A Stake of Holly through the Heart...and Other Tender Memories

Once again, in my foolish neglect of the mercurial thoughts that often imbibe the masses at this fair season, has led me to display an inordinate amount of Christmas cheer. Constance, too, has been drunk with the festivities of this winter wonderland, dually shown in her presentation to me of the long-awaited Christmas card....at first I held it aloft, like a tepid crane of insolence.. but once I realized the significance of her proffered gift, I embraced the limp paper card with holiday fervor. Likewise we formed hollow men of snow, however the only snow we could find was old, rendering them a color inconsistent with our merriment.

Yet, amid these pleasant airings, my thoughts could not but journey to the uncertainty of the future... Will these good times of friendship with Constance last? (at least until the knowledge of my candy cane theft of last Thursday is brought to light), will my foray into the workforce end in bitter derision and mental anguish?

While I would query Constance about these innermost musings, alas, I cannot, for she has again chose to pursue her obligated year living among the platypus of upper Wisconsin, in order to teach them life skills and more courtly manners. Yet, while I applaud her unusually poor life choice; I still feel bereaved of Holiday Company.... The joys of the season can fulfill even this temporary loss.

portrait of a lady... around the water cooler.

I, Genevieve, in a sole moment of inspiration and mental conductivity have decided to indulge in the nativity of a new adventure... the workforce. While I have been warned continuously about steaming off into the amorous embrace of the fickle suiter of careerdom, nevertheless, giving the general population's propencity for it, I decided that it was time to rendezous with this tall, dark and salaried stranger. Like any good meetcute, your first day on the job should leave you feeling hopeful, and ready to buy shoes. So too, the industriousness of my day filled me with pride and the appropriate thoughts of footwear... but the eternal conflict rose in my mind, could my recent 'his girl friday' phase truely keep me from my carefree youthful days? Constance is no help with my internal quandry, having returned to her former, former life as a lumber-jack in the philosophical order of the caramel nuget. Perhaps in this, like in a bathtub full of hummus, acceptance is the door to contentment. So having began on this journey, I slash into the next step of possibilities, much like a early explorer slashing their way past an andoluvian jungle, hoping that a mad doctor somewhere in a tree-top laboritory has not resurrected a pre-historic beast and trained it to detect the smell of my new leather pumps.... presently, I go into the murky and possibly delicious, chai latte of the future...

Flower Power "Till Death do us Part"

I, Constance, have now graduated also.  The End.

Now, to something more important and assorted. With the wedding only 4 weeks away I, Constance, thought it a good idea to purchase the very thing that defines wedding ceremonies other than: the ring, people, white dress, and wedding hair... the plant life. Walking into hobby lobby was like walking into no-man's-land. Everything seemed as though it was ours, and ours for the taking. We teetered in the multicolored isles intoxicated with power and the fragrance of plastic wilted flower petals, like a sailor on raisin rum ice cream (not rum-raisin).  After hacking down the aisles with our metaphorical machetes we decided upon the ever popular Vanilla Rose of Power with the Pink yet Chic filling flower of Elegance and Pride. NOTICE: The upcoming text may not be suitable for children and botanist alike.  We then decided on the ever popular and accenting Yellow Monroe as the visual lure of our pleasant wedding thoughts. We could not have been more wrong. The oh so pleasant Fiance demurred at the thought of the mutinous color yellow in the glorious nuptials of the indelible love-birds. "Yellow... As in bile? As in coward? As in bananas? Never, never I say! Never shalt the lackadaisical and insolent color yellow mark the treaty of our eternal love," so proclaimed he, this year of our Lord, 2010.  So saved he the wedding day... and thus, our lives. 

Graduation and beyond.... the early years

I, Genevieve, having essentially ended my higher education in a most felicitous manner, now begin my journey, predisposed to the makings of a classical adventure. The ceremonious rite of hats and gowns, I feel, have prepared me to take on a world, where the majority of difficult people will perhaps be wearing hats or gowns. However dubious this supposition, I must confess that the impeding future weighs on my mind like a mole of honey combs; potentially delicious but assuredly messy and fraught with annoyed annelids. Alas, Constance is little help, having once again turned back to her life as a gypsy accountant.  So I go alone into the inky dark espresso of time.... to be hosted by the fickle, Mrs. Cleaver like, domesticity of fate. 

In the beginning...

October 21st... Indescribable of days, the day in which the ineffable voyage of Constance & Genevieve began. In this case, fate was well met in the refillable eco-friendly cup of accord shared between these two aquaintances. My thoughts first took the turn of outplacement: "was I being fired?" "what qualities am I lacking that this Constance posesses?" But then my thoughts quickly turned to pie. The mathematical one. Not the food, you fool... As I stepped into the coffee shop I could smell the freshly brewed coffee grounds in the air as if they were dancing celestially like tiny ballarinas of pleasent aroma throughout my nasal cavity. I, Constance, being of sound mind, saw there Genevieve behind the marble top counter, slounching like a wilted daisy... I, Genevieve, noticed the new barista saunter in with a certain lackadasical jaunt, as though she had recently dined with the muses and taken home a doggy bag. Lively yet soothing music and pleasant chortle buzzed in the background as we conversed; unknowing of the coming significance of our unexpected and unscripted meetcute....