Sunday, January 4, 2009

Whiskers on Kittens

So, I've been in a funk the last couple of days. Possibly, in part, that's because I've started to think seriously about infertility and dealing with treatment again, which is good for me but also makes me want to curl up under a blanket somewhere - with some really nice hot cocoa - and never come out again. Also, partly, the holidays are just over and I am SO EXHAUSTED FROM PEOPLE and I thought I would get a respite, but then everyone got back into town or their families just left and suddenly we have a pile of dinner invitations - seriously, these people all know each other, could we all catch up at once? - and I want to become a hermit. So, this weekend, I did, which was awesome, but now I feel like a lump. Can't win. (However, I AM going to go for a run AND sweep my house before I go to sleep tonight, and then I WILL win. So there.)

Anyway, since I sort of have DID as a hobby (apologies to anyone who actually does suffer from DID. If this makes it any better, and I'm sure it doesn't, I've always thought it was by far the coolest psychiatric disorder, way cooler than the dozen undiagnosed maladies I probably do have), I decided I would follow up my first couple of posts with a Things That Make Me Happy post. So that if anyone ever reads my first few posts in order, my personality will be totally inscrutable.

We'll start with the obvious:

Another thing that always makes the world almost immeasurably better is any reason to be using my teakettle. I probably should have a huge stash of tea, but since I'm the only tea-drinker in the house and there is no such thing as a decent sale on any grocery item in the DC metro area (I can justify buying almost anything if it's on a really good sale), I have a small stash. Teakettles are AWESOME. (It occurs to me that I have been inexplicably drawn to a bright copper kettle - with a few scratches - in my local Goodwill. I never buy it, because I have a perfectly good kettle at home and the copper one hasn't got a lid. But I want it. And now I know why. Julie's got inside my head. I guess there are worse things.)

Another thing that almost always - but not always - makes everything better is chocolate. If I haven't had any chocolate that day, it's virtually a guarantee.

Always good are shoes. Here is a pair of shoes after which I pined for at least a year. I still think about them. I never found a sale on them that would put them within my price range, and my resolve is therefore firm against buying them. But I don't think they're any less lovely than when I first espied them. (Now that's love.)

Another thing that always makes me feel good is chatting with my girlfriends from college. I so rarely get an opportunity to - our lives are so far-flung now! - but my times sharing a cup of coffee (or tea!) or a chat or a movie or lunch, or a sleepover or each other's formal wear, with them are treasured memories. I'll always feel close to them, even if it's been ages since we've gotten to catch up. In fact, I resolve, before I go to bed tonight, to drop a line to at least one of them just to check in.

Of course that's not nearly all. I also love blankets - the larger and fluffier the better. I found a nice goose down comforter for our bed when I was buying things for the new place this summer, and I can't well explain what snuggly delight it has already imparted.

In that same vein, also excellent are flannel pyjamas. What's better than a pair of flannel pyjama pants? Especially ones so worn that they no longer have any nap from the flannel - they're just smooth. (N.B.: There is clearly an exception here. When some charming person has decided to put a long scar on your midsection so s/he can look at your reproductive organs up close and personal, you do not want flannel pyjama pants, as these have an elastic waistband. You want drawstring cotton jersey workout pants that you bought in a size large even though you are [OK, were] a size small because they just seemed to fit better. Just in case you were wondering.) In fact, for this Christmas, I was especially hoping for a pair of adult-sized Dr. Denton's with feet, possibly even with a butt flap, but nobody took me up on my many many hints. But you can't have everything.

And, because I would be a Bad Catholic if I didn't include at least something religious (I can see how people would think Julie Andrews counted, but she wasn't really a nun) (and by the way, has anyone else noticed that there are a great many more people laying claim to the title of Bad Catholic than Good Catholic or Decent Catholic or even just plain Catholic? Why is this, exactly?), the Marian prayers always make me feel better. I also really like her mother, St. Anne. I took St. Anne on as a patroness (lucky St. Anne) while I was deciding whether I should get married or be a nun, and after I got married, I realized that she was a childless woman, too. She conceived Mary when she was quite advanced in years - charmingly, medieval artists depicted Mary as being conceived by a kiss. (Did you hear that, IF community? We are all on the wrong path.)

And for anyone who particularly does need a bit of cheering up right this minute, I think this three-part episode just about sums it up.

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