Being barefoot --
Ya know those people who constantly wear shoes in their own homes? What is wrong with those people?! (No offense if you are one of them, but... what the hell is wrong with you people?!) I really dislike confining my feet to shoes. Even socks, sometimes. I prefer to drive barefoot, I enjoy grass, and anything warmed by the sun. I even take my shoes off at work most of the time, although it looks "less professional." I wish it was acceptable to walk around as God intended... uh... barefoot. I can't wait until spring! (I think we got enough of my feet last time, so sorry, no picture.)
Being outside at night --
I love being outside at night, especially in the late spring and summer. There is this certain time shortly after sunset... when it's just starting to get completely dark. I get this feeling, I can't really explain it. Kind of relaxed, like I should be sitting outside with no artificial lighting, and some sort of beverage. I always thought if I were to get married, I'd want to do it at that time of night (except I haven't been able to really pinpoint it which would make it difficult when writing the invitations). Part of me thinks it's also the crickets and other nighttime critters (though I do love hearing them while going to sleep at night), but when I lived in a town (yeh, it was pretty small, but there was constantly traffic and fire whistles and whatnot) I felt the same way at night, or when I had to wake up for work hours before the sun was up. I'm not a fan of the beach, but in my opinion, the best time to go is when everyone else is asleep. I also recently discovered I love driving long distances at night, too, except for all the lovely truckers... and, ahem, it's harder to see the cops.
Thrift Stores -- How can you not love thrift stores? My favorite local store is run by Mennonites... it's clean, well organized, and always has a plethora of phenomenal stuff. AND every week certain colored price tags are 50% off. Awesome. You can't beat one of last year's best selling novels for 75¢. I've picked up so many vintage/antique pieces for next to nothing.. like my antique silverware collection (give me a break, I'm a dork) and that old silver box. And of course a couple of just completely weird things... like that wood & glass thing I'm still not sure the purpose of.
Breakfast --
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And also the best. I already went over how I feel about cinnamon buns. But the truth is, I love all breakfast foods. My dad makes killer omelets. I will never be able to make one that compares. Even the crappy weekend breakfast food at college made my mouth water. Ask me out for breakfast and we're friends for life.
Witnessing other people accomplish great things --
I'm such a sap about this. I will get choked up over the littlest things. I was just watching and episode of Scrubs where a patient (Pvt. Dancer) was finally able to write his name again and it's all chicken scratch, but he's so proud of himself... I teared up. Of course I was on the treadmill at the time, and I seem to get more emotional over stuff when I'm running... but I digress. It's anything really... stuff on broadway, stuff off broadway, art, movies, writing, doing good deeds (uh.. charity stuff and whatnot), just someone doing something well, ANYTHING. I remember one time I was watching some random human interest story about a local glass manufacturer who was hired to make the windows to some massive and important building. I must have been a little hormonal at the time, 'cause even that was a little too much for me to handle. I just get so proud of people. I just read A Widow for One Year by John Irving, and there was one passage that made me think of this: "And there was a meaner, more selfish reason for Ruth's tears. It was that reading Yeats had discouraged her from even trying to be a poet; hers were the tears a writer cried when ever a writer heard something better than anything he or she could have written." So maybe it's a little jealousy rather than amazement that makes me this way. But even in that jealousy, I'm definitely amazed.
Bear --
Meet Bear, my childhood friend. You may have seen him make a cameo in an earlier post. We were tight. I took him for show-and-tell every single day in nursery school, and I think even in Kindergarten. I was one of those saps who couldn't be without him. I'd carry him around by the ears. The poor little dude has had 3 pairs. One was very short lived because while my mom was nice enough to replace the previous ones, I thought they were hideous. (They were chocolate brown, and clearly Bear is NOT chocolate brown. Even as a babe I had standards!) so I snipped the thread and told her they fell off. The thing is, this guy still makes me happy. He's the comfort blankie that was never taken away. I did give up sucking my thumb, so give me a little credit! And anyway, this quote always makes me feel less like a loser about the whole thing: "Dolls have a great patience. Dolls know how to wait, and how to keep love. A world-hardened weary man in his middle years might one day come across a stuffed bear he loved as a child and be surprised, and his hardness broken for a minute as he feels a tug in his breast as if a line immeasurably long and thin were still attached between his heart and this scuffed and forgotten friend. But the bear never doubted."
No comments:
Post a Comment