I have fallen behind with my self-imposed photo challenge. I am aware of this. I want to blame it on papers and exams but that’s probably not a fair excuse. So I offer you, (fill in with an appropriate appositive), this view of a yellow handkerchief obstructing the mountain through my blinds, a shade of yellow covering another.
The struggle to maintain identity.
The Flower Pot
The Tab Collector
The Polaroid Shade
I do not recommend using the phrase, “I like you as much as I like this pen” to anyone. Although it could mean you like someone as much as your very favorite pen, it doesn’t come across that way after the first take. It sounds like the person you are referring to is being compared to a pen, even though that is not really the case at all. In reality the comparison is in your inclination towards the pen and the person being on par. Admittedly this is not the best way to express affection towards someone, it is better than saying, “you are like this pen.”
I did actually use this phrase. Thankfully my audience was understanding enough to realize I was in a somewhat estranged mental state and merely formulated a sentence that included the subjects before me and my feelings towards them.
I always understood green as being a natural, earthy color. It should be noted this is not always true. Green can be organic, soft, and soothing, but it can also be eye-grabbing, in-your-face, and unmistakably harsh. The latter of these quality sets has come to my attention recently. A few years ago, I bought a pair of pants. These pants came from Goodwill. (This is not a terribly important detail except that most of the clothes I buy from Goodwill tend to foster a similar reaction.) When I saw them and picked them up, my first reaction was “these look comfortable.” I most definitely noticed the color of these particular pants because it is impossible not to; however, the color did not instigate the purchase.
I have worn them over the years around the house, in my dorm, and maybe even to the dining hall from time to time depending on the time of day and my motivation to change out of them. Last week I decided to wear them to yoga. I wore them to yoga on Tuesday and, then again, on Thursday. The catch is I had a class immediately after yoga and did not have enough time to change in between the two. Therefore, wearing the pants to yoga required committing to them for the day or at least until I could go home to shower and change. I didn’t think much of it. I felt like any other student wearing sweatpants around campus, which on any college campus is a common sight.
As I said, I wore them on Tuesday and Thursday. Now let’s fast forward to Friday night. Friday night I went to a somewhat random party. I knew some people going so I did not dive into the chaos alone, but I did not expect to see the usual crowd of people once I got there. I was right. I knew the small group of friends I arrived with and only a few others. These situations generally offer opportunities to meet new people or potentially connect with new classmates in a different cenvironment. I was able to do both of these things but not under my own volition. Before I arrived at the larger party, my friends and I went to another friend’s house to meet up.
I was approached almost immediately upon entering the house by two girls, neither of which I knew, but I recognized one. The shorter of the two, who I did not recognize, asked, “Hey. Were you wearing bright green pants the other day on campus?”
Confused and half embarrassed but flattered that they remembered me, I answered with an inflected, “Yes?”
The other girl turned to her shorter friend, who I now remembered was in my Spanish class, and said, “I knew that was the guy,” and the two of them walked off.
The next day I was helping my best friend move. We piled his couches, beds, washer, dryer, desks, and bookshelves into my van and shuttled it all back and forth over the course of a few hours. During this time we got talking about a friend of his that I knew pretty well. My friend made a point to say, “When I was talking to B the this morning he said he ran into you the other day on campus.”
“Yeah, it was funny. He made a comment…” I started to interject.
“He said you were wearing some ridiculous pants,” my friend continued.
I guess I was, and I guess the pants are a bit ridiculous or maybe just memorable. I prefer to think of them as memorable. I could be wrong though. 
Spots of Time 