements to my home: rustic colors and patterns, cozy throws, candles, and eventually...CHRISTMAS DECOR!!! (Which technically "falls"—heh heh—in winter, but honestly, fall decorating is just a warm-up for the holidays, isn't it?)

Here are some fall goodies my home is sporting right now:

My sister (and roommate) picked up this green Day of the Dead votive holder the other day at Target. She loves sugar skulls, whereas I often find them creepy (I know they're not supposed to be), but I have to admit this decoration is really, really cute. These also come in dark teal and magenta. I paired the skull with this cute little pumpkin I saw at the grocery store. I love its twisty stem!

I bought this votive holder yesterday at Tuesday Morning. When I saw it, I knew I had the perfect candle for it—this green votive that a friend gave me. I think it is from 5B & Co Brookside, but I'm not 100% sure because the label is no longer on it. Therefore, I also can't remember the exact scent, but it smells a little like pears (a fragrance that doesn't seem to be available on their website anymore, so all of this remains a mystery, really).

I rearranged some things on our mantel and put these tall vases (handmade by a friend of a friend of my sister's) in the corner with the little jack-o'-lantern in front. 

OK, this is my new favorite thing. I actually saw it at Hy-Vee of all places. I am usually not THAT into Halloween, especially spooky stuff, but the cute stuff I can handle. Like this adorable light-up ghostie with the mostie.

I told you I liked cute things. Target had little birds like this last year for Christmas, and I (of course) bought one. They have new Christmas ones out this year (yes, already) and several fall-ish ones, including this little fella with the newsboy cap and an orange bow tie. So sweet!

And speaking of sweet, every holiday/season can be easily decorated for with candy. I'm not a huge fan of candy corn (although I will eat it—it is sugar, after all), but I have always loved these mellowcreme pumpkins. They are just too damn cute. I love the way they taste, too, but they're so sweet that I can only eat two or three at a time. Which is actually a good thing. 

I liked Mason jars before they were cool (plus, my grandma has Mason jar drinking glasses from God knows how many years ago that we still use when we have dinner at her house, so there!). In my opinion, they will always be practical and beautiful. I mean, what else can make mellowcreme Halloween pumpkins look so classy?

And finally, another convenient accessory for fall is what we call Lucy's "orange toy." (Clever, huh?) A friend of my sister's gave two of these to us because her cat enjoys them. We are really not sure what they are supposed to be...our best guess is they are rings from milk or juice bottles. 

We leave one of the orange toys out at all times, because Lucy LOVES it. She uses it as a hockey puck through her scratching post "cave," she bats it around the legs of our table and chairs, she throws it up in the air so she can pounce on it (seriously), she carries it into my bedroom so she can play by herself while I'm getting ready in the morning, and she will even come up onto my bed with it while I'm still asleep so she can tell me "Mama, it's time to play!" Recently she has even started bringing it to us so we can throw it for her. Basically, she is a genius.

And on that note, happy fall, y'all! Grammar Quick Tip: Note the apostrophe in "y'all," which is a contraction of "you all." The apostrophe stands in place of the missing letters "o" and "u." Some people will spell this word as "ya'll," which TECHNICALLY could be correct if the original phrase was "ya all." But again, TECHNICALLY, "ya" is slang/an accent for "you," so the REAL original phrase is still "you all." Hence "y'all," not "ya'll." 

Don't you feel ready to celebrate fall properly now that you know that?

Why I RSVP "No" to Your Pity Party

It's not my intention to only post once a month, but that seems to be the pattern so far. Let's guess the reasons for this:
A. I'm lazy.
B. I don't have that many interesting topics to write about.
C. I'm lazy.
D. I'm boring and lazy.

Given that I'm too lazy to come up with other choices besides "I'm lazy" (although I'm hoping I don't have to spell out the fact that I also did that purposely for comic effect!), it's pretty obvious what the answer is. LAZINESS!

It's OK to be a little lazy. We all need that sometimes. I saw a poster on Pinterest lately that I found amusing:


(For sale at Zazzle.)

But seriously, I'm not here to mock laziness. I love sleeping in, sitting, and watching TV and/or surfing the Internet for hours. Garfield the cat is my spirit animal. Side note: Have you played the Garfield: Survival of the Fattest iPhone game yet? It's the follow-up to my FarmVille-loving days that I never knew I always wanted. (Bonus points if you get that Fools Rush In reference.)

Anyway, it may seem from my funny little quiz up there that I was maybe fishing for compliments, maybe throwing myself a little pity party. "Oh, my life is so boring and blah. I'm so lazy and worthless. No one wants to hang out with me."

Look. We all have issues. No matter how confident someone is (or appears to be), we each have moments of self-doubt. Narcissists may be an exception, but narcissism isn't really something to aspire to, you know? So that's OK.

However, there's a difference between knowing you're not perfect and letting everyone know you're not perfect all the damn time. I do not mean you should pretend you're perfect and that your shit don't stink. But the flipside, by being down on yourself all the time and always, ALWAYS acknowledging your flaws, is just as annoying.

Now, I will freely admit that I have fished for compliments. I think most people have—sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. And sometimes we do need to have a heart-to-heart with a close friend, relative, counselor, whomever, and just say, "I'm not feeling good about myself lately. Here's why." Or "I'm sorry I did _____. That was wrong of me." Or ask questions like "Do I look OK in this shirt?" (Although, again, if that is happening EVERY DAY, keep in mind you might be annoying your friends by asking them to approve your appearance.)

Getting other people's opinions is important, yes. But you are not going to please everybody. And you shouldn't please everybody. Like many fellow Pinners, I have a board designated for inspirational quotes (don't laugh, OK?!). One of my favorites says this: "If everybody likes what you are doing, you're doing it wrong." (A bit of Googling reveals the source of the quote to be artist Jen Bekman.)

Then there's this one: "Waiting for someone else to make you happy is the best way to be sad." I was—yes!—lazy with my Googling of this one, and I couldn't find an obvious source within the first couple of pages. But regardless of who originally said these words, they are some of the most encouraging words I've ever read. It especially speaks to me as a single person, because it reminds me that I am a complete, whole, worthy person without having a partner right now (or ever! You never know.).

Others can certainly make us happy. My parents, sister, grandparents, other family members, friends, and my cat all make me happy. This is more than OK; this is healthy. Just remember that when there's someone you can't please, someone you can't make happy and certainly isn't making you happy, this doesn't mean your worth is diminished.

And also remember—we all have flaws. Embrace them, yes. But advertising them, especially when you're using them as an explanation (read: crutch) as to why "bad" things are happening to you or why your life is not what you thought it'd be like right now, is not going to help you gain sympathy. Pity parties are best attended by only one person: you. A good place to have them is the shower, or maybe in the dim glow of the open refrigerator as you eat a spoonful of chocolate syrup. Keeping a (private) journal is another good choice.

Pity parties do serve a purpose. But please don't invite me to yours. I will not come, and I will not bring a gift.

A Defense of the Selfie + A Tip on Reflexive Pronouns

"Selfies" have a bad reputation. And let's face it (har har, FACE it? Pun originally not intended, but I love it!), it's kind of a stupid word.

Back in the day (about seven to eight years ago), I distinctly remember taking pictures of myself with my digital camera in my dorm room so I could have a semi-flattering profile picture for my fairly new Facebook page. I thought to myself, "Thank God for digital cameras." Because, you see, I could take dozens of pictures of myself—without wasting any film—in order to get that perfect pose.

One of my favorite inventions is the front-facing camera option on smartphones. It makes taking those flattering pictures of oneself so much easier. These cameras have a purpose beyond vanity—you can make sure you and your friend are both in the frame without one of you having half of your face cut off. You can preserve a memory of yourself in front of the Eiffel Tower without asking a friend (or stranger) a million times to try it again because your eyes looked manic or your third chin was showing. (OK, I admit that's a little vain.) You can even use it to take a picture of your cat if she's facing away from you.

OK...it may not be the best picture ever of your cat (probably because it was also taken at dusk). But you get the point.

(P.S. This cat is Eppie, and I will talk more about her later. She is no longer on this Earth, but she was a very special kitty.)

There's another way that the self-facing camera—and, therefore, the selfie!—is helpful.

We employ proofreaders at the company I work for (that's actually how I got my start there), and sometimes I come up with grammar tips and reminders for them. One month I was asked to teach them the correct way to use "myself." Customers were submitting articles with sentences such as "If you have any questions, please come see myself or another team member." Don't you just cringe when you read that sentence?

"Myself" is a reflexive pronoun. Other reflexive pronouns include: yourself, himself, herself, ourselves, themselves, etc. A reflexive pronoun reflects the subject of the sentence. (Hence, reflexive.) 

Examples:

I made myself a peanut butter sandwich.

The reflexive pronoun "myself" is correct in this case because it refers to the subject "I." I didn't make that peanut butter sandwich for anyone else. It is MINE, BITCHES.

It's a little easier to understand when using "himself" or "herself."

After the birthday party last weekend, James doesn't trust himself around cake anymore.

Using "himself" instead of "him" makes it clear that James doesn't trust James (himself!). Maybe Tony also gorged himself on cake, and so James doesn't trust Tony either. In that case, we'd say "James doesn't trust him anymore." Hopefully we would have made it clear in a previous sentence or introductory phrase that the "him" refers to Tony. But we at least know it doesn't refer to James. Because if it did, we would use "himself." Get it?

So what does this have to do with selfies?

What do you use to take a selfie? A mirror. Your front-facing camera is a mirror. (Another brilliant use of the front-facing camera, by the way!) Or you may go the old-fashioned route and actually stand in front of a mirror to take your selfie. What does a mirror do? It reflects.

A pronoun using the word "self" (or "selves," if plural) is a reflexive pronoun. This is easy to remember because a selfie is easier to take when you can see your reflection in a mirror. 

The mirror also helps you remember to check to make sure you're using a reflexive pronoun correctly. The reflexive pronoun (the "self" word) should reflect the subject.

I looked at myself is correct. You have both "I" and "myself." They are reflecting each other. The incorrect example above of Please come see myself is wrong, wrong, wrong. Remember that in a sentence like this that is asking something—"please come see"—the "you" is implied. ("Hey, you! Come here!") "You" is the subject of the sentence. Does "myself" reflect "You"? Absolutely not! So this is wrong.

I'm not saying that people should post daily selfies on Facebook, Instagram, and the like. I mean, if you're trying to measure some milestone—pregnancy, weight loss, whatever—by all means, take your selfies, but think twice before posting every one. And I don't think that Kim Kardashian's selfie book is great art, but then again, I haven't looked at it, so I guess I can't say that with 100% certainty.

But selfies DO serve a purpose. And not just to help us avoid the dreaded double/triple chin. (Tip: To eliminate chin issues, dip your head down and forward just slightly.) Maybe selfies are helping us be a little more vain, but they can also help us improve our grammar, and that's never a bad thing.

For more selfies (but mostly cat pictures), check out my Instagram!

A Journey in Rereading

Some people don't believe in reading the same book more than once. Maybe they think it's a waste of time, or that the experience can never be the same after the first reading. But do these people never watch the same movie more than once either? I doubt it. I think they just haven't found the right book to love that much (or they don't really love reading that much in the first place).

My family and I went on a vacation recently that involved a two-day drive to Florida (and back again at the end of the week). I brought three books with me. I honestly thought this would be more than enough. I am a fast reader, and I truly love to read, but things like smartphones (and along with it, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and Candy Crush—just to name a few distractions) have affected my attention span enough in recent years that I don't read as much as I used to. I do make a conscious effort to go to the library, keeping one or two fresh books on hand to read during my lunch break at work and occasionally before bed (although I'm usually playing Candy Crush, I have to admit). This is still pretty sad, considering that in my preteen and teen years, I would check out, say, eight books at a time from the library, and they would last me about a week (two at the most).

Back to our vacation. I hadn't made time lately to get to the library, and by the time I thought about taking a new book or two with me on our trip, it was too late to request a specific title—a method I've had more luck with lately than simply randomly picking one off the shelves. I've definitely gotten pickier since my teenage reading years.

But those years were also when I read some of my all-time favorite books. Yes, those included Young Adult novels, a genre that has (in my opinion) suffered a bad reputation due to the Twilight series and its imitators. I don't read much YA now, but my favorite YA books from way back when still hold up marvelously, and I don't think it's just nostalgia talking.

Two out of the three books I took with me on vacation were YA novels. I had decided to just grab a few of my favorites to take with me since I knew I would enjoy them, and it sucks to be stuck with a boring, stupid, and/or poorly written book on a trip. Somewhat surprisingly, I actually didn't read anything on the first day—and this was riding in a minivan for nine hours! (Give or take.) Am I the only one who sometimes puts off reading (or watching a movie, or listening to a song) because I'm just not ready or in the mood to handle an emotional experience—whether happy or sad? Whoa. That's a little deep. Maybe we shouldn't go there in this post!

But on the second day, I started the first of my three books, and by the morning of our last day of the journey (on our way home at this point), I had run out of books and was kicking myself for not bringing at least one more.

There's just something so good about reading a book you have read before, especially when it's one you love (obviously). It's familiar, and the characters are like old friends, but you'll also notice new details each time you read it, even if it's the thousandth time. That's because you're at a different stage of your life during each reading, so certain plot twists, characters, and even phrases will speak to you in a different way.

I'll use examples from my three vacation books.

• The Raging Quiet by Sherryl Jordan. This book was published when I was in middle school, so I was probably around 11 or 12 when I first read it. It takes place in medieval times, but its language is so easy to understand while remaining achingly beautiful. Lest this become a Goodreads review (if you're interested in those, check out my profile), I'll just focus on what I got out of this recent rereading. First of all, Jordan's writing and characterization is so good. I could learn a lot from her, and I need to read more of her books. As much as I love this one, I have never read anything else she's written. Secondly, the romantic subplot—which at times is also the main plot; it's hard to describe—struck a more profound chord with me this time than I remembered it had in the past. That's funny to me because I've become much less romantic as I grow up and realize that dating is really hard (especially in this increasingly tech-savvy world—but that's a story for a different post) and discover that I'm not really sure what I want in life. But the characters who fall in love in this story don't do it in some cheesy, romance novel way (which I do enjoy in a book from time to time, as long as I know what I'm getting into). Even though this is a book for teens (I guess), its message about love is very refreshing and mature.
• Goose Chase by Patrice Kindl. A very popular sub-genre of YA fiction when I was a teenager was the retold fairy tale. Updated spins on the classic Cinderella story were everywhere (my favorites being Ella Enchanted—read it, and don't watch the movie!—and Just Ella), but my favorite fractured fairy tale was Goose Chase by Patrice Kindl. It mixes elements of several fairy tales, including Grimm tales "Goose Girl," "The Six Swans," and "Rapunzel." I think I loved this book so much because of the magical elements, especially the main character's magical hair (it glows when she sings! OK, it doesn't, but it does shed gold dust when she brushes it). This book is also very funny. I think some of the humor slipped by me in my first few readings. Another thing I noticed with this last rereading is that the narrator is much more unreliable than I probably originally noticed, and also a bit of a brat...but still likable. I don't think the book is as clever as I originally thought—perhaps because it's much shorter than I remembered, so it didn't seem to hold as much weight as I remember Ella Enchanted having. Which means I just need to reread that one next.
• The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver. This is not a YA book! I discovered Barbara Kingsolver about five years ago when I bought Animal Dreams at a used book sale—I'm into American Indians, and the font used on the book cover as well as the blurb on the back piqued my interest. I loved the book—and it just gets better each time I read it! But that's another post for yet another day—so I sought out more of her stuff. I consider The Bean Trees my favorite, although Animal Dreams is a close second. I could write an entire post (and then some) about my love for Kingsolver, so I'll stick with what I love about this particular novel: It's simply refreshing that the main character falls in love with a married man (who appears to return her feelings somewhat), but.......SPOILER.......nothing happens. Too often, authors go that route because it's "romantic," but that's usually when I lose too much respect for the characters to enjoy the rest of the book. On the other hand, I gain so much respect—for the characters and for the author, too—in situations such as the end of The Bean Trees. Even when it's not even the point of the book. The Bean Trees is about so much more. So what did I notice on this recent reread? Kingsolver's details are amazing. In some of her novels (such as Flight Behavior), her writing can be too detailed and flowery, but in The Bean Trees her writing is pretty close to perfection. She's another one who I can—and have—learned a lot from.

I can't come up with a better way to end this post than with this cheesy thought: The books we read—the ones we love and the ones we don't—shape who we are, whether we are writers or not. So reread the ones you love. They're a part of you now.

Cats and Compound Adjectives

I can't wait any longer. I must talk about my cats.

In this post, I'll focus on the cat that actually lives me, Lucy, aka Luce Ma Goose, aka Goose... (Can you tell nicknames are a tradition in my family?)

I mean. Just look at that face.

Cat people have a reputation for being a little crazy. I think everyone is a little crazy in his or her own unique way, so being called a "crazy cat lady" are indeed words that do not hurt me. It's not like I have dozens of cats living with me. Although I must admit that owning a mansion with a special room for my cats (maybe foster cats, à la Beth Stern?) may or may not be a (not-so-) secret goal of mine.

Cats themselves have a reputation for being stand-offish, unfriendly, too independent, only pretending to love humans because they want food, etc. I'm sure this is true about some cats. (And some dogs, too, don't you think?) It's true that Lucy is not a big cuddler, except on the one or two nights a week when she decides to sleep with me in my bed. But she does greet me at the door when I come home and promptly rolls over on her back so I can give her a belly rub. She follows me around when I'm getting ready, sitting on the counter fascinated by the movements of my electric toothbrush and leaning in for a face rub/kiss (as long as my own face is dry). She waits by her scratching cave and her toys until I'm ready to play with her, ignoring her food until after we've spent some quality time together.

That's kitty love.

You might say a cat that finds contentment in a cardboard box is down to earth. Or would that be down-to-earth?

Grammar lesson: "Down-to-earth" is a compound adjective; that is, it's an adjective made up of two or more words joined together. Compound adjectives are usually hyphenated.

Lucy is a down-to-earth kitty.

But when following a noun, as in "Lucy is down to earth," compound adjectives usually do not retain the hyphen. 

Guess what? I almost always have to look this up when I'm editing. Today I had the "down to earth" example (although, disappointingly, not referring to a cat) and spent a good five minutes or so scouring the first couple of pages of my Google results trying to find a cut-and-dry answer to the specific use of "down to earth." Even the Associated Press was conflicted; they had no entry on this specific phrase, but it appeared twice in answers to other questions, once with hyphens and once without (and yes, both times it was following the noun).

The sentence "Lucy is down to earth" looks weird to me. I know it's supposedly right, and there are plenty of times when the rule to remove the hyphens when following a noun does make perfect sense, so I guess I should just go with it, right? But these conversations are what make grammar fun.

Today at work, several of us had an off-topic conversation about the generation coming of age right now. We touched on the fact that several schools no longer teach cursive writing and that too many students are entering college with barely a clue on how to write a coherent sentence. Technology, while great in many ways, is also making us dumber. I fear this generation will not care about writing and speaking correctly, let alone compound adjectives and hyphens. But writing and speaking correctly and clearly is at the heart of good, honest communication, which I truly believe is the key to happiness.

Along with cats, of course.

Introduction: Coffee, Tea, and Me

I'm not a big coffee drinker.

Oh, I like coffee. Not black coffee. Not strong coffee. But something that resembles coffee. With lots of creamer and sugar. Perhaps flavored or with whipped cream on top.

This blog isn't going to be about coffee. But coffee led to this blog's creation. Before now, I had given some thought to creating a blog, but I had decided it wasn't really for me. Partly because I have mixed feelings about blogs (especially the monetization of them), and partly because I'm a pretty private person who is protective of my work—particularly my written work.

But I decided this week to make coffee (the first time I'd ever done it on my own—and yes, these are the words of a 27-year-old) and bring it to work. Many mornings I need a little boost, but I just power through because 1. The coffee at work is disgusting and 2. Remember all that cream and sugar I mentioned? Believe me, my body gets enough calories already. I don't need to add even more to my daily quota.

However, this week was a busy one, demanding a little extra dedication and brainpower, and by Tuesday morning I was still dragging. (I strongly believe Tuesdays are even worse than Mondays.) So I made coffee Wednesday morning. 

Sometimes I get in these moods where I become extremely motivated to do things. Organize my closet! Plant perennials in my parents' backyard! Get up early to exercise! (Ha.) Of course, these grand ideas always strike in the middle of the work day or after I've gone to bed, both times when I conveniently can't follow through on my plans. So I usually make a list (just in my head or actually on paper), which is enough to satisfy my surge of inspiration.

Mid-morning on Wednesday, inspiration hit me. Not only was I flying through my work, but my mind was also whirling with the thought of starting a blog. I had the perfect name for it already. But what would I write about? Who would read it? Would I want anyone reading it?

Today, Thursday, I had more coffee. And I found myself Googling free blogging platforms to use. And here we are.

I call myself a writer. At work I write, edit, and proofread. I explore plotlines and write dialogue in my head—and sometimes on paper (or a Word document), too. I love the creative aspects of writing, and I love the technical stuff. For example, my favorite punctuation mark is the em dash.

Em Dash Amy. Get it? Can you count how many times I've used my beloved em dash already?

My plan for this blog is just to write. I'm not looking to fill a niche, and I'm not looking to market myself. This is going to be about me and my passions, including but not limited to cats, gardening, food, decorating, fashion, music, Jesus, and grammar.

Which leads us to tea.

I'm discovering this week that a disturbingly high amount of people think "iced tea" is actually "ice tea." Just how a creative writing classmate in college thought it was "mash potatoes," not "mashed."

It's ICED TEA, everyone. ICED. I drink it just about every day—much more often than coffee. So trust me that I know how to spell it.