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Northeast Ohio in February SUCKS. Every day is cold, gray and depressing. Even the songs of the few birds who have insisted on staying through the winter lack enthusiasm. I glance out my front window as I type this, and the only hint of color I see is a royal blue "mystery" object on my neighbor's front porch. February in Ohio causes one to build exceptional mental health skills or to become an alcoholic. At the moment, I'm not sure in which direction I'm headed. I have used the word "megatini" twice in 2 days, so you be the judge. The fact that I'm a 1st born, Scorpio perfectionist with a Type 1 personality is on my side. If the world can't give me color, than I'll give it to myself in the form of markers, watercolor and acrylic paints. From cerulean to ultramarine blue, from magenta to crimson red, from viridian to grass green and cadmium yellow, there shall be color! I shall lovingly create with all of these colors until every fiber of my being is absorbed in happiness and I'm unaware of the cold, bleakness we call reality. February in Ohio? I can do this! Now where did I set that drink?
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