When my husband is annoying me, I close my eyes and bring back the memory of our first kiss. Over the top of a bong.
When my work is dragging me down, I recall the moment I was laughing with two of my bosses as we crossed a New York City street and talking about being on Willie Nelson’s bus.
When my family feels really far away, I remember being a little kid building forts with my brother, tagging along after my sister, going to dance recitals with my mom, and my dad coaching me in junior high track.
When my friends and I grow further and further apart, I send them cards with humor intact to remind them of the shared laughter we were lucky to have as roommates.
When my cat pukes up a particularly nasty hairball, I rub his soft fur and kiss his head — and am thankful for my little furry friend that makes me smile 90% of the time.
Nothing starts my day off amazing like the service people I pass along the way to work. I toiled as a barista full-time for a year after college and continued to work at the same independent coffee shop part-time for three years while I made no money working at my first non-profit job. I began my working life as a waitress at ‘Village Inn’ which is Nebraska’s version of Denny’s. I worked at Applebee’s and sang stupid birthday songs, I rang up liquor and beer in a dive on the outskirts of my college town, and spent two years as a lifeguard.
My cultural anthropology from these experiences is rich. I have found that in general, the ‘public’ are assholes. They treat the people in service positions with disdain, disrespect, and generally assume that they are uneducated and unworthy of their kindness. I had to bite my tongue on many an occasion. My favorite story to illustrate a point is a lady being amazed at me being able to do math in my head to ring up her latte and scone. Another is the guy pulling up in his Lexus and then arguing with me when I attempted to charge him full price for a cup of coffee and calling me a liar when I assured him that it was not a refill and I saw him grab a new cup. Wow.
Anyway, this was meant to be uplifting! The reason I get so excited and smile and walk with a bounce in my step after seeing a wise-cracking bus driver and a friendly, amazingly-skilled craftsperson is because I know what it takes to let the rude comments and behavior that inevitably happen roll off your back. I was horrible at it! I took it personally. These bastions of sunshine have to put in 200% effort to remain 100% cheery. And I appreciate the effort.
I get very fired up about this subject. I do not understand opponents of gay marriage, do not see their point of view, am generally lost as to how someone else’s wishes for equal rights infringe upon mine. They are people. There’s the end to my argument. Everyone deserves the same rights to be equally happy, to make decisions in the hospital when the time comes, to inherit, to raise children, to not raise children, to live their life as they deem fit! As Dolly says “gay people should have the right to be as miserable” as married straight people are. Going further, she of wise and humorous zingers turns to the crux of my argument by stating “I think it’s great when people accept themselves for exactly who they are and accept other people. I think that’s the key to happiness and success. It doesn’t matter who you are, as long as you do that really good. We’re all God’s children. He loves us all the same. We have to learn to love each other and ourselves a little better.”
Isn’t that the point? Why would anyone want to draft laws and “protect” the world from more love?
Ohhhh SPRING. There you are!
I’m beyond excited looking at my ten day forecast. I had a supremely shitty day yesterday so I’m making the choice to focus on all things positive. I have a job. I might not always like it but it pays me and gives me security when most people are really struggling. I feel lucky that husband and I are in our current situation — renters, stable, no kids, income ahead. PHEW!
I am healthy. No disabilities. I watched the wheelchair marathoners on Monday, the guy who is 68 and PUSHING his son in a wheelchair — it’s enough to make you kick yourself and a good reminder of why it’s important to appreciate sore muscles and a good workout.
I am loved. Husband might not always do it the “right” way or say the perfect things, but I know he loves me with every ounce of his being. And having family that loves you makes everything else not matter quite so much.
Reasons I hate it:
Annoying man who I have coined as my nemesis. He is there EVERY time I am, no matter what time I happen to go, no matter what day. Always. There. And he doesn’t work out! He stretches. A lot. He looks around, he lets random screams and shrieks loose for apparently no reason. He talks to the staff. He jumps on an elliptical for 5 minutes, gets back off, and repeats the whole process. Not only do I see him at the gym, now I’ve started randomly seeing him on the T in the morning! If we didn’t look at each other and make an ‘uggghhhh’ noise under our breath, I could swear the man is a stalker. This city apparently isn’t big enough for the both of us.
Annoying girl who wears her hair down and the same outfit every day. Um, first of all, GROSS. Her hair sticks to her face and her really tight tshirt is soaked through. She fills up her used Zazz water bottle (same one) and jogs at the water fountain while she does it. After doing a crazy stair-stepper routine, she gets on the elliptical and makes it look painful. She goes through the motion of the machine like it hurts each and every rotation.
Annoying boy who constantly looks at himself in the mirror. Any mirror. All mirrors. I timed it when I was on the machine behind him to make it humorous for myself and also to help pass time. Every 5 seconds was the average for his loving gaze to the mirror on the left. If he waited for over 20 seconds, then the checking himself out thing lasted almost 30 seconds.
It’s a small gym. I can never get on some of the equipment because there are too many people. It’s 6 stops away from me on the T so if I don’t bring my bag to work, I won’t go.
Reasons I love the gym:
There are lots of yummy muscles to look at. One guy in particular makes me feel like I should turn and giggle, put my head down, blush. Another prompts my brain to screech “sexual chocolate!” every time he walks by.
It feels good! I love the endorphin high of a good work out. I really believe I am a generally happy person because I work out often. I love that it equalizes my chocolate addiction as well.
I took a quiz and here is what the Quiz Dr told me I should implement into daily life immediately:
I agree. Not specifically just a cute puppy, but this Bernese Mountain puppy will make my life complete. He is apparently a perfectionist that likes to exercise but doesn’t have a lot of endurance. Hmmm…myself in dog form?