House flipping and home design shows.
Rock, paper, scissor.
White callas.
Hot sauce.
Lysol.
Feist’s new album.
Clean towels.
Daydreaming.
Laughing on the radio.
Singing really loud when I’m alone.
Pacifica candles.
Fight club references.
Winking.
Tipping.
Hoping.
Right now, it is 10 C (50 F) in Vancouver, with a rain warning, and lows of 8 C (46 F) tonight.
In San Diego, where I was last week (and the week before) at this time, it’s 21 C (69 F) with lows of 16 C (60 F). No probability of precipitation.
Seriously.
Come on now. I don’t even own any fall clothing. Or a raincoat.
I actually wouldn’t need to buy shoes or fall clothing if I lived there. I could live in skirts and Havis and be done with it, since I don’t work in a corporate environment. Sigh.
It’s not just the weather that bugs me, though. I love seasons in general (although I don’t know that Warm Rain/Cold Rain qualify as seasons.)
It’s that I went to Southern freakin’ California and felt good about myself and my body for ten full days, even though I am larger and don’t have all the “right” clothes — and wore less clothing, to boot!
If men looked at me, it wasn’t to scoff. I literally always felt like I fit in, even in a place often described as one of the more shallow locales on earth. No one ever looked askance at me… not even women with fake boobs in bikinis!
Funny thing, though. As soon as I got back to humble, polite Canada, I felt immediately under scrutiny, and that I didn’t look right or have the right things on. From the moment I arrived at the airport, actually. And ever since.
What the heck? Talk about a chill setting in.
I really gotta figure out why that is.
(To find all the other lists, just click on “listy” in my categories, or search on the term “Friday” right over there —->)
Well, it’s Friday, and I woke up with a dent in my head. I feel like a golf ball. If golf balls only had one dent.
It’s really sore, too, which makes me think I bonked it on something in my sleep, and don’t remember.
That is totally the kind of thing I do. In fact, I’ve done it before. More than once.
I’m not sure why I’m fussing about it so much, then. There always seems to be someone who can tie head dents into the presence of brain tumours or radical mental illness or aliens on the cerebellum. To them I say: STOP TYING THINGS IN. I really can’t do it, not with my OCD brain. I’m already freaking out that it seems to be getting wider.
I’m going to end up in the “As Is” section at Ikea.
AAA!
So, rather than continuing to Google variations on this theme, I’m going with a new mantra: when life hands you dents, make dentmonade!
Without further delay or head-feeling…
THINGS I LOVE
Undented heads
Concord grapes
Kitten heels
The photos that come up on my phone when someone calls me
The way my roommate gets excited about TV show premieres
Deck door open, fireplace ON
Hoity-toity grocery stores
The New Haven boys and Montelongos on Flip This House
Arugula (or maybe just saying it)
Hair bands (both the kind that sing and the kind that hold your locks back)
Stephen Colbert
Cheese parties
Car dancing
Good mergers
Blue skies on a Friday
Bacon Salt
Sleeping! Because I’ve been doing it for two weeks now!
Beanbag shipments by Fedex
Boot weather… and plans to buy some!
The smell of woodsmoke
Men who make me laugh instead of argue
Men who make me laugh WHILE we’re arguing
California tan, just hanging on
And you? Love it up on your blog, or in comments here.