I love sunshine. It makes my day happy. And now that school has gotten out, I am at home somewhere in SE Washington, Land of the Tumbleweed and 85-degree day. Sadly, it's looking like another grim rainy spring and late, cool summer, but today, at this moment, it is sufficiently sunny to make me happy. And so I am happy.
In keeping with the unbridled hedonism of this blog, here, then, are my thoughts on happy and not-so-happy things.
HAPPY:
My dogs. I have never quite learned to trust cat people. I feel as though there is something a little...unnatural about preferring completely self-serving feline company to the genetically-programmed selfless adulation of a large dog. My irrational and chronic phobia of Dachshunds and Chihuahuas aside, dogs please me. Large dogs please me largely.
...of course, large dogs that shed all over one's black leggings, bark at shadows, beg shamelessly, and refuse to come when called can be...exasperating. But still quite lovable. And a quick Google Image search usually reminds me of that.
The Library. I know. Shocking. But it feels so good to be reading again! Of course, I have a rodent-like attention span and if I do not like a certain book I generally abandon it. I know some people regard this as blasphemy -- you should finish the book before you make judgments about it. Also there's a hint of moral disapproval that comes with the act of quitting. Not good form, old thing. Shows a serious lack of fibre.
(You'll note, I spelled "fiber" like an upper-class British twit right there.)
This is all so much baloney, though. Life is short, my reading list is long, and if you can't forcibly seduce me with your wordcraft, I will not waste my time. The barometer I use to judge whether I've given a book a fair chance is one shown to me by Nancy Pearl, that intrepid author of the Book Lust series. It operates off a keen awareness of the limitations of mortality: you subtract your age from 100, and the difference is the number of pages you must read before justifying the decision to abandon a book. (If you are over 75, says Pearl, then you know what you like and the rules do not apply any more.) Having munched through 166 pages of a 500-some page book and only caring about one of the two plots, I am currently torn, but if I do decide to scrap my current read and dive back into the warm safety of Stephen King, I shall do so with impunity.
Food. My mommy feeds me quite well. Specifically, we have met with great success in our experimentations with Cowboy Caviar. Black beans, corn, diced tomatoes and avocadoes, in a lime-and-olive-oil dressing, with cilantro judiciously applied. Good on chips.
Additionally, we are nursing a wee garden out back. It has mint in it. Every child should have the chance to grow mint in a pot. It grows like the devil, and you can munch on it or put sprigs in your ice water or lemonade. Chocolate mint is very good. Pineapple mint is fuzzy, and not as good for casual grazing on a hot day, but, as advertised, it tastes a bit like pineapple, so it might be good in teas.
Band Names: Recent additions to the list include:
Congenial Neighborhood Cat (I'm picturing jazz)
Lizard By Proxy (grunge)
Towering Eyebrow Inferno (either synthpop, death metal, or disco)
Moose Baby (a high, thin indie-rock with a female lead. From Canada, natch.)
NOT SO HAPPY
Jobs. I need one. I don't want one. I don't have one. I must now look for something I need but do not want and may not be able to get.
Summer Fashions. No matter how toned you are, in that dressing room, there is nothing you can put on that will not make you want to run home and wear clothing stiched out of black garbage bags for the rest of your life. It's something to do with the trick mirrors, or the lighting... though why stores seem determined to ensure that NONE of their clothes will look flattering on you in their store, I'm sure I don't know.
Also: No matter how tanned and muscular you are, if you are male, you have no business wearing hot pink shorts.
Out here in the real world, people are not so big into coffee. There is less of it, and it is all available before noon. This makes me sad. It also makes my family laugh at me when, at around 3:30, I express a desire for a nice iced caramel white chocolate mocha. I don't think I'm being that unreasonable!
Writer's Block. This is a bad thing. The only cure is to write, which is of course the one thing you can't do (or at least not well). "Mordor. The one place in Middle Earth we don't want to see any closer. The one place we're trying to get to. And just where we can't get. Face it, Mr. Frodo, you're in the Dead Marshes of Creative Unproductivity." Extremely vexing, considering I wanted to write a book this summer. Hopefully, the condition will prove temporary. I shall continue reading books in the interim....
Life is, as you can see, a mixed bag of awesome and less awesome. But for now, awesome prevails.
Continue trucking, and stay thirsty, my friends.
