somedays

Someday, I will figure out a way to make my home feel a little bit like Barnes & Noble.  There is something about its atmosphere, its vibe, that calms me every time I walk in.  And I meander through endless passages, through more storytelling and knowledge that I could ever absorb, and finally bury myself in a corner to spend a half hour with whatever printed word has caught my mind.

Someday, I will have a car, so I need only depend on myself to drive to places I want to go, and events I want to attend, and to visit who I want to spend time with.  And I'll give people rides, because I know how grateful I am every time someone makes me life easier by giving me a ride now.

Someday, if I'm still living in the city, I will have a cat, because of the way my friend's cat - and seeing how he loves this cat - has forever endeared me to the species.  The kittens in the window in the shop next to my building entrance might have something to do with it too.  Or maybe I'll have a dog, a small one that I might be able to get away with having in an apartment, because of the way I smile every time I see my coworker's tiny white dog.

Someday, I'll take a SEPTA bus adventure.  I'll try all those north/south routes I've never taken, and at least observe if not walk around all the areas of which I'm rather unaware.  I so like to call this city my own, and it is wider than what my experience encompasses.

Someday, I will write a novel.  Despite my vast ability to be unmotivated to make progress on any of the personal projects I have in my head, somehow it will come together.  I will get over the times I can't string together the words to make a single satisfying sentence, to reach the times when it flows like this is what I was meant to do with my life.  I'll hole up in local cafes; the employees will know all the drinks and pastries that I typically order; I'll wear baggy sweatpants and nerdy t-shirts all the time; sunlight will stream in as the hours are whiled in narration, sometimes with a musical background because I can't take silence for too long.  And then I'll hope against hope that someone else in the world thinks the result is good enough to share with people.

Someday, I will go on a cruise to a tropical island.  The ship will have salsa dances, and a bunch of really good dancers will randomly be on the ship, and somehow I will be lucky enough to dance with them.  At night on the island I will drink, and dance, and get lost in house music.  I'll sleep til the sunlight wakes me, go sightseeing, visit tiny local shops, eat food I never knew of in the first place, lie tanning on the beach... forget the normal world for a little window of time.

Someday - though I cannot imagine it really exists - I will find a job of DJing for cafes and fancy lounges and bars.  How better to put to use the endless hunger for, the hours of time spent exploring, the depths of a genre of music?  The good stuff may be hard to find, but man, when it's found, it's good.  Eventually I'll find some avenue to create this vibe for other people.

Someday, I'll have an apartment or a house with an empty wood-floored room, so that at last I can host friends, from one to many, for dancing.

Someday, I will be married.  I'll have someone to kiss goodbye as we head off to work.  We'll spend perfect rainy Sundays cuddled up in a blanket with movies and really good beer - complete contentment.  And I will never go to sleep alone again.

love yourself

from @DamnItsTrue

nostalgia

I used to get these strong moments of nostalgia when I was ending a major period of my life -- I remember having visited my high school's band camp the summer before I was headed to college, and afterward, lying across my bed at home, in a near-physical pain about leaving marching band.  It was one of the experiences I most intensely loved throughout four years of high school and I expected nothing would be like it again.  And my college band experience really wasn't much like it, after all.  But that had all its own variables of course.  So I still look back past college band to high school band with a special fondness.

In the evening of my graduation day from Penn, I had a bit of an emotional breakdown.  I was trying to pack to move out of my dorm apartment room and kept thinking of how some of my closest friends would be disappearing across the country.  I began checking in with friends to see if anyone wanted to go out and do something, because I had to get out of that room and the physical actions of preparing to leave the campus (and a life built over four years).  Eventually I was told to meet up at City Tap House -- my first night there actually; I went thankfully.

Life post-college has developed wonderfully, and accordingly, my amount of time to rest is typically on a slow but steady decrease.  Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am to have found these activities -- mainly dancing -- and the truly beautiful community thereof.  I hardly have time to process and appreciate it all enough.  The excellent side benefit is one I often don't notice: I usually don't have the mental time to fall into nostalgia.  It almost makes sense... why should I be sad and miss the past if the present is full of happiness?

But sometimes, I open up a memory.  And I hold it for a long moment.  I can be sad if I think of it as a loss, that someone or something is no longer an element of my life, or if an experience was much briefer than I would wish it to be.  But there is a deep joy and appreciation that shines through this.  It was a part of my life -- a part meaningful enough to leave a lasting and treasured impression.  That's why the word 'bittersweet' is so perfect, and why I don't push away those moments of nostalgia when I find myself in them.  I find value in appreciating them once again, just within myself.

everything

Ever have an experience that is so wonderful that it takes you in completely; nothing else from your life is a consideration or even in your thoughts at all?  It's not something earth-shattering nor life-direction-changing, nor potentially even "crazy" in whatever sense.  It's just a fun, a joy so purely and naturally felt that that long moment is everything when you're in it.  And you probably didn't even look for the situation; but the beautiful path of life threw in a couple of unexpected tweaks in direction and the rest just happened.

The Feel Good Life

(Sounds like a book title.  If I was cooler, I'd be writing that book.)

stepping into a hot shower, immersing in the water

flannel pajama pants

when someone holds the door for you

laughing. making someone else laugh.

first time re-listening to an old favorite song

figuring something out that you've been stuck on (aside of all the time it took!)

letting go when you dance

finding the perfect music for your mood

hugs that make you feel their meaningfulness

comfortable conversation

delicious food and drink

the breeze on a hot day, and at the beach in the summer

the oddly warm day in a later winter month

when someone expresses concern for you

when you've just completed washing, drying, and putting away laundry

the bedgasm

first delicious sip of coffee

clicking with someone you've just met

a back massage

when someone keeps in touch with you

sleeping in

holding hands. cuddling. kissing.

cozying up in a blanket

songs that just make you want to dance

passing by cute dogs on the sidewalk

feeling another person's breathing or heartbeat

sharing a love of something with someone

new friends

sunshine

After a good night...

I often find myself lingering, cuz I've got some kind of nice outfit on and makeup and maybe earrings I like, and my hair looks good (or at least it did when I headed out, haha)...  And I feel a bit sad to change into pajamas, go over to the sink and rub the makeup off.  An old Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt and a pair of Calvin Klein pajama pants (not even plaid!) for which I somewhere have a matching top, probably stuffed at the bottom of a dresser drawer -- they just can't really compare.  Though, I guess lazy and mismatched clothes imply a letting-go sense that is appropriate for heading to sleep.

I really love nights that kind of spontaneously turn out to be just really good.  Sometimes I can hardly believe how happy I am, how lucky I am to have these friends and to be meeting new awesome people and having such fun.  These moments make me believe life truly is good.