Thursday 19 April 2012

1000 Awesome Things...

Hello Friends.

They say celebrity deaths come in threes, thus explaining Dick Clark, Levon Helm from The Band, and the flautist from Men at Work responsible for this passing away in the past two days. Sad indeed, but the passing I'll really mourn is Neil Pasricha's 1000 Awesome Things. I've discussed his blog before, maybe in less than flattering terms, but that's just sour grapes on my part. I loved dipping into Neil's lists when I felt blue or just needed inspiration to write some stuff. To that end, I hope that people reading this blog will then read 1000 Awesome Things. But not before I add my own.

Dream: Take inventory of that which is awesome in my life.

Goal: Achievable. I've a great deal to be thankful for, and I hope I don't take the awesome stuff for granted, but I feel like I could benefit from making a list anyway.

Plan: Stop, smile, and make a list for today, April 19, 2012, of my awesome things. Like:
  • Then ten o'clock coffee. An hour into my workday, a coworker chats "coffee?" or maybe "caffee?" I accompany him downstairs to the little cafe in our building, he pays or I do, and we have big cups of sweet, hot coffee, and chew the fat for fifteen minutes. Sometimes people join us, sometimes it's just him and me, but its just a really nice fifteen, and I get five of those a week.
  • Second-skin t-shirts. You know the ones, the holey, flimsy, probably smelly t-shirt that feels so amazing. As soon as I get home from anywhere, off go my work clothes, on come the sweats and second skin shirt.
  • My two ladies. Every day after work, I pass these two ladies as I walk to the bus. They are short and stout (no evidence of handle or spout yet). They're foreign (if I had to guess, I'd say Polish) and have mad scowls as I think they're heading off to some job. Anyway, I see them every single day. If we don't cross paths, I worry. They're like short, stout guardian angels.
  • Oatmeal Crisp in the green box. Maple Nut, I think?
  • Parks & Recreation. Back on tonight, it's just my fave.
  • My darling laptop, old Compy.
  • I have really big towels that I can wrap around myself and be covered from chest to ankle, unlike the stupid towels they hand out at the gym. Those barely cover one thigh, so you feel fat, so you go back to the gym. Touche, Goodlife.
  • The woman in my building who calls me "Honey."
  • The Beyonce song Love On Top. Slow down, Beyonce, you don't have to work that hard on a song. But you do. I appreciate that.
  • The shorthand I have with close friends, like boom, moob, eyup, and blomp.
  • Catching the subway just as it pulls into the station.
  • The way I feel my back stretch out when I lie down in bed. That almost painful but therefore even more satisfying sensation of feeling your bones and muscles sink into a soft bed.
  • How Was Your Week with Julie Klausner. It's this podcast where this woman talks about pop culture for a few minutes, but she's really funny and sassy about it, and then she interviews great people, but it's just as off the cuff and charming. I feel like she's just my pal, talking in my ear every Friday.
  • Caesers. They taste good. And oh man, when you get one with asparagus or a bean instead of celery? One of them spicy beans? Good night!
  • Little, little kids who speak in full sentences. I was waiting for a table at a restaurant and this little gaffer ran by, pacifier in his mouth, clearly ready to stir up trouble. His tired Mom followed and said, "Tyler, come and finish supper with Grandma!" and Tyler said, "I'm not sure about that, Mummy." I mean, can you even!
  • Twists of lemon
  • Two hour Datelines
  • Doctor Jon
  • Long showers
  • Dreams, both sleeping and waking.
  • Family, near and far.
  • Friends past and present, close and distant. All y'all.
I know I've been soapboxy the past few weeks, and so not very funny, and I apologize for the amount of pretentious grandstanding and sentimental blather, but I don't always want to cloak everything in a kind of cynicism. Not always. I had a lovely dinner with two aunts last night, and we kept circling back to the question, "If I knew then what I know now, what would I do differently?" I don't know how I'll feel in twenty years, in ten, in five, or in one, but right at this moment, I'm a happy lad. I mustn't devote so much time to worry and wonder when I have so much to be grateful for. Right at this moment. Right now. Awesome.

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