I love the transition from summer to fall and then to winter. Fall smells of approaching winter and the changes put me in a romantic mood. The scent of cold air and warm metal linger around every corner, and something is always cooking or brewing. I start pulling down blankets, of which I have many, and I toss them over anything that will sit still. Suddenly all things smell of fresh laundry and are draped in warm rich colors, gold, red, aubergine, or cream. My home, which before was sage, cornflower blue, and green, becomes a place accented with sultry deep colors befitting any ancient woodland cottage. I find myself lingering over tender thoughts, and smiling for no particular reason. I want to cook, and clean, and arrange everything in the house. I take long hot baths, and sip hot minty tea, and wish...for a change....that I wasn't single. Believe it or not, most of the time, I'm perfectly content with the absence of anyone to get nekkid with (batteries+molded plastic = happiness). But when things get cold, and you feel reluctant to leave the house, having someone to cuddle with under those thick soft blankets seems like an essential tragically missing from my life. In fact neither valentines day nor spring inspire the cliche single girl feelings that I find during the fall. Still, I can comfort myself with the fact that once fall gives over to winter and the bitter cold settles in those fantasies of fire side tumbles with fade in favor of daydreams of the perfect cup of coffee. I will tuck my ribbons under my helmet and tackle the freezing northern winter in true single girl style. By the time the ice starts sheeting the roads, and the sleet pitches at me sideways, my desires will be limited to a good scarf, a searing cup of coffee, and some ass-kicking snow-crunching bitch-boots.

I hate Indiana -_-