I am terrible at waiting for anything. Especially phone calls for jobs. Those could made me even crazier than I’ve ever been.
The sound of a fiddle, violin and bagpipes can still make me tear up.
Standing in the pouring rain is like going to confession. I feel cold and wet and clean at the end of both. Better than a two hour shower. And my hair smells like rain for hours after.
I miss my animals like crazy. Especially my cat. I want kitten kisses, dammit!
I still sing in the shower. Loudly. And my range is getting back to normal. I need to start swimming more regularly or singing more regularly. Something to improve my breathing.
Ground beef and potatoes are the still the best damn comfort food ever. Ravioli takes a close second, which I never would have guessed in a million years, but OH MY GOD it is amazing. It comes with spicy sausage and freaking LOBSTER and mushrooms and it’s crazy that something can taste that good and be legal. Seriously.
I can still write, even without my infamous red journal. And my “sexy” pen. God, that is the stupidest phrase ever, but it sticks. It was one of the first that ever stuck in my head.
I can only make people laugh when they want to laugh. If they insist on a stoic silence, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. And that isn’t my fault. My ability to laugh easily simply does not affect some people. And that’s okay. I can still make people smile, and do on a daily basis.
Even when you love a person, they can still irritate the fuck out of you if you see them on a daily basis. Which actually explains why my parents, my brother and I clash. So, I’ve got to remember this when I go back to my house. And be more forgiving. And also while I’m at this house. To be less touchy and more forgiving.
I still find helping people an honorable career. I would rather drop dead than do some jobs, but I still think it’s cool that people can work in banks or anywhere they need to. It’s hard being picking in this economy. But what the hell, helping people, being a servant doesn’t go out of style. Ever.
Julia Child was a beast. End of story.
If you can gross out your best guy friend with two words, be proud. It’s been four years and I have learned well.
Anastasia still has a badass soundtrack. It never gets old and that’s just kind of mind blowing.
A friend is NOT a friend when all he does is want what’s best for him. He’s a jackass. And that’s okay, if you want to put up with it, but it’s up to you to deal. So you can either choose to deal or you can kill it.
Alone time with my mom is a precious gift. But not one I should beat up my brother for, probably. But seriously, that fifteen minutes that we get where we are on the phone or just hanging out a little bit, especially this day-date I’m going on with her tomorrow and we make each other laugh are what keeps me going in the midst of intense stress. And I feel so blessed that we have that. It’s special and taking it for granted would be such a mistake.
Also, always knock before going to the restroom.