What’s In a Name

Why would you read this unless you were curious about the name and wondered where it came from? I’ll oblige.

“Starting a Blog” recommended tips say that it should be unique. I agree and know that part of my inner-creative would die if I called it “DeAnna’s Deep Thoughts” or “DeAnna’s Blabber Blog.” I really think it may fall along the lines of the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s “Blood Sugar Sex Magic”, or Gwen Stefani’s “Love. Angel. Music. Baby.” – neither one I particularly love. This is just what came out of my head and now we’re both stuck with it.

(…And for the usual beginner blog disclaimer ; I’m not the best writer in the world. I don’t spell things correctly all the time. I sometimes can’t even manage to compose a proper sentence. I can only ask that you try to pick up what I’m throwing down.)

As a kid, with only a sister, I was assigned this pink color. She would get the purple version & I would get the pink. So much so, that when I received two “My Little Pony’s” for my birthday, a purple and a pink one, I automatically handed her the purple one. I never thought twice about it. I forgot about pink for years. At some point, late highschool-early college I was possibly repulsed by it, but all of a sudden, a couple years ago, for whatever deep psychological reason, I started loving it again. I am drawn to it and it gives me a pleasant feeling. I have a pink track jacket, my dog wears pink collars. My most favorite pajama pants are the most bright, blinding pink anyone could stand. I try not to be obnoxious with it, like Steel Magnolia’s wedding scene or Hello Kitty crazy. When I own something that’s pink, I feel like it’s really mine.

Early last year I went to bed and about an hour later I realized how thirsty I was. It was so powerful, I got out of bed immediately to attempt to resolve my problem. I made it over to the stairs and the next thing I knew I was airborn-landed-achey-disoriented. I missed the first step. I landed halfway down the stairs on the back of my head & small of my back. My arm hurt but it was ok. I sat for a minute to get my bearings and then decided that I would complete my mission and continued on to the kitchen. halfway there I experienced an overwhelming feeling of impending doom and hightailed it back to bed. I later discovered this was a symptom of a minor concussion. Fumbling defines me. I fumble around clumsily, I fumble in social settings, I fumbled in school and with my life choices. I fumble through life.

Puppy is 7 and a half years old. She is the smartest, sweetest chocolate lab that continually improves and saves my life, and I can’t image life without her. I promise this will not be the last you read of her.

Love is the state I’m in. Through all my challenges with it and trying to figure it out, I never gave up on the idea of love. It is the Gorilla glue that holds people together.  After all my fumbling with it, I find myself in-love, lucky and happy. .. It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world and I am completely immersed in it.

pink fumble puppy love


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