Journal & Musing

When are you most happy?

I woke up this morning with a familiar feeling of contentment. When I was a teenager, aside from the typical tug of war with my parents over my growing need for freedom, I was happy. Waking up on a Saturday morning was invigorating. The day brimmed with potential. On crisp winter mornings I would don my Guess jeans, leather boots, and cute sweater and head to the shops to buy more fashion accessories. The first drag off my cigarette as I took off down the road was my first step toward the freedom I craved, and the nicotine hit differently in that moment than it did all the next first drags throughout the day. I don’t smoke anymore, and Giorgio perfume is only a conduit to my memories rather than a part of my current beauty routine, which is limited to washing my face, brushing my teeth, and putting a comb through my hair. The need for freedom no longer exists because as an adult, I have it. The money not so much. But the potential for a great day met me this morning like it did all those Saturdays long ago. The feeling of having no responsibilities with a blank slate ahead of me brought on the nostalgia and made way for the Christmas spirit to finally hit. I’m going to make some cider, decorate my tree, and wrap presents for my grandson. I think I’ll put a few tunes on the record player and make new happy memories to wake up to.

Tell us one thing you hope people say about you.

My life experiences have lead to the moment soon approaching when I will have to demonstrate great resolve without emotions clouding my view and polluting my words. I have endured by the grace of God. But now, having been given a precious jewel, I have let my guard down. I find myself standing in a doorway to a room I’ve been in before. It’s a room of fear and misunderstanding. A room of desperation and attack. But I don’t have to step inside. I can shut the door. What good are my past experiences if I let myself relive them? The art of learning defines my life. I owe it to myself to reframe the picture I see before me because I have earned the stripes.

I will not step through that door again. I will be resolute. And regardless of the outcome, the words that will have mattered are the ones I will have told myself.

If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?

In fact, I didn’t sleep. I’ve been awake since 3 am, and now I have to go to work. Boy, this is an easy one. I’d totally go back to bed.

Name your top three pet peeves.

1) when people misuse reflexive pronouns

2) when people mispronounce realtor

3) that I’m okay with the evolution of language as long as reflexive pronouns aren’t tampered with and extra vowels aren’t shoved into places they don’t belong

Bonus) that bad grammar irks me when I’m not qualified to judge

But, honestly, why bother sounding educated if ignorance squeezes itself into dictionaries? Maybe that’s my greatest pet peeve. This willy nilly misuse of words cheapens the genius rebellion of great wordsmiths.

So annoying.

What’s your favorite month of the year? Why?

I like the middles of things. Middle of the cake, middle of the day, middle of the night when time disappears halfway between sundown Saturday and sunup Sunday—the black hole between last week and next when the world sleeps. It’s the things between the things I like best because those are the things that are least noticed. One of the perks of being a middle child, if you like that sort of thing. Of all the middles of things, I like summertime most of all, because the sun gobbles you up and hides you from the world for a little while. July is smack in the middle of Hidden and is where all the least noticed things live. July is boss.

How much would you pay to go to the moon?

What a drab, barren place the moon must be. Cold and grey. Black skies. I’ve always wanted to visit the salt flats and the tundra and look out onto the vast emptiness. I would pay money to see Mongolia or Siberia and ride a horse through the meadows and sled through the snow and ice. Ride the Bering Sea until I’m lost, or walk the endless white sands of a Pacific island. To stand on the edge of a plateau looking over a red, clay canyon. Climb the green, rocky mountains in Peru among the ruins. All under an ice-blue sky with the willful wind trying to blow me over. You can have the moon.

What alternative career paths have you considered or are interested in?

I could have been a legendary rockstar. I suppose I still could be, but I very much like being a figurative one in my current career.