It's time to quit while I'm ahead.
Vacation has been great. A little annoying that there was some work to be done while here, but even those little snippets of freelance were liberating and energizing in their own way.
But I've gotta go. Flight leaves around 6.
I've squeezed in a concert, several dates with some besties, a surprise of three family members, lots of sandwiches, some reading, some blogging, some snuggling, some catching up on love lives, a pedicure, some beer, some (cough) whiskey, some showers, some alone time, music, donuts, hugs, getting soaked through with rain and then changing clothes in a Union Station bathroom.
I've done a lot.
Moments ago I had to get up from this keyboard and dry my hair, put on socks and a fleece jacket. Because I was chilly.
I have to say I could live without that. I like to blog uninterrupted by temperature issues that need adjustments.
I have so appreciated the rain, though.
And I don't hate Chicago anymore. I didn't always hate Chicago, but then I did, and when I visited last year I warmed to it (in LARGE part because it literally warmed itself to me, being August instead of January while I was in town), and now I think I officially don't hate it anymore.
But grey skies still make me depressed, in an instant, hit-the-gut way that I can't explain or escape from. So for now it is back to sunny skies for me.
Back to Max Attack the cat. Back to my cross stitching evenings, my sandwiches made in the office break room for lunch, my California family-friends.
I told Nick today that I'm legitimately looking forward to greeting at church this weekend, to see the team who I volunteer with, wearing our stylish blue "Welcome" shirts.
But I am sad to leave behind my pals here, and I could easily spend another day or three here. But best to quit before I get cranky. Get back to work and make a few more bucks so I can come home at Christmas.
For now I must bid you adieu and shove some more things in my suitcase. Maybe sneak in a little at-home manicure before my ride arrives at 2.
Much love, to my peeps in the Midwest and the West. And to you, wherever you are. -- Bails
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
A little journal dump apres le dejeuner avec mon pere et ma mere
My lunch dates are late.
We will respect their anonymity and call them by the code names of "Mom" and "Dad."
It's fine. I found myself a perch. Starbucks. Inside Macy's.
And I just came up with a great term, which I used as a hashtag, and you can use it but y'all better give credit!
Ready?
Caffeinational pull.
Get it? Like gravitational pull, except caffeinational because I'm so drawn to Starbucks, where the caffeine is?
However I'm drinking decaf.
However there is some caffeine in this, probably, because decaf is not always exactly what it advertises itself to be.
However, however.
Maybe it should be caffeitational instead of -national. Yep. Changing it! Actually I don't know. #waffling
I have also spent some of my time here at Starbucks emailing a grad school friend to see if she could sneak away from her office that is somewhere right here in the neighborhood of downtown Chicago to get some coffee with me later. Alas she cannot, but I told her that if we can't manage to get together this trip then we can Skype when I'm back home and we can pretend we're both in the same room in Chicago together.
What else can I tell you?
Last night I had a sleepover with my friend Michelle, and we shared her twin bed as our sleeping quarters. That was snug. We found that a foot-to-head lying position was the better way to ensure not falling off of the bed.
After we agreed to have our feet near each others' heads and that we were OK with this.
I couldn't sleep right away, so I took my blanket and my teen novel into the bathroom to read for a bit.
The book is about the weather freaking out all over the planet, and it was raining outside (yay!) in real life while I was reading, which was making the book more realistic.
I read a lot of children's books and occasional young adult ones, but I never really thought I'd be reading a teen novel about the moon getting hit by an asteroid and crazy weather patterns following, and me enjoying this and actually feeling frightened by it. And having to remind myself that the rain outside is not in fact the result of an asteroid.
Guys, I feel like this writing that I'm doing right here is lazy. My apologies.
I know, I know, I shouldn't discredit my work, but I feel like I am just kind of journaling right now, sooo I wouldn't edit my journal, necessarily, so yeah. Anyway.
I hope everyone's enjoying reading this.
I spritzed on a sample of "Happy in Bloom" at the Clinique counter and mmmmm. Might have to buy some of this.
I thought about buying socks because my socks and shoes are currently damp-thus-chilly, but I've changed my mind on that for the moment.
I could keep journal dumping, but I'm not sure you will appreciate it much longer (if I'm wrong, speak up -- let the readers speak! Because I can do this more often in this forum if you'd like), so I'ma head and maybe read about crazy weather as a result of an asteroid hitting the moon in a book but luckily not in real life.
A bientot, mes amis!
We will respect their anonymity and call them by the code names of "Mom" and "Dad."
It's fine. I found myself a perch. Starbucks. Inside Macy's.
And I just came up with a great term, which I used as a hashtag, and you can use it but y'all better give credit!
Ready?
Caffeinational pull.
Get it? Like gravitational pull, except caffeinational because I'm so drawn to Starbucks, where the caffeine is?
However I'm drinking decaf.
However there is some caffeine in this, probably, because decaf is not always exactly what it advertises itself to be.
However, however.
Maybe it should be caffeitational instead of -national. Yep. Changing it! Actually I don't know. #waffling
I have also spent some of my time here at Starbucks emailing a grad school friend to see if she could sneak away from her office that is somewhere right here in the neighborhood of downtown Chicago to get some coffee with me later. Alas she cannot, but I told her that if we can't manage to get together this trip then we can Skype when I'm back home and we can pretend we're both in the same room in Chicago together.
What else can I tell you?
Last night I had a sleepover with my friend Michelle, and we shared her twin bed as our sleeping quarters. That was snug. We found that a foot-to-head lying position was the better way to ensure not falling off of the bed.
After we agreed to have our feet near each others' heads and that we were OK with this.
I couldn't sleep right away, so I took my blanket and my teen novel into the bathroom to read for a bit.
The book is about the weather freaking out all over the planet, and it was raining outside (yay!) in real life while I was reading, which was making the book more realistic.
I read a lot of children's books and occasional young adult ones, but I never really thought I'd be reading a teen novel about the moon getting hit by an asteroid and crazy weather patterns following, and me enjoying this and actually feeling frightened by it. And having to remind myself that the rain outside is not in fact the result of an asteroid.
Guys, I feel like this writing that I'm doing right here is lazy. My apologies.
I know, I know, I shouldn't discredit my work, but I feel like I am just kind of journaling right now, sooo I wouldn't edit my journal, necessarily, so yeah. Anyway.
I hope everyone's enjoying reading this.
I spritzed on a sample of "Happy in Bloom" at the Clinique counter and mmmmm. Might have to buy some of this.
I thought about buying socks because my socks and shoes are currently damp-thus-chilly, but I've changed my mind on that for the moment.
I could keep journal dumping, but I'm not sure you will appreciate it much longer (if I'm wrong, speak up -- let the readers speak! Because I can do this more often in this forum if you'd like), so I'ma head and maybe read about crazy weather as a result of an asteroid hitting the moon in a book but luckily not in real life.
A bientot, mes amis!
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Some things about my life at this exact moment in time
...Since you asked.
I'm in Chicago. I am cold. I am wearing Christmas socks to fight the cold, because my weekend roommates are out and I am not sure if I am allowed to turn on the heat. Also wearing a hot pink hoodie over a green sweater, with a multicolored scarf which actually brings the green and pink layer combo all together.
If you ask me.
I'm eating turkey sausage that I found in the fridge. Don't tell Nick (one of weekend roommates who is out), but it's not that great.
The lactose-free milk, however, is tasty.
I have already partially cleaned the toilet in the bathroom. Considering cleaning other parts of the bathroom (including the rest of the toilet (I am too lazy to explain why I didn't just clean the whole thing in the first place, and part of that explanation is in fact that, you guessed it, I am lazy)).
Housewife in training.
I am dogsitting for a couple of hours, and the dog has given up on me and is snoozing in the next room. He's on to this cat person in here, wearing a green sweater with a hot pink sweatshirt layer on top.
My dad ran his TENTH marathon today. (He's 65). Um, holla at my papa, y'all.
I did not run my tenth, nor my first, nor any number in between 1 and 10 or after 10(th), marathon today. But my injured foot hurts from all the walking and standing. But worth it to cheer on Daddy Dearest.
I am having a hard time switching my tunes away from Rachael Yamagata. She makes this great cat kind of noise in some of her songs (also too lazy to explain this right now) and it's, well, great. We saw her in concert Friday and she was soooooooo goooddddddd! I'm planning to preorder her next album soon...
A new found (I always want that to be one word: "newfound") friend here in Chi-town gave me a book. It's a teen novel about when an asteroid hits the moon. Surprisingly, I'm not hating it. And I forgot my books in LA and selected not to purchase one at the airport, so I am happy for the loan.
In addition to potentially cleaning the bathroom, I am also planning to potentially take a bath.
I am not working on something I should probably be working on.
I am listening to Rachael Yamagata since my roomies aren't here to complain (though one of them went to the concert with me and also loved it, I think he just wants to mix things up a bit here. Me? I'm in obsession mode).
I also might watch Felicity. Don't you love how in a two hour window you can put -- and I'm just guesstimating here -- approximately 8,000 potential activities?
Time to tackle one -- or none -- of them.
Oh! It's supposed to rain the rest of my time here! LA girl says yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.
And!!!!!! ß That was maybe too many exclamation points for what I am about to tell you, but actually maybe not. Because what I am about to tell you is.....
today some chick had one of those plastic jack-o-lantern buckets that kids carry at Halloween and she put it in a recycling bin right before me and
you best believe
I snagged that sucker.
I'm a child.
Wearing Christmas socks.
And hot pink.
And green.
And I'm still -- and for life -- a cat person.
And Nick and I took this adorable (I can say that because really there's no denyin') selfie today. This is us drinking beer after not running 26.2 miles (though, shh, don't let this get around, I think I probably will run such a distance at some point....foot permitting).
I just needed to get all that out, Guys. Thanks for letting me journal dump on you again. Greetings from (temporarily) the Midwest. Xo
I'm in Chicago. I am cold. I am wearing Christmas socks to fight the cold, because my weekend roommates are out and I am not sure if I am allowed to turn on the heat. Also wearing a hot pink hoodie over a green sweater, with a multicolored scarf which actually brings the green and pink layer combo all together.
If you ask me.
I'm eating turkey sausage that I found in the fridge. Don't tell Nick (one of weekend roommates who is out), but it's not that great.
The lactose-free milk, however, is tasty.
I have already partially cleaned the toilet in the bathroom. Considering cleaning other parts of the bathroom (including the rest of the toilet (I am too lazy to explain why I didn't just clean the whole thing in the first place, and part of that explanation is in fact that, you guessed it, I am lazy)).
Housewife in training.
I am dogsitting for a couple of hours, and the dog has given up on me and is snoozing in the next room. He's on to this cat person in here, wearing a green sweater with a hot pink sweatshirt layer on top.
My dad ran his TENTH marathon today. (He's 65). Um, holla at my papa, y'all.
I did not run my tenth, nor my first, nor any number in between 1 and 10 or after 10(th), marathon today. But my injured foot hurts from all the walking and standing. But worth it to cheer on Daddy Dearest.
I am having a hard time switching my tunes away from Rachael Yamagata. She makes this great cat kind of noise in some of her songs (also too lazy to explain this right now) and it's, well, great. We saw her in concert Friday and she was soooooooo goooddddddd! I'm planning to preorder her next album soon...
A new found (I always want that to be one word: "newfound") friend here in Chi-town gave me a book. It's a teen novel about when an asteroid hits the moon. Surprisingly, I'm not hating it. And I forgot my books in LA and selected not to purchase one at the airport, so I am happy for the loan.
In addition to potentially cleaning the bathroom, I am also planning to potentially take a bath.
I am not working on something I should probably be working on.
I am listening to Rachael Yamagata since my roomies aren't here to complain (though one of them went to the concert with me and also loved it, I think he just wants to mix things up a bit here. Me? I'm in obsession mode).
I also might watch Felicity. Don't you love how in a two hour window you can put -- and I'm just guesstimating here -- approximately 8,000 potential activities?
Time to tackle one -- or none -- of them.
Oh! It's supposed to rain the rest of my time here! LA girl says yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.
And!!!!!! ß That was maybe too many exclamation points for what I am about to tell you, but actually maybe not. Because what I am about to tell you is.....
today some chick had one of those plastic jack-o-lantern buckets that kids carry at Halloween and she put it in a recycling bin right before me and
you best believe
I snagged that sucker.
I'm a child.
Wearing Christmas socks.
And hot pink.
And green.
And I'm still -- and for life -- a cat person.
And Nick and I took this adorable (I can say that because really there's no denyin') selfie today. This is us drinking beer after not running 26.2 miles (though, shh, don't let this get around, I think I probably will run such a distance at some point....foot permitting).
I just needed to get all that out, Guys. Thanks for letting me journal dump on you again. Greetings from (temporarily) the Midwest. Xo
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
A curly haired New Yorker speaks to a straight haired Angeleno
Life update: as of Sunday, I've begun watching Felicity.
And for crying out loud,
I LOVE IT!!!!
OK so I should probably calm down a bit, considering I haven't completed episode 4 (titled "Boggled") yet, and my opinion could turn around, this honeymoon could wear off, etc. etc., yeah yeah yeah.
But for now let me just love it. Please.
(Aforementioned rule applies to current crush(es) of mine, too. Thank you for your cooperation. Don't rush me out of my giddiness when a crush is at hand! They don't always come along!)
Some reasons why I love it (Felicity, not a current crush(es)):
The pace: The show moves slowly, but it's not a snooze. It makes me laugh unexpectedly, yet softly, which is nice.
Dialogue is realistic: Though maybe not, if one considers the age of the characters. It's not as bad as the Dawson's Creek high school characters, who speak with the vocabulary of 35-year-olds yet manage not to speak like any 35-year-olds I know. Felicity dialogue is realistic given the situations at hand, the vulnearabilities being explored and experienced by the characters. The characters are maybe more bold than the vast majority of us, in their willingness to confront issues and each other, but they are compassionate with each other and forgiving and fair. I like that. A lot.
The volume: Literally. Even when people argue, the volume never creeps beyond a certain decibel level. I (mostly) enjoy the show Parenthood (I have issues with it, which is why it's a "mostly" love), but in some episodes there is so much arguing and characters talking over other characters that it stresses me out.
Felicity is quiet. It's like, I don't know, viewing a healing therapy session, that takes place in calm, old New York City dormitories and college classrooms.
The characters: Haven't met one yet I don't like. I mean some I have issues with, but overall, I'm a fan.
The fact that the cast includes a Power Rangers alumna: This one speaks for itself.
The music: While it plays some late 90s/early 2000s hits (as well as "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel -- yum), much of the show is accompanied by an instrumental score, which kind of makes the string of episodes feel like an ongoing movie, a la The Breakfast Club, rather than a show. And the reason it's able to feel at times like a Brat Pack 80s flick is because of another thing I like about the show which is the lighting:
While presented in full color, the palette mostly appears in sepia tones of brown and grey. Just adding to the peacefulness.
Ahhhhhhhhh, pause for a peaceful sigh.
Join me.
Have a seat.
Tell me how you're feeling.
Take all the time you need, and continue reading at your leisure....
So today at work I was digging through my bag looking for chapstick -- which, alas, was at home -- and while doing so I noticed the mix of items haphazardly thrown in there and it just made me happy.
And then, I thought of Felicity, which just furthered the moment of happy, and inspired me to write this.
So in the episode I currently have paused, Felicity gets a fridge for her dorm room. She's very, stupidly, charmingly excited about the fridge, and the guy who delivers it says something about how yes, it is indeed a thrill to be the one to call the shots about what gets to be cold and what doesn't.
He's making fun of her, of course, with his deadpan, but I'm with Felicity on this one. I actually paused the show for a bathroom break and smiled to myself and said aloud, "That really is how it is!"
As you know, if you've read, well, any of this blog, I can be the crankiest of crankies about singlehood and alllways being the one who has to go to the grocery store because I have no loving, doting partner to do it for me, EVER.
But I also -- and don't let this get around -- sometimes L-O-V-E love being single, and on my own, in the big, ugly city. And it's in the tiny, itsy bitsy moments, the ones that sometimes piss me off seemingly to oblivion, where the thrill truly burrows itself.
One moment I'll be drinking $5 wine from a plastic cup, and having guacamole or Fruit Snacks for dinner, and I'll be watching a movie from the library in my Spongebob Square Pants shorts and I just get so overwhelmingly content, pausing to notice, "This is where it's at."
And it's just a plastic cup and some mashed avocado.
But it's also like Felcity's fridge. The fridge that was unexpectedly sent to her door and that confirmed for her her decision to move to New York and for the first time in her life do something that was hers, that was the result of something she chose, whether it always made sense or not.
(If you're reading between the lines, this parallels my decision to move to LA, but I'm not going to outline every detail of that here, now).
Because few things always make sense. And few things always make you happy, including a fridge, and mashed avocado and cheap wine. Sometimes they'll thrill you. Sometimes you'll wish you had someone to drink the wine with you, or that you didn't have to wipe down the fridge when it smells weird, or that the guacamole were made fresh at a restaurant on a romantic date, or... Or. Or.
But here's the final reason I am loving Felicity. Because it's all about independence. Felicity is a freshman in college, and she turned a heel on her lifelong plans to go to Stanford and study medicine to instead move to New York to follow a crush.
I would never do that. Most of us never would.
But the things she deals with -- people questioning her motives, her choice to stay, her almost-choice to not stay, her tears, her confusion over men -- these things I get.
I like calling the shots on what gets cold in the fridge. On how long things rot in there before I decide to remove them. On who I decide to tell about the realities of the rotting food in my fridge, or, for that matter, my car.
I get it.
I get it because as I dig through my bag in a search for chapstick, and meanwhile find sunglasses, young adult books, a secondhand scarf, bobbi pins, deodorant, my flip phone, Rescue Remedy that I used when I wrestled the cat into his carrier to go to the vet (and yes, I wished I had a friend to help in that moment, and I got stressed beyond belief and emailed my mommy), and tampons and hair serum and a toothbrush and sunscreen and Advil....
it makes me suddenly stop and smile. At my ridiculous lack of organization, yet my ability to keep it in order, to make it to work every day, to get work done, to juggle, to know when to turn off the email and pour a glass (mug) of wine, to do the laundry or decide it can wait. To learn (more than once) that while 1,000 people can be on my side in any given decision, I can always find someone who isn't. And to learn to listen for the Whisper above the noise when deciding to take the job, get a roommate, date the boy, clean the fridge.
There's a weird, gross, prideful, beautiful thing that makes up this independence thing, that can hurt us and shape us for the better. Which is why Felicity is a welcome gift into my life. And why, for the next several weeks, I may neglect cleaning the fridge in order to watch episode after episode.
(Here's hoping this crush plays out).
And for crying out loud,
I LOVE IT!!!!
OK so I should probably calm down a bit, considering I haven't completed episode 4 (titled "Boggled") yet, and my opinion could turn around, this honeymoon could wear off, etc. etc., yeah yeah yeah.
But for now let me just love it. Please.
(Aforementioned rule applies to current crush(es) of mine, too. Thank you for your cooperation. Don't rush me out of my giddiness when a crush is at hand! They don't always come along!)
Some reasons why I love it (Felicity, not a current crush(es)):
The pace: The show moves slowly, but it's not a snooze. It makes me laugh unexpectedly, yet softly, which is nice.
Dialogue is realistic: Though maybe not, if one considers the age of the characters. It's not as bad as the Dawson's Creek high school characters, who speak with the vocabulary of 35-year-olds yet manage not to speak like any 35-year-olds I know. Felicity dialogue is realistic given the situations at hand, the vulnearabilities being explored and experienced by the characters. The characters are maybe more bold than the vast majority of us, in their willingness to confront issues and each other, but they are compassionate with each other and forgiving and fair. I like that. A lot.
The volume: Literally. Even when people argue, the volume never creeps beyond a certain decibel level. I (mostly) enjoy the show Parenthood (I have issues with it, which is why it's a "mostly" love), but in some episodes there is so much arguing and characters talking over other characters that it stresses me out.
Felicity is quiet. It's like, I don't know, viewing a healing therapy session, that takes place in calm, old New York City dormitories and college classrooms.
The characters: Haven't met one yet I don't like. I mean some I have issues with, but overall, I'm a fan.
The fact that the cast includes a Power Rangers alumna: This one speaks for itself.
The music: While it plays some late 90s/early 2000s hits (as well as "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel -- yum), much of the show is accompanied by an instrumental score, which kind of makes the string of episodes feel like an ongoing movie, a la The Breakfast Club, rather than a show. And the reason it's able to feel at times like a Brat Pack 80s flick is because of another thing I like about the show which is the lighting:
While presented in full color, the palette mostly appears in sepia tones of brown and grey. Just adding to the peacefulness.
Ahhhhhhhhh, pause for a peaceful sigh.
Join me.
Have a seat.
Tell me how you're feeling.
Take all the time you need, and continue reading at your leisure....
So today at work I was digging through my bag looking for chapstick -- which, alas, was at home -- and while doing so I noticed the mix of items haphazardly thrown in there and it just made me happy.
And then, I thought of Felicity, which just furthered the moment of happy, and inspired me to write this.
So in the episode I currently have paused, Felicity gets a fridge for her dorm room. She's very, stupidly, charmingly excited about the fridge, and the guy who delivers it says something about how yes, it is indeed a thrill to be the one to call the shots about what gets to be cold and what doesn't.
He's making fun of her, of course, with his deadpan, but I'm with Felicity on this one. I actually paused the show for a bathroom break and smiled to myself and said aloud, "That really is how it is!"
As you know, if you've read, well, any of this blog, I can be the crankiest of crankies about singlehood and alllways being the one who has to go to the grocery store because I have no loving, doting partner to do it for me, EVER.
But I also -- and don't let this get around -- sometimes L-O-V-E love being single, and on my own, in the big, ugly city. And it's in the tiny, itsy bitsy moments, the ones that sometimes piss me off seemingly to oblivion, where the thrill truly burrows itself.
One moment I'll be drinking $5 wine from a plastic cup, and having guacamole or Fruit Snacks for dinner, and I'll be watching a movie from the library in my Spongebob Square Pants shorts and I just get so overwhelmingly content, pausing to notice, "This is where it's at."
And it's just a plastic cup and some mashed avocado.
But it's also like Felcity's fridge. The fridge that was unexpectedly sent to her door and that confirmed for her her decision to move to New York and for the first time in her life do something that was hers, that was the result of something she chose, whether it always made sense or not.
(If you're reading between the lines, this parallels my decision to move to LA, but I'm not going to outline every detail of that here, now).
Because few things always make sense. And few things always make you happy, including a fridge, and mashed avocado and cheap wine. Sometimes they'll thrill you. Sometimes you'll wish you had someone to drink the wine with you, or that you didn't have to wipe down the fridge when it smells weird, or that the guacamole were made fresh at a restaurant on a romantic date, or... Or. Or.
But here's the final reason I am loving Felicity. Because it's all about independence. Felicity is a freshman in college, and she turned a heel on her lifelong plans to go to Stanford and study medicine to instead move to New York to follow a crush.
I would never do that. Most of us never would.
But the things she deals with -- people questioning her motives, her choice to stay, her almost-choice to not stay, her tears, her confusion over men -- these things I get.
I like calling the shots on what gets cold in the fridge. On how long things rot in there before I decide to remove them. On who I decide to tell about the realities of the rotting food in my fridge, or, for that matter, my car.
I get it.
I get it because as I dig through my bag in a search for chapstick, and meanwhile find sunglasses, young adult books, a secondhand scarf, bobbi pins, deodorant, my flip phone, Rescue Remedy that I used when I wrestled the cat into his carrier to go to the vet (and yes, I wished I had a friend to help in that moment, and I got stressed beyond belief and emailed my mommy), and tampons and hair serum and a toothbrush and sunscreen and Advil....
it makes me suddenly stop and smile. At my ridiculous lack of organization, yet my ability to keep it in order, to make it to work every day, to get work done, to juggle, to know when to turn off the email and pour a glass (mug) of wine, to do the laundry or decide it can wait. To learn (more than once) that while 1,000 people can be on my side in any given decision, I can always find someone who isn't. And to learn to listen for the Whisper above the noise when deciding to take the job, get a roommate, date the boy, clean the fridge.
There's a weird, gross, prideful, beautiful thing that makes up this independence thing, that can hurt us and shape us for the better. Which is why Felicity is a welcome gift into my life. And why, for the next several weeks, I may neglect cleaning the fridge in order to watch episode after episode.
(Here's hoping this crush plays out).
Monday, October 6, 2014
The 1,000 List, Installment #2
As a follow up to Installment #1, here is #2! 100 more things that make me happy and grateful.
101. A hot, wet cloth on my face
102. Having a gal pal do my hair and makeup
103. A pair of sweatpants so comfy it makes me happy just to be wearing them
104. Dancing with my girl Samantha
105. Stretching
106. Dancing in my apartment on Saturdays
107. Randomly picking up a movie at the library and then just loving it
108. Same as above, but with a book
109. Pumping gas
110. Getting a comment on my blog
111. Reading the newspaper and actually enjoying it
112. Taking a trip that involves an airplane
113. Grooming
114. Mani-pedis
115. A dog that doesn't smell
116. An unexpected letter or package in the mail
117. Giving flowers
118. Receiving flowers
119. Arranging flowers in a jar or vase, maybe adding a ribbon
120. Cleaning up just a tiny corner or side table or such and then first glancing it, now all cleaned up; feeling that sense of relief and refreshment
121. Adding just a little something -- perfume, earrings, a scarf -- to an outfit to give me a little boost, and/or make me feel a little less gross when I don't have time to fully shower and primp
122. Lying down (i.e. not rushed) to look at the stars
123. Camping
124. A heart-to-heart with a friend in a car
125. Automatic car washes
126. Rain
127. Thunderstorms
128. Rooibos tea with a splash of milk and a rusk on the side
129. Sweating (you read that correctly)
130. Working out
131. Cleaning up my desk at work
132. Red Starbucks cups
133. Any Starbucks cup
134. A few pieces of melt-in-your-mouth chocolate with a cup of coffee, particularly in the afternoon at the office when I need a pick-me-up, or just because
135. Instantly hitting it off with a newly met friend
136. Spending a whole day running errands, and feeling so productive and tired and bubbly* at the end of the day (*usually some shopping is involved)
137. Getting my oil changed and tires rotated -- a little love for the car
138. Taking a few laps around the building at work
139. The fact that I live in SoCal and can do #138 basically any day of the year
140. Being told that I'd be a good teacher
141. When my brother Patrick pronounces "headache" as if he were speaking Mandarin (huh-dah-chee)
142. Playing football
143. Having a cocktail or a beer with Patrick
144. FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS (the show, not the movie)
145. Tyra on Friday Night Lights
146. Landry on Friday Night Lights
147. Tami on Friday Night Lights
148. Root vegetables, in all their tasty forms: chips, fries, oven-roasted chunks
149. Discussing kids books -- and books in general -- with my mom
150. When the dictionary comes out during dinner with my family (it happens)
151. A BLT, corn on the cob, and a Michelob Ultra on a summer night
152. A red tomato, sliced, with salt -- mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
153. Sesame Street
154. Continuing to sing in a large group, after the instruments stop playing for a verse or chorus
155. Those Facebook friends who I don't know very well in real life but whose posts just make me happy
156. The rarely accomplished nap, particularly if I don't feel depressed upon waking
157. Knowing I'm being prayed for
158. Seed bead necklaces
159. My friend Karina's laugh
160. TV Land shows: The Exes, Happily Divorced, Jennifer Falls
161. Natural light
162. When Faith Hill and Tim McGraw sing together (here and here, specifically)
163. General coziness -- blankets, socks, sweaters
164. When it's chilly enough in SoCal for #163 to be possible
165. The smell of laundry
166. Doing laundry
167. A dinner that goes long and has coffee at the end
168. Seeing the latest animated film
169. Having my faith in humanity restored
170. Watching ballet
171. Doing ballet
172. Playing tennis with -- and getting my arse kicked by -- my 65+ friend Klaus
173. Playing on a playground with fellow adults
174. A delicious sandwich
175. A kiss on the cheek
176. Having wavy/curly hair for the day
177. Flirty, dangly earrings
178. Faux diamond stud earrings (a la Lorelai Gilmore)
179. A kitty's nose on my skin
180. High fives
181. Meeting people's families
182. A new crush
183. Dad's poached eggs. Guys. You don't even know. If you live near him and haven't experienced this culinary phenomenon, go knock on his door and make a request. Tell him I sent you.
184. Putting lotion on my feet, before bed
185. Good smells. I mean, duh, but really -- smell is one of the most powerful senses to me. A good smell can have tremendous effect on my level of peace.
186. Birds. Birds.
187. Being kind of bored on the phone with someone I love but not hanging up because I kind of love them
188. Avocado on a burger
189. Pots with a lip on the edge so I can pour soup directly into a bowl
190. Wearing lip gloss. Particularly that moment when I apply it. There's a weird feeling of hopefulness I get, and I don't just mean hopeful for a kiss.
191. The fact that things -- dishes, hair, clothes -- dry really quickly in desert Los Angeles
192. Fried egg on a burger that drips down and between my fingers when I eat it (namely the Misfit Burger. So amazingly good.)
193. Seeing new emails from friends I love
194. Gin and tonics (Gins and tonic?)
195. Flirting
196. The way hair that has been heated by the sun feels to the touch
197. Scripture in conversation that doesn't sound preachy but rather like the bread that it is
198. When people are really present. When they don't want to be anywhere else but right there with me and whoever else is around. When no one is thinking about when they'll go home.
199. The fact that Samantha -- who I've known for years -- and I simply greet each other over the phone and instantly start cracking up.
200. Rediscovering how delicious and pure iced tea can taste. For some reason I never fully commit it to sensual memory.
101. A hot, wet cloth on my face
102. Having a gal pal do my hair and makeup
103. A pair of sweatpants so comfy it makes me happy just to be wearing them
104. Dancing with my girl Samantha
105. Stretching
106. Dancing in my apartment on Saturdays
107. Randomly picking up a movie at the library and then just loving it
108. Same as above, but with a book
109. Pumping gas
110. Getting a comment on my blog
111. Reading the newspaper and actually enjoying it
112. Taking a trip that involves an airplane
113. Grooming
114. Mani-pedis
115. A dog that doesn't smell
116. An unexpected letter or package in the mail
117. Giving flowers
118. Receiving flowers
119. Arranging flowers in a jar or vase, maybe adding a ribbon
120. Cleaning up just a tiny corner or side table or such and then first glancing it, now all cleaned up; feeling that sense of relief and refreshment
121. Adding just a little something -- perfume, earrings, a scarf -- to an outfit to give me a little boost, and/or make me feel a little less gross when I don't have time to fully shower and primp
122. Lying down (i.e. not rushed) to look at the stars
123. Camping
124. A heart-to-heart with a friend in a car
125. Automatic car washes
126. Rain
127. Thunderstorms
128. Rooibos tea with a splash of milk and a rusk on the side
129. Sweating (you read that correctly)
130. Working out
131. Cleaning up my desk at work
132. Red Starbucks cups
133. Any Starbucks cup
134. A few pieces of melt-in-your-mouth chocolate with a cup of coffee, particularly in the afternoon at the office when I need a pick-me-up, or just because
135. Instantly hitting it off with a newly met friend
136. Spending a whole day running errands, and feeling so productive and tired and bubbly* at the end of the day (*usually some shopping is involved)
137. Getting my oil changed and tires rotated -- a little love for the car
138. Taking a few laps around the building at work
139. The fact that I live in SoCal and can do #138 basically any day of the year
140. Being told that I'd be a good teacher
141. When my brother Patrick pronounces "headache" as if he were speaking Mandarin (huh-dah-chee)
142. Playing football
143. Having a cocktail or a beer with Patrick
144. FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS (the show, not the movie)
145. Tyra on Friday Night Lights
146. Landry on Friday Night Lights
147. Tami on Friday Night Lights
148. Root vegetables, in all their tasty forms: chips, fries, oven-roasted chunks
149. Discussing kids books -- and books in general -- with my mom
150. When the dictionary comes out during dinner with my family (it happens)
151. A BLT, corn on the cob, and a Michelob Ultra on a summer night
152. A red tomato, sliced, with salt -- mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
153. Sesame Street
154. Continuing to sing in a large group, after the instruments stop playing for a verse or chorus
155. Those Facebook friends who I don't know very well in real life but whose posts just make me happy
156. The rarely accomplished nap, particularly if I don't feel depressed upon waking
157. Knowing I'm being prayed for
158. Seed bead necklaces
159. My friend Karina's laugh
160. TV Land shows: The Exes, Happily Divorced, Jennifer Falls
161. Natural light
162. When Faith Hill and Tim McGraw sing together (here and here, specifically)
163. General coziness -- blankets, socks, sweaters
164. When it's chilly enough in SoCal for #163 to be possible
165. The smell of laundry
166. Doing laundry
167. A dinner that goes long and has coffee at the end
168. Seeing the latest animated film
169. Having my faith in humanity restored
170. Watching ballet
171. Doing ballet
172. Playing tennis with -- and getting my arse kicked by -- my 65+ friend Klaus
173. Playing on a playground with fellow adults
174. A delicious sandwich
175. A kiss on the cheek
176. Having wavy/curly hair for the day
177. Flirty, dangly earrings
178. Faux diamond stud earrings (a la Lorelai Gilmore)
179. A kitty's nose on my skin
180. High fives
181. Meeting people's families
182. A new crush
183. Dad's poached eggs. Guys. You don't even know. If you live near him and haven't experienced this culinary phenomenon, go knock on his door and make a request. Tell him I sent you.
184. Putting lotion on my feet, before bed
185. Good smells. I mean, duh, but really -- smell is one of the most powerful senses to me. A good smell can have tremendous effect on my level of peace.
186. Birds. Birds.
187. Being kind of bored on the phone with someone I love but not hanging up because I kind of love them
188. Avocado on a burger
189. Pots with a lip on the edge so I can pour soup directly into a bowl
190. Wearing lip gloss. Particularly that moment when I apply it. There's a weird feeling of hopefulness I get, and I don't just mean hopeful for a kiss.
191. The fact that things -- dishes, hair, clothes -- dry really quickly in desert Los Angeles
192. Fried egg on a burger that drips down and between my fingers when I eat it (namely the Misfit Burger. So amazingly good.)
193. Seeing new emails from friends I love
194. Gin and tonics (Gins and tonic?)
195. Flirting
196. The way hair that has been heated by the sun feels to the touch
197. Scripture in conversation that doesn't sound preachy but rather like the bread that it is
198. When people are really present. When they don't want to be anywhere else but right there with me and whoever else is around. When no one is thinking about when they'll go home.
199. The fact that Samantha -- who I've known for years -- and I simply greet each other over the phone and instantly start cracking up.
200. Rediscovering how delicious and pure iced tea can taste. For some reason I never fully commit it to sensual memory.
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