Hotter Than a Pepper Sprout

Even though I haven't been that hard hit by the news of Prince's death, I'm going to jump on the glittery purple bandwagon of rhapsodizing about his death. I don't have an exciting story to tell of seeing Prince in concert or running into him at a club. My Prince memories are just humble stories of how his work intersects with my life.  The first moment that leaps to mind involves watching "Purple Rain" at the slumber party to celebrate my 15th birthday. (Yes, we actually had to rent a VCR for this special occasion). Of course the sex scene between Prince and Apollonia made quite an impression (if not a fully understood one) on the young Amy.  My friend Jennifer mentioned this movie viewing recently and remembers my mom watching the movie with us and saying something like, "Now girls cover your eyes" during that sexy bit. I like to think my mom said this in a "LOL, I'm being a 'bad' parental figure right now, wink, wink" way ...

Some words just sound awesome together, and I think "casino kimono" is such a pairing. It's aesthetically pleasing, fun to say, and intriguing. I think I'll have to add it to my list of possible band names. A casino kimono is also an awesome thing to own. I didn't even know such an item existed a week ago, but since I became the proud owner of one, I've worn it at least three times. I've worn it to feel dramatic at the Dreamland Arts performances of our play "An Inconvenient Squirrel," and to work to help me feel more productive and positive. I even wore it to church to spruce up my mood and my comfy-yet-drab "I have shingles and feel sorry for myself" ensemble.   Easy to wear, difficult to capture via selfie I'll admit that I obtained my casino kimono in an ironic spirit. Last week I went on a little getaway with my BFF's Sandy and Wanda to the casino in Hinckley and I wanted a funny memento of the experience. Through t...

"My favorite thing about running is drinking afterwards." I shared this nugget of wisdom this morning with Chad while we were running the Hot Dash 10 Mile. Actually, it was one of the few things I said during the slightly  more than an hour and a half (yeah I'm a little sensitive about our time but more on that later) we spent running because I was too out of breath to talk. Is it ironic, or carefully planned strategy on Chad's part, that we were participating in "couple-time" and I couldn't really speak? Today's Hot Dash is the longest race that Chad and I have run together and that's an amazing, and I dare I say, romantic feat. (See my previous post about we haven't  been able to run together:  http://peppersprout.blogspot.com/2015/02/another-holiday-milestone-chad-and-i.html ).  I've always found running with someone else and matching their pace tricky, and it's especially challenging when the runners are of widely varying abil...

I get rather snippy about the stereotypes people have about librarians. I admit that it's the "positive" stereotypes that bother me the most. I don't mind so much when people assume we are dour bun-sporting "shushers," (I just wish I knew how to successfully put my hair up in a really awesome bun) but the assumption that we librarians just naturally know things bugs me. On the contrary, our superpower is we know how to look that sh*t up, AND aren't afraid to use the Google if that's the best answer avenue. It also really annoys me if folks think we just spend our days reading. Okay, most librarians probably do really like reading, but that's not actually, unfortunately, what we get paid to do. That's enough venting for now. Instead, I want to embrace how precious reading has been during my life. Not only is February "I Love to Read Month," but I've been inspired by a co-worker who recently posted a question on our work blog ...

A month has passed since it happened, and it's time for me to admit a deep, dark secret: I accidentally fell off the vegetarian* wagon at Christmas. "Accidentally?" you may ask, with a skeptical tone. What happened, did I conveniently "forget" that I don't eat meat and have some bacon? Mistake my father-in-law's oh-so-tasty-looking venison sausage for melba toast? No to both scenarios, and once you learn what I transgressed with I think you will believe it was sincerely an accident. I ate dog food. (I'll let you, as we liberals often say, sit with that for a moment). What?! Did I pass out on the kitchen floor next to the dog food dish and start sleep-eating with the first thing I could reach? No, again I'm going to dash an entertaining possibility with the rather bland truth. I was snacking on treats off the breakfast bar and simply ate some kibble that was in a dish on the counter. The lights were low, I'd had some bourbon, and I ...

I don't have the world's best memory, so I've forgotten many of the gifts that I have received and given through the years. More than once I have said to Chad, "Oh that's really cool, when/where did you get that?" and have had him reply, "Um, you gave that to me for (insert occasion here)." Oops. But I've never forgotten the presents we exchanged the very first year we were dating. I gave Chad "Bear"—the stuffed bear that is still a beloved member of our household—and Chad gave me a porcelain musical cat clown. Yeah, we were pretty adorable. Apparently we inspired all kinds of soft and warm fuzzy feelings in each other that we attempted to express through cuddly bears and cats. But these romantic feelings of young love were definitely uncharted territory for me, and didn't necessarily fit with the emotionally tough girl image nineteen-year old Amy clung too. So I was a little confused by the cat clown, and I'll admit I proba...

This is a combination boast and confession: I wore my pajama pants home from the gym. I knew this was a choice that would hurt my dear husband's heart, but I did it anyway. I simply couldn't see the point in dressing in "street" clothes after working out at the gym and taking a shower, just to drive home and immediately change into my pajamas as soon as I got the dogs fed. Maybe if it was summer I would have made the effort, but choosing and transporting and changing into winter clothes is quite an undertaking. Plus, because it was winter, I had the added justification that I was wearing my big stadium coat so all anyone could see of my outfit was my legs from below my knees. Now since I was wearing my pink flannel pajamas with owls on them, what was visible of my outfit was rather conspicuous. But hey, these were my "dress" pajamas. These flannel pants are one of the most expensive items of clothing I own. I love them deeply, and even bought them at tha...