TO ALL MY VALENTINES

Let’s get a few things out of the way, yes?

1) Yes, I’m alive.

2) No, I haven’t given up on TINAH, despite having not posted, pinned, Instagrammed or Facebooked a single damn thing in well over a month.

3) Yes, I’m sorry about that.

4) No, I won’t give you a back rub to prove my sincerity, so you can put away the essential oils and that Sade album because it won’t be happening no matter how much I enjoy essential oils or Sade.

5) Yes, I let the holidays have their way with me and that’s partly to blame for my recent absence. Even though we’re well into February I still feel as if I’ve been hit by a motor vehicle called a truck! It occurred to me when I was home in California, whilst starring longingly into a bowl of linguine and clams, that Shonda Rhimes didn’t write off Katherine Heigl from television all those years ago for me to not eat carbohydrates during my week off for Christmas. She did it to make the world a better place; a place where one can enjoy the food of his ancestors without having to disclose how many sticks of butter he put in the cream sauce or whether or not he peeled the casings from the logs of dried salami before ingesting them. I’m good 51 weeks out of the year, you guyz! I’m so good, in fact, that on December 23rd I gave in, put on my eatin’ poncho and let my carnal desires run wild in an attempt to celebrate the sacrifice made by our Lord and Savior, Ms. Rhimes, black Jesus, and exalt the self-control I practice throughout the other 358 days of the year. It was, to put it simply and without any hyperbole, a religious experience of the highest order, like how that Brazilian guy must’ve felt when a bunch of other dudes started saying to him, “Oh hey, Pope.” I come from a family of boisterous spaghetti heads who believe the nutritional pyramid consists of only three food groups (Grains [pasta] Vegetables [garlic] and Anchovies [anchovies]), and they enjoy cured meat almost as much as they do original sin. Gorging yourself on delicacies in an Italian family like mine means taking your life in your own hands. They’re also game hunters, too, and I’ve never been one to turn down homemade elk sausage. It was a marathon of family, feasts, and farts, y’all, and I’m still recovering from it.

6) No, all that still didn’t stop me from polishing off a tin of those Danish butter cookies.

7) Yes, you should buy stock in Royal Dansk because I actually ate 3.

8) No, I don’t really have anything new or exciting to report. How boring, you must be thinking. Why do I even read this dumb blog, you’re probably pondering. It’s a wonder you even have a job considering your list of employable skills is shorter than a casting call for ‘Willow :The Musical’, I’m now thinking. The sad, cold truth is that I am employed and work has been busy. Unfortunately that hasn’t left me with a free second to think about let alone accomplish some of my own projects. But I’m not going to whine about it! No. I am an adult! And being an adult means sacrificing your dreams and aspirations to earn money and convince those around you that you’re successful and happy. I don’t enjoy coming home every night to a lonely pair of staple pliers lying on my kitchen counter. I know I won’t be reupholstering anything tomorrow or this weekend or the even the weekend after that! It’s infuriating! I saw on Twitter the other day someone wrote, “Remember, you have as many hours in the day as Beyoncé!” and I wanted to punch whoever thought of that in their dumb neck because that is not true nor is it helpful. I do not have as many hours in the day as Beyoncé. Beyoncé is in the Illuminati and everyone knows the Illuminati controls space and time. In one day she can shoot five music videos and record nine albums. I, however, can eat lunch and squeak out an email or two if I’m lucky. There are plenty of things I have to do which Beyoncé doesn’t that fill up my day faster than hers. Beyoncé doesn’t have to do her laundry. Beyoncé doesn’t have to walk her dog three times a day. Beyoncé doesn’t have to plan her meals for the week and make them all on a Sunday so when Monday morning rolls around and she’s running late she has one less thing to worry about. Beyoncé Beyoncé Beyoncé UGH! I wish I could pack up and move somewhere new, like the French countryside where no one knows my name or my backstory, to open a small chocolate shop and spend my days winning over the townsfolk with the sugary confections I make from my grandmother’s mystical recipes and my nights would be filled with dancing along the riverbank with a handsome gypsy man and listening to drunk Judy Dench espousing life lessons! What a dream that would be!

9) Yes, I watched Chocolat over the Christmas break AND I STILL LOVE IT. I recommend you do the same. It’s just so good.

10) No, I don’t think I’ll ever do something as impulsive as move to France in pursuit whimsy and passion, but it’s fun to think about.

11) Yes, I consider myself the male Juliette Binoche.

12) No, I’m not sure when the blog will be having it’s 2.0 moment. I’ve been saying it for awhile now on Facebook that TINAH will be getting a facelift–and it will–but it’s too soon to really know when. I gripe about the layout constantly in my own head, but since I’m the only one in there no one else really knows that I do. If any one of you little cuties out there want to take a crack at it I welcome the help! For whatever reason we have a lot of readers in Russia and isn’t Russia just full of computer geniuses? (Hi Russian hackers plz don’t hack me long live Putin!)

13) Yes, I am as disappointed as you are that I’ve been so slack about documenting my goings-on, on here and all the other platforms. I think nowadays we’re in the mindset that, whatever we do, if we aren’t posting it online it isn’t happening. I feel that way a lot of the time! After the holiday break, though, I came back to New York and it was so quiet. The streets were calm, which is very rare during that time of year, or maybe I was calm having just spent a week surrounded by family. I don’t know. I had a few more days to myself before going back to work and in that time I took on a few side projects for friends. It wasn’t anything noteworthy–nothing I had to post online–but that’s why I liked doing them. I had these prefect four days of running around the city, gathering materials, meeting shop owners and craftspeople and I didn’t write any of it down. I got to focus on the one-on-one interactions. I don’t always allow myself to do that very often. It was a nice change of pace.

14) No, I’m not becoming a big softy.

15) Yes, I will punch you in the neck if you call me a big softy.

16) No, I don’t believe this blog is devolving into a masturbatory examination of my insecurities disguised as a funny point/counterpoint list-based inner monologue WHY DO YOU? WELL THEN I THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONCERN BUT WHEN I WANT YOUR OPINION I WILL ASK FOR IT.

17) Yes, sometimes I think I can be a little hard on my readers and I’m so, so sorry and you’re all so pretty and please please please just love me unconditionally ayyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!11!!111111!

So, that should be it, right? I think I’ve answered all the questions anyone could possibly have. If there’s anything else you know where to find me, you monsters:

thisisnotahouseblog@gmail.com

Butterfly kisses,

Evan

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4 thoughts on “TO ALL MY VALENTINES

  1. Jane of the Desert

    I must love you unconditionally, I had a psychic vision that I should check in with you today and here is a new post, the first one since it was not-Christmas! Happy V Day from your Arizona Admirer.

    Reply
    1. Evan Post author

      How eerie! We must be on the same psychic wavelength. Now, if you could only use your visions to stop the snow and these frigid temps I would REALLY be convinced! Can you get on that ASAP?

      Reply

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