Originally uploaded by fashionaddictdiary.


>Orange Appeal (Please Have One)

Orange Appeal (Please Have One)
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom.


An Ode to Orange on All Hallows Even

As today is the once sacred All Hallows Even (“holy evening”), I will pay homage to the dead with an ode to orange, the color which best befits this liar’s holiday, the walking and waking dream of those who make-believe.

Although I’ve seen it all around, as the pumpkins abound in this small place, it was not until I came face to crater face with the bright and brand new orange sponge this morning that I realized how happy the color makes me.

It was just sitting there—smiling at me, with not a smudge of organic residue to besmirch its hue.

The sight immediately moved me to wonder and ponder and appreciate all that glows with orange glee in my life:

The invigorating scent of orange-ginger lotion; the magic potion I occasionally mix for myself in the morning: 2 parts OJ to 1 part spray of mango puree; the slippery-sticky feel, the perky savoring, the teeth grating of the peel, the spicy-chilé flavoring of mango that is firm and ripe; thin wedges of salted orange; the burst of a single drop of pulp upon my tongue when my senses are piqued (that’s when I’m high); the looming dioxide in the sky at the edge of the city heralding the dusk of a sultry summer day; my nostalgic pining for home—the glorious Golden state; the way I positively relate to the sunshine and the poppies and the rolling hills of my longing; the beautiful underside of the poisonous firebelly toad or the innocuous firebelly newt; the subtle verve underlying the elegance of black poised against orange; well crafted and rich desserts of sumptuous chocolate topped with swirling sprigs of peel; the great taste of Tang!; fresh squeezed carrot juice; the devilish appeal of Orange Julius; the wine-and-Cointreau soaked wedges awaiting at the bottom of a tall glass of Sangria; the ave Maria blessing of Fall and Her graceful touch upon it all, with the turning of leaves; the glorious feeling I believe when I hear the sound of the orange whoosh as I hit “all net”; the energy I get from caffienated orange-spice herbal tea; fresh-cut sunflowers in the foyer; the regal mystery of the orange elephant of India; the curry sauce of Tandoori chicken; the orange anticipation of that first bite into a Reeses peanut butter cup; that funny epidermis of the oompa-loompa and the pachydermous-like heffalumps and woozles; Tigger! that’s spelled T-I-double Er-Ger; the magnificence of the migrating Monarch in flight; the sight of orange as it is instilled in the culture and splendor of México; el refresco de jugo de melón; my Texas Longhorns baseball cap; the-once was orange pumpkin of anything: pumpkin spice muffins or coffee, a generous slice of pie, and I would not lie if I claimed to love pumpkin soup!; and of course the mockingly haunting glow of the jack-o-lanterns on the stoop.