are the same things that scare many people most. Ginormo spiders and snakes lurking within reach; the unknowns of death and dying; a phone call delivering devastating news about a loved one; a routine test at the doctor coming back positive for something serious; a simple road trip turning into a fatal car crash; lying in bed and hearing a home invader.
…so I guess that was my roundabout way of saying I’m scared shitless of death, in all its various shapes and sizes.
had already pressed the snooze button three times. The final time wasn’t my fault, though. I heard James getting into the shower and figured I had at least another 8 minutes before I could hop in. No use wasting a warm bed just to lollygag.
The sun was shining, and I don’t really mind early mornings when they’re sunny. My head, however, was on the groggy, fuzzy, borderline-hungover side. We spent the evening in Lanesville, celebrating Jamison’s birthday with zingers, scotch, and fire-side science experiments.
This morning started a little earlier than usual. I’m working an early half day so we can attempt to leave for the Saco around noon.
This morning, when I got out of bed, I felt excited and anxious for the weekend, but regretful of that last beer.
- Sizzling bacon on a Saturday morning—when I sleep in a little late and wander down to the kitchen to find James already making breakfast.
- Cannonball splashes off the house boat roof.
- The desperate, wheezy gasps for breath when my friends and I are laughing so hard we’re on the verge of asphyxiation.
- The light clinking of ice cubes, chilling a cocktail in a fancy cocktail glass.
- The “Viva San Pedro!” chants the oar-carrying children make, Sunday of Fiesta.
- The easy swoosh of a single pair of skis going down an isolated, backwoods trail.
- Hearing a familiar and friendly, “Lys?” in a place where I least expect it.
Seriously, my dream come true.
- Doing things progressively, in a “logical” order. (James and I said “I love you” before we started dating, we bought a house years before we even got engaged).
- Using the phrase “Time heals all wounds” when giving advice to others, when I know FULL WELL there are grudges I’ll just never, ever, ever get over (ever).
- Glass houses, stones, you know (just being a horrible, self-righteous bitch).
- Judging people for books they haven’t read and movies they haven’t seen (when I’ve never even read these or seen the majority of these).
- Mocking and gawking at girls in crop tops when really I’d LOVE to be able to flatteringly rock one.
- Being so lazy about taking my makeup off before bed (I know).
- Not getting pleasure from other people’s pain (sorry Ataan, it took balls to lip sync to *NSYNC’s (God Must Have Spent) A Little More Time on You at the high school talent show). (Also, a million other times when I laughed at people falling or hurting themselves or being absolutely mortified in public).
- Throwing food in my fridge away before its expiration date because I don’t like the looks of it/didn’t enjoy it the first time around. I know there are starving families all over the world, but I just can’t stomach that leftover chili for a sixth time.
- "Shedding for the wedding." I was way too anxious/busy/frazzled to diet during wedding planning, but, in hindsight, it wouldn’t have been the worst idea.
- Googling endings of books, movies, and TV shows right in their midsts. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Gimme all the spoilers.
It takes a man to live, it takes a woman to make him compromise.
—Flowers in Your Hair, The Lumineers