Definitely the Little Things . . .

The little things that make me smile—I might not always be inclined to write about them, but I sometimes get relatively mushy inside and have to share. What follows is a list of the little things I’m enjoying or that are happening right now that make me smile or laugh even when the world seems to be slipping into insanity a little more each day . . .

• Maná’s “Rayando el sol” off their 1990 Falta Amor album. I keep listening to it over and over again, and even if it’s not a happy song (boy-girl angst), it’s still a beautiful song and I love the lead singer’s voice. I’ll shortly be moving on to “Como dueles en los labios” from their 2001 Sueños Liquidos album. I used to cry myself to sleep over that one when IP and I were long-distance. Rest assured, though, I won’t cry tonight.
• Viewing clips of Jurassic Park here and there. Jurassic Park has been one of my favorite movies since I first saw it in 1993, and I find it absolutely appalling that IP, who is a paleontologist for Pete’s sake, has never seen the movie. I have resolved that he will see it sometime this year. Its special effects really haven’t held up (at least, not on my laptop) and the dialogue is sometimes cheesy, but I still love me some cloned dinosaurs. And of course, crotchety, kid-and-computer-hating Alan Grant. He was my first paleontologist love (and Sam Neill is sexy as hell).
• Re-reading “Mrs. Todd’s Shortcut” from Stephen King’s Skeleton Crew collection. I first read it last year after hearing my brother refer to it (but he could never remember the title) endlessly. I’m not much for taking shortcuts (if anything, I always seem to go the long way in anything and everything I do—helps me make sure I’ve covered all my bases), but it’s a wonderful idea, to find something you’re so good at that you actually warp time and enter another dimension that makes you younger, wilder, out of the ordinary. I like to think that Ophelia Todd and Homer Buckland, at first separated by age, marriages to other people, and then dimensions, achieve a carefree happiness in their world when he finally joins her—a world where nothing will touch them and they’ll always have one another. I can’t believe I got all sigh-filled over a Stephen King short story there.
• Planning restaurant outings and D.C. touristy thingamajigs for my parents to do when they visit me later this week. Although I’m not much of a host, they are my parents and I want to show them what a nice place D.C. can be. Don’t worry, Metro commuters, I’ll be sure to communicate the “Stand to the right, walk to the left” escalator rule.
• Finally enjoying my workouts because I suddenly feel as if I can exert effort without getting winded. Either my cardiovascular health is bouncing back after a horrible lull, or the allergies that I was recently diagnosed with were contributing to my sluggish workouts. Since I began to take the allergy medicine, I’ve been more alert. It’s either that or I’m tricking myself into thinking that’s it. Whatever it is, it’s working, and I love it.
• Going through Television Without Pity’s forum on Sweet Valley High. I never saw the show, but no matter—the discussion, over the past four years, has centered on all the Sweet Valley books, and it’s hilarious. I was a serious Sweet Valley Twins devotee (the twins were 12 in that series) and barely graduated to reading Sweet Valley High before I stopped reading Sweet Valley altogether. I remember reading Dear Sister, book number seven in the High series. There were some racy parts (what I considered to be racy back then—remember, I was 10, below the recommended reading age of 12!) and I tried desperately to keep the book out of my mother’s hands. She also read my Twins books, and couldn’t help herself when High made it into our house. She would actually sneak into my room, after I’d fallen asleep and take the book from my backpack. Damn, thwarted (and thanks for the invasion of privacy, Mom). When she finished reading it, she told me I could never read Sweet Valley High again. Elizabeth nearly had sex with Bruce! Ohmigod! (Mom, you really shouldn’t have worried—a lot of the Med/Ren/Early Modern stuff I read in undergrad and grad school was worse.) I’m snorting with laughter reading the forums, remembering how ridiculous the plots and how perfect the twins were.
• Waking up during a power outage last night to a completely dark apartment. Street lights usually contribute some glow during the night, but it was pitch-black last night when I opened my eyes to the sound of the heater powering off. I got out of bed to see that my entire complex, along with all street lighting, a strip mall across the street, and a few office buildings, were utterly dark. Combined with the silence of 1am (which is unusual—even at 3am this place has been hopping), I was strongly reminded of late nights in Mexico, where light pollution didn’t exist in 1991 and the village went to bed by 11pm. I absolutely loved the sight I was treated to last night. The power came back half an hour later, but it was still a nice thing to encounter.
• Knowing that, maybe in a few days, maybe in a few months, I’ll have a post that’ll list the little things that irritate the hell out of me. So changeable, am I.