Who Your Name Is

So last night was the concert with Chuck Berry and, as rumored, Nelly. It was pretty great. It was in Kiener Plaza so the crowd was tiny, and there was no beer so everyone was freakishly well-behaved. Apparently, going to the show means I’m now a volunteer for the Democratic National Convention? I didn’t find that out until this morning. That’s cool.

They didn’t point out the DNC selection committee but I’m pretty sure I spotted some of them. There were these three couples who were so good-looking and perfectly polished that Justin remarked, “They’re clearly not from around here.” The girls’ shoes gave it away. The guys were all the same height, same build, and had their sleeves rolled up to the exact same length, like they mastered this look together in a class at Yale. I wanted to whisper to Justin, “They look like that cafeteria table full of vampires in Twilight,” but Justin is a pop culture vacuum and sometimes I get baited into explaining totally stupid things like they’re important.

Thanks to Joe, I know we were on the news. J’s in red, I’m in black:

I would show you the clip but I’m chomping my gum in it like a psychopath. Also, try to imagine all those older people around us singing “Hot in Herre”, because that happened.

I didn’t cry but there were a few parts where I really missed my dad:

1. “Maybelline”

2. Mike Shannon. He’s the voice of the Cardinals and therefore, he was my dad’s eyes when watching baseball. Unexpected.

3. Nelly’s latest song. It’s about a breakup, but the bridge goes, “If you ever loved somebody put your hands up/ And now they’re gone and you wish you could give them everything.” If he sang that line one more time, I would’ve burst into tears.

My favorite moments:

1. Mayor Slay loses Mike Shannon

2. Chuck’s daughter wailing on the harmonica like a boss

3. No set list – Chuck just kept saying, “You call ’em, we’ll play ’em.”

4. Chuck forgets part of a song and blasts random chords, grinning

5. So the world’s greatest rock and roll legend is playing onstage and half the audience becomes enthralled with bouncing around a beach ball

6. A teeny tiny adorable hunched-over old lady hobbled onstage to dance with Chuck Berry

7. Awesomely inappropriate sing-a-longs to “Ding-A-Ling” and “Country Grammar”.

8. “St. Louis, y’all. You may not like us but you will respect us.”

9. Running into RØB, Coolhand, Switchblade and Jason’s mom.

10. My FAVORITE BOOTYJAM OF ALL TIME, “Shake Ya Tailfeather”. YES. OH HELL YES.

If the Democratic National Convention comes to St. Louis, Justin and I decided to rent out our loft and parking spot for like $1,000 and crash at my mom’s.

Did you guys know it’s been 10 years since “Country Grammar” came out? And did you know that 50 years ago, my mom worked in a shoe factory next door to where I’ll be living downtown? And my new next-door neighbor makes the world’s best milkshakes at the Washington Avenue Post? Fun facts. I’m so sleepy today!

With No Particular Place To Go

I’m going to see a free Chuck Berry show tonight, downtown. The last time I saw Chuck Berry was at Blueberry Hill in 2002 with Kevin and my boyfriend at the time.

That week, my dad was in the hospital – either for a vein replacement or a toe amputation; I can’t remember which. I handled those first few surgeries terribly, though considering how desensitized I am now, my reaction was probably normal. I worried. I cried. I felt helpless. Rather that being upset in quick, healthy spurts – a technique I’ve mastered – it was always on the forefront of my mind and weighing in my heart.

My dad loved Chuck Berry. He loved rock ‘n roll in general, especially the Rolling Stones. He even played guitar in a band in the 60’s – the Crestones. So of course he loved Chuck Berry. He was excited that I was going, and it made me sad that he couldn’t.

I had a VERY chunky flip phone that shot fuzzy videos back then. This was before it was normal to hold your phone up at a concert. So I spent much of the concert with my phone at my side and my finger on the record button. I was probably terrified of getting arrested. (I used to be a 24/7 nervous wreck.)

Edited to Add: Now that I really think about it, I didn’t have that phone yet. I don’t think phones shot video til 2004 or so. I remember now that I called myself – either with my ex’s phone or my own – and left a bunch of 3-minute voicemails of Chuck singing and playing. The fuzzy Chuck Berry image I’m remembering is a picture I took that night with a cheap Walgreens free-film-for-life camera. However, I did still think I was going to get in serious trouble.

The next day I took my phone to the hospital, and he held it up to his ear and listened to all my recordings, beaming.

I would do that for him again, if he was still here now. With a better phone. Maybe even a camera. In fact, I would’ve called him so he could listen to the whole show with me. The fact that I can’t makes me so incredibly sad. And it makes me realize that things like this are going to hurt me for a very long time. In a lot of ways, the pain isn’t going away – it’s only starting to appear.

To cope, though, I keep reminding myself that Chuck Berry is doing this to help bring the Democratic Convention to St. Louis in 2012, literally a few blocks away from the loft. I’m probably Liberal (I avoid politics too much to be sure) but my dad was a raging Republican. I’m not sure if his love of Chuck Berry would conquer his love of Rush Limbaugh.

So if I feel like crying tonight (which I probably won’t – it’s Chuck Berry for pete’s sake), I’ll remember that my dad would be so angry and ashamed of me if he heard that I cried in front of a bunch of those damn awful Democrats.

The Year Without – Update #9

I know my goal was to not pig out this month, but truthfully… I knew that whenever this happened, whatever goal I had would fly out the window. But while I pigged out during his last painful weeks and pigged out on Erin’s mac and cheese, there were also at least 3 or 4 days where I didn’t eat at all. So maybe it balances out? Today might be one of those days, actually. Out of nowhere, I really, really miss him today. I think I’ve been handling this abnormally well, but today is one of those days where the grief feels normal. And normal grief? Is awful.

Not sure what next month’s goal will be. I’ve been drinking my feelings a little bit (especially since I learned Scandalous Rachel is back at her parents’, too. We’ve literally been partying like it’s 1999). So I might do no booze again. Or working out every day, again. Or maybe no TV. Or maybe nothing, because I’ll also have to deal with his birthday and his funeral and spreading his ashes and a certain family member who likes to yell at my mom, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up any resolution with all that going on. Maybe I should just go the Frank and Erik route and STAY POSITIVE.

The Year Without – Update #9

I know my goal was to not pig out this month, but truthfully… I knew that whenever this happened, whatever goal I had would fly out the window. But while I pigged out during his last painful weeks and pigged out on Erin’s mac and cheese, there were also at least 3 or 4 days where I didn’t eat at all. So maybe it balances out? Today might be one of those days, actually. Out of nowhere, I really, really miss him today. I think I’ve been handling this abnormally well, but today is one of those days where the grief feels normal. And normal grief? Is awful.

Not sure what next month’s goal will be. I’ve been drinking my feelings a little bit (especially since I learned Scandalous Rachel is back at her parents’, too. We’ve literally been partying like it’s 1999). So I might do no booze again. Or working out every day, again. Or maybe no TV. Or maybe nothing, because I’ll also have to deal with his birthday and his funeral and spreading his ashes and a certain family member who likes to yell at my mom, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up any resolution with all that going on. Maybe I should just go the Frank and Erik route and STAY POSITIVE.

Smartjohn

Erin’s comment the other day (and this recently-discovered AMAZING 1996 article about Mira Sorvino) reminded me of something hilarious that happened in London. One of my friends in the dorms was this guy that we called SmartJohn because he had the most intimidating vocabulary. (One time during a good-natured argument, Macie said, “Shut up John! Gimme that dictionary; I’m gonna look up some big words to yell at you.”)

SmartJohn also had a backpack full of gadgets before it was cool to have gadgets. He was the first person I knew with a GPS (and this was before the iPod even, so we were like WHAT). He had a palm pilot with a teeny tiny keyboard that you folded into thirds. During Big Friday, I heard him mumble something about getting a close-up just before he whipped this 2-foot camera lens out of thin air like David Blaine.

One night we were eating a late dinner, and we were all excited to have food from Festus.* John had this grilled chicken sandwich and fries. Sometimes dudes just look pumped to eat their food, you know? John was literally licking his lips. He even hyped himself up for a good minute before he decided to dig in.

As he chewed, his face instantly fell. He looked up, horrified. But rather than, “This is gross,” or “This tastes like shit,” he yelled out with an angry ptew:

“ITS APPEARANCE IS ENTIRELY DECEIVING!”

And I laughed. So hard. I chortled vigorously.

*Longest footnote ever: Festus was my main man. He had a special grill in the corner of the cafeteria, and people would line up for miles and wait forever to eat his burgers and pizzas.

The first night at the dorms, I noticed that he kept asking his boss for a quick break to grab water, and the boss was blatantly ignoring him. So I ran outside, bought him a bottled water, and secretly gave it to him when it was my turn.

For the rest of the semester, any time he spotted me at the end of the line, he would yell out in his musical, possibly-Haitian voice, “Ste-Pha-Nie! What will you have?” I’d yell out my order (almost always a pizza), and by the time I got to the front of the line, it would be ready.

After the Tooth Incident where I couldn’t eat solid food for a week, I insisted on making my first meal a Festus pizza. This segues perfectly into a story about this girl we called “Donkey Butt”, but I’ll save that for another day. God, I miss London.

Back to Cleaning The Basem-AAAGGGHHH

Crossing Paths

My neighbor Rachel has this black cat named Mina who used to hang out with me on my back porch all of the time. She’s an outdoor cat and is the type of feline who acts as happy to see you as a dog. Any time I was outside reading or smoking, she would jump in my lap, kiss my nose and demand a head scratch.

She always seemed to know when I was sad, too. If I was crying about Brian or stressed about school, she would appear out of nowhere with a snuggle, mewing as if to say, “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

She even stopped by on the last night I lived in this house, a little over five years ago. I’ve only seen her once since then. We have coyotes and even a hawk in our neighborhood, and I used to hear animal fights in the distance every night. So I assumed that she wouldn’t last too long out in those woods.

However, last Friday I had called Jen to tell her about my dad’s worsening condition. We had put him on hopsice almost two weeks prior, but because that circle of friends was preparing for a wedding, I didn’t tell anyone. But a week after the wedding, I felt like it was time to let her know.

I could barely say the h-word without choking up, and as she comforted me while I tearfully explained the situation, I heard a rustling in the flowers next to the porch.

Then, for the first time in five years, “Mew.”

And before I could look up to confirm it, Mina was in my lap, rubbing her cheek against my cheek, and pushing the phone away from my ear with her paw the way she used to, demanding all of my attention. “It’s okay now. You don’t need anyone else. I’ll take it from here.”

Cheese Coma

Today is one of those days where I forgot to write all day and now Justin is here. But Erin just brought over the most bomb-ass mac ‘n cheese ever with pancetta and carmalized leeks and zomg. I’ve barely eaten in 5 days and I had like 3 servings and *drool*.

Not the most dramatic picture but (a) time limit and (b) this is the love of my life right now:

I Chopped Down A Tree Today

With my bare hands! (And a handsaw.)

Then I had to chop it up for the tiny little yard bags. That took four hours. Aside from crying and watching that Office episode where Holly thinks Kevin is retarded (twice), that’s really the gist of my day.

I just realized that includes eating. I forgot to eat today.

We got tons of cards and flowers and visitors and food today (though, my mom has already frozen some of it to make room for Erin’s food – we’re so pumped). So that was awesome. I’ve decided that if I ever switch jobs, I want to deliver flowers for a living

Too Tired To Think Of A Title

I’m not ready to write too much about it yet – maybe not ever – so if you see lots of dumb YouTube videos or something, that’s why. I’m doing sort of okay… Sunday I spent the day taking care of other people, Monday there were tons of much-appreciated guests, so I didn’t really have a chance to cry (really cry) until last night.

I was going to wait to tell Facebook about what happened because it just seemed a little … tacky? But times have changed and to be honest, it’s nice to take a deep breath and dive into 100 condolance emails at once, rather than have them sprinkled throughout the week.

From TSGoC: “Sorry to hear that :(. I’m in transit to the dictatorship of Myanmar, but will have gmail.” Of course he is. Love it.

I wanted to tell Shortcake readers something before I told most other people. My parents have always had plans to be cremated, and my mom had told them to just keep the remains. But I insisted on taking his ashes. Part of them will be spead on the family property in Cuba, Missouri where he spent his childhood summers. There’s a place deep in the woods called the Pinnacle that he apparently loved, so that’s where he will go; it will be fun to hike around and find it. If I come across a Civil War battlefield on the drive out there, they’re getting a dash or two.

The other half? I’m taking him to Arizona. 🙂

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I’ve Got My Nautical-Themed Pashmina Afghan

So… you guys remember Couch Boat, yes? How could I let you forget?

Well, yesterday I was having the worst day I’ve had in a long time, and that’s saying a lot. A co-worker bullied me all day and my boss thought it was fine, the trash people didn’t come for the second week in a row after I had dragged a pile of furniture outside all by myself, and then I find out my dad is super sick, meaning I needed to stay home all weekend to help my mom and spend time with him.

I called Justin and told him about my day through frustrated tears, and he immediately came over with a surprise package from Janet. And inside? Was this:

But did you catch the name embroidered on it?

Thank you so much, Janet. It’s such a hilarious gift, yet completely needed and functional and beloved. Instant day-fixer. Double smiles all the way oh my god.

Justin said the lady who embroidered this must have felt so sorry for the poor secretary that everyone in the office calls “Couch Boat”.

My Little Chicken Drumstick

And then Erik posted this:

This video reminds me of a conversation I had with a dude that I was hanging out with when my dad got sick. He would whine about how much life sucks 24/7 while my dad, who had just discovered his heart was 75% blocked and he could probably drop dead at any second, managed to smile and crack me up on a daily basis.

One night I interrupted his bitching and started yelling at him about it: “You have your health, you have a job, you have a roof over your head, you have family, you have friends, you’re smart … you may not have a car, but at least you can walk. Some people can’t, or they can but they don’t have anywhere to go. You know? Focus on the shit you have – because you have more than you think – and build from there. Your life will never get better until you do.”

He refused to admit that there was anything good about his life. I started to get more and more upset, and in hindsight, I was probably more mad at myself for suddenly realizing my own negative attitude than I was at him. But I flashed him this disgusted look and tremblingly said – in a voice so harsh, I can’t believe it came out of me – “My dad’s body is killing him, but he’s still living more than you.”

Needless to say, that’s about the time he stopped talking to me. I try to control my emotions these days, but people who are trapped in their own misery make me violently angry. Life sucks. But it doesn’t stop and, after a certain point, neither should you. Get a good night’s sleep, grab some duct tape and get back to it. You know?

Point of story: I love this dude.

The joke about his hands being cold reminds me of something that cracked my family up at the hospital. My dad needs an inflatable mattress for his bedsores. During one visit, after they brought in the bed and put my dad in it, a nurse taped a sign to the wall:

She taped it to the wall after she saw that my dad doesn’t have heels. I read the note to him and he laughed.

“Well, I forgot to bring my heels with me. Can we float yours?” he asked, then added, “Are you sure it’s safe to leave me with these people?”

Whoo’s Sad?

It’s been a pretty sad/stressful/fat couple of weeks, for reasons I can’t really get into. But Erik posted this, so emotionally I’m set for at least 12 hours or so:

Also, Janet sends the best mail ever. I got a nice dose of sweetness, hilarity AND Mr. Winkle, thanks to her. So that got me through yesterday. And the wedding fixed the weekend. Maybe I should put together a box/file of stuff like this and just self medicate til this is all over.

Edited to Add: Though much like the rest of this past year, Justin managed to do something that made me so happy that it balanced out the sad. This stuff just helps me out when the scales tip (both emotionally and fattishly).

I Expect To Be Rewarded For My Bravery

I wish the person who invented Type 1 Diabetes would write me (and my dad) a letter like this. It’s beautiful.

50 Memories of Dustin and Niki’s Wedding

Erin didn’t want to steal the list-recap thing from me, but it should be noted that I stole this format from Kevin’s recap of Jen and Ron’s Wedding. Anyway, here we go:

1. Graham and Erin – aka Mr. and Mrs. Fashion Emergency – impress me with their ability to “make it work” and look “fierce” and other “catchphrases from 2007”.

2. I forget deodorant! Fellas.

3. Flower girl wanders aimlessly while the front 15 rows wave her forward. Finally she sees her groomsman dad up front and runs toward him, shrieking happily.

4. Groom Dustin rocks an orange tie and vest.

5. Niki. Looks. Amazing.

6. Niki manages to simultaneously look elegant and strut, shaking her butt down the aisle like, “Y’all KNOW I look good.”

7. 3 out of 4 bridesmaids are named Jen.

8. 3 out of 4 bridesmaids dab tears throughout entire ceremony.

9. Dustin sneaks in a hand kiss.

10. Everyone is unsure of what to do with their bubbles until the reception, except me (i.e. cleavage).

11. I meet week-old baby Arthur!

12. Justin surprises people with a full beard.

13. Dan surprises people with a full beard.

14. Mid-day Tecate party at a friend’s house.

15. I touch a dinosaur! WHAT

16. Bonus points a finger at a dog and yells, “BANG BANG!” Dog adorably plays dead. Pat is horrified.

17. Erin finds a new adorable thriftstore dress with built-in pointy nipples.

18. A haiku for Hendri’s:

Wallpaper printed
With velvet peacock feathers
TollivWeir dies twice

19. Nick: “Haha, for a second I thought you were going to pull bubbles out of your bra.” I proceed to pull bubbles out of my bra.

20. Dad Don’s speech makes me cry.

21. Brother Ron’s speech makes me cry and laugh.

22. “My brother and I were always in our uncles’ weddings. I was the ring bearer. Dustin was the flower girl.”

23. Sister Jen’s speech makes me laugh.

24. “It was a 17-year conspiracy in the making, but we did it. We’re finally sisters.”

25. I almost Facebook Niki in the middle of dinner to tell her how amazing the food is. Because, my God.

26. Justin tells me that the purple-haired girl playing trombone lives in our building.

27. Teeny tiny week-old baby Arthur sleeps through dinner, dancing and endless cooing/fawning.

28. Mom Jane suddenly wearing Slash Tophat.

29. Tony dances wearing Jane’s Slash Tophat.

30. Justin and Joe bond over computer animation software.

31. Two forces collide when Laura and Jessica chat.

32. Two forces collide when Laura and Tony dance.

33. Courtney’s smile. Always noteworthy, always contagious.

34. Laura’s mom plays tambourine with the band during “Poppa Was A Rolling Stone.”

35. Bartender is really into Justin’s drink selection.

36. Drunk Jen! Yay! Drunk Jen!

37. “Hey Jen, that trumpet player lives in our building.”
“Girl, I know; I’ve been telling everybody! I’ve been stealing your thunder all night!”

38. Bonus says to Niki, “Well, aren’t you a vision?”, which is one of those adorable things that only Bonus could get away with.

39. There are rumors that Erin danced omg?

40. Ron party-fouls John’s drink to the floor.

41. I cheerfully announce that it is time for my traditional Wedding Cigarette, and immediately get yelled at by 10 people.

42. I step outside and instantly witness crazy drama! Wedding Cigarette, you never fail me.

43. I bond with awesome Lonnen! Thank you Wedding Cigarette.

44. Heart to heart with Heebner. Man, I have missed Heebner.

45. Laura insists on taking a picture with all the girls. The boys laugh as I frantically dodge the full drink she’s flailing over my head.

46. Courtney, Erin, Jen and I take another Mount Rushmore picture just for Puglisi.

47. I finally meet Courtney’s Husband (SO nice!) and tell him about the time that, while working at McDonald’s in high school, she dragged me to the drive thru window to point out her hot new boyfriend (him).

48. Justin whines that he missed getting a second piece of cake. Niki’s mom appears out of nowhere passing out a box of extra cake.

49. I hug the bride goodbye and am too ferclempt to talk.

50. Justin and I wuss out on the afterparty. “Usually I go to those things to flirt with dudes; can I just flirt with you instead?” “I guess.”

The Land Before The Reception

In between Niki and Dustin’s (gorgeous) wedding and (insanely fun) reception, about 15 of us went over to a friend’s house to hang out.

There was a pile of rocks on a coffee table in the corner, with dozens of them in little bags, too.

Someone asked what the rocks were about, and he explained that his brother had just gotten back from a paleontology excursion to Montana, and they “permanently loaned” him the bones that he found.

My point with this is yesterday, out of nowhere, I held a 65 million-year-old triceratops bone. In my hand. I had this goal to kill time and sip Tecate with pals, and I touched a dinosaur. What on earth.

That Time We Almost Got Murdered, Part Two

Last night Justin and I were at the Des Peres 7-11.

We had stopped by to browse through one of those $1 Blockbuster boxes. However, we couldn’t find anything we liked and decided to drive across the street to the actual Blockbuster.

As we were sitting in the car, waiting to leave, we noticed an older middle eastern man staring out the window, at my license plate.

“Is that guy staring at my car?”

“Yeah.”

A minute passed.

“He’s like, not even blinking. What is he doing?”

“I don’t know. He’s creeping me out, though.”

“Me too!”

I stared at him inquiringly. My eyes said, “What? What did I do?”

And then – he sneered. I’ve written that word many times but have never seen that expression in person. It is terrifying.

“Did he just flash his teeth?” Justin asked incredulously.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said, and as I backed out of the lot and drove away, he just stood there, staring.

Much like the last time someone creeped us out in Des Peres, in hindsight I wish I had gone back in and confronted him, or at least distracted him while Justin drove away, so I would know that he didn’t write down my license plate number as soon as we drove off.

I mean, what the hell? What did I do? Was he offended that I wanted to go to Blockbuster? I had just taken a carload of stuff to charity; was he just appalled by my terrible hair? Was my tattoo peeking out, offending him somehow? Is he a serial killer? Does he know about my brother? Am I racist?

I wouldn’t be too concerned about him staring at my license plate so intently, except my mother co-signed for my car and I am back home with her. So the plates don’t just lead to me, they lead to my parents. And they have enough to worry about besides some kidnapping rapey-face serial killing terrorist that I am whipping up in my imagination.

But you guys… he looked like he wanted to kill me. He practically snarled, and I’ve been watching enough Buffy to know what that looks like from 15 feet away. I haven’t been that scared of a stranger since this one time in Amsterdam that I probably shouldn’t write about.

So anyway, if I or Justin or my parents disappear or if anything happens, it’s probably due to a mid-fifties 6’0 guy who looks like Abe Vigota if Abe Vigota was from the Mideast.

Because Des Peres 7-11 managers and staff are from the Mideast (and awesome; I like those guys a lot and I’ve missed them for the past few years), I should add that he doesn’t work there, or at least he wasn’t working at 7ish on a Thursday night.

Security Deposit

I’ll admit to you guys (even though it’s a transitional object and perfectly normal) that I slept with a blanky for a good 27 years. It served as a security blanket til I was 10 or 11, but after that it was pure function. It was the perfect size to put under my head when the pillow was thin. There was always a cold spot I could press against my cheek. And it smelled amazing. It smelled like home. I didn’t take the blanky everywhere (I could go to a friend’s house or as I got older, a boyfriend’s house without it), but I did take it to London and my first two apartments. I mean, when you have a misdiagnosed sleep disorder, you stick with what works.

A few years ago, its age was beginning to show. The once-bright circus animal print was almost completely faded away. If you held it up in a bright room, you could see straight through fabric. But even if it wasn’t transparent, there are enough rips and holes that it barey qualifies as a blanket anymore. I started referring to it as “Kleenex”, because it looked like one after you’ve blown your nose in it for an hour.

Around this time, my dad had his triple bypass, and the first threats of losing his legs were in the air. It became apparent to me that this was how I was going to lose him – not suddenly, but little by little, slowly and painfully. And as I clutched my blanky during one sleepless night, I sniffed the fabric and thought, “I’m probably going to need you someday, Kleenex, much more than I need you right now. But I don’t know if you’ll last until then.”

It’s currently stuffed inside of a pillowcase, inside of a box, inside of Justin’s loft. And while I don’t need it right this second, I probably will soon. And damn, you guys, putting the blanky in storage and saving that thing is probably one of the smartest (and dare I say, grown up) decisions I’ve ever made.

Five By Five

Last night:

• Awesome BBQ at Nick’s, with all-star food and a portobello-swiss burger
• Seeing a rarely-tipsy Justin tipsy, thanks to free beers in a luxury Busch Statium box
• Having my own parking spot downtown!
• A fun walk with my boyfriend, before meeting with friends at Jen’s building
• A view of the Arch underneath the trees!
• 5 couples… including, for once, me
• The last single event for Niki and Dustin.
• Being jealous of the kids who got to watch fireworks while sitting on a firetruck ladder! No fair!
• Arriving just in time to hear the B-52s play “Love Shack” AND “Rock Lobster”
• Amazingly off-beat dancing from some underage drunk white girls
• Snuggling for the ages
• Fireworks:

This Morning:

• Sleeping in
• Cheesy eggs made by a hot bearded man
• Skipping down the (rarely) empty street to Gelateria
• Getting respectfully hollered at by two old black men
• Fresh giant cinnamon roll
• Breakfast in COUCH BOAT
• Buffy Season 3 marathon
• “Justin, meet Faith. Faith, Justin.”
• Talking ’bout the future. Lots
• Nose kisses from Chauncy, with minimal resulting hives

Moral of the story: if you’re having one of the shittiest days of your life, it’s highly possible that in exactly a year, you could have a near-perfect 24 hours. So try to think of it as a good sign.