hmm, “whiskers on kittens” are definitely cute, but i start to sneeze after 30 seconds holding a tiny, wily feline. in fact, my nose is starting itch just with the thought of those little, mewing scamper-butts crawling ’round my wrists and ankles. 

and while i do love “schnitzel with noodles“, the last few dinners my mother has, with an open to palm to her heart in disbelief, expressed her shock and awe at my “incredible appetite” {her words} and ability to shove down food…..exactly what a 36-year-old woman with past eating issues wants to hear from her mother. 

so fräulein maria, i will see your “blue satin sashes”, but i will raise you booze and high fructose corn syrup.

here are a few of my favorite things:

a punch of pink on the pucker.

when i’m feeling down, my frown most certainly gets a pick me up with a wash of fuchsia or rose’ on the lips. and yes, tequila on the rocks helps too. 
the dance performance.

either with your girlfriends on a dance floor, or solo in your sweat pants in front of the family room speakers. shaking it loose with abandon as if no one everyone is watching is like going back to catholic church confession {at least when you believed it still meant something.}

a gentleman who dresses.

i need not tuxedo jackets and sport coats, but if i spy a scarf and or a hat, the backs of my knees start the melting process. 

an open road, not a human in sight.

my own private idaho, or montana, or texas. wherever my wheels wind up and the view is sublime, the windows are down, and the music stains my cheeks with tears.

vintage sugary cereal.

we’re talking fruit loops and lucky charms, the cereal of yore, the childhood kind so sweet it make those gummi bears you stash taste like arugula. sometimes an afternoon with your hand in a box of trix is just what your doctor heart ordered.

the hug from behind.

when i feel hh blanket my entire body my exhalations somehow take on a deeper, abyss level. he’s my standing, breathing, four-limbed human parachute; wrapped around me, silently quelling my unsteady nerves. 

massive beasts.

living their beautiful, quiet, massiveness in peace. complete comfort in their own rough, weathered skin; alert and fully present in their moment, not caught up in pack gossip or childhood cub drama. 

so i showed you mine, you show me yours. tell me m’loves, what are a few of your favorite things to help pick you up when your heart is heaving, your brain can’t take anymore data, and you’re looking for sun in your dark skies?