Things That I Like on Friday

I'm going to talk about some of my current favorite things, since Pinterest isn't doing a good enough job of keeping track of everything I'm obsessed with.  (Just kidding.)  (But really.)

1.  John Carter.

This picture!  It kills me! Don't you want to see this movie now?  

Robs and I are really into the TV show Friday Night Lights.  So we went to see a movie starring our favorite FNL alum, Timmy Riggins.  We fully expected that it would be the worst movie we ever saw but we went anyway, because we are faithful to all things Friday Night Lights.  Turns out, it was AWESOME.  Turns out, it's doing AWFUL.  Turns out, that's because of BAD MARKETING.  Read this.  It's fascinating.  Seriously.  I like the director.

2.  Keds.

They're just adorable these days.  Who knew?

3.  This.

4.  Also, this.

I keep wanting to say nasty things on Facebook to conservative people who I think are saying dumb things about politics.  But I haven't yet.  And I'm going to keep trying really hard not to.  This is my new mantra.

5.  The fact that I am going to actually graduate in August, and actually be done with all of my classes.  For real.  This has been a long time coming.

6.  The fact that this is what I did instead of finishing an essay I should have turned in, oh, six months ago.  That was my one goal for the day.  I just can't do it.  Independent Study has made me the world's most anxious student.  Why would I turn something in if I can obsess over it forever instead?  My graduation is actually a lot less certain than it seems, if this keeps up.

Waving Boldly in the Corrupt Sands of Commerce

These are the things on my mind today.

I'm thinking about my (our) (using plural instead of singular pronouns is one of the greatest things about being married) (it means I always have a pal) future.  And it is terrifying.  

The thing is, I want to be a college professor and a high school teacher.  I want to be a lawyer and a chef and a writer and a magazine editor.  I want to study literature for the rest of my life, and I also want to never have to go to school again after these past few hellish semesters.  I want to be a domestic stay-at-home mom, and I want to rule the world.  

I want to be everything, but I also don't want to be anything except for the person I am. 

I want to do something valuable.  I want to be true to myself and I want to be kind to other people.  

I've been thinking about it, and I want to be Kathleen Kelly.

When I think about the life I want to live, I want to live in the world of You've Got Mail.  I want it to always be fall in New York City.  I want to send bouquets of sharpened pencils, and order tall decaf CAPPUCCINOS! (Not really.  I love the WoW)  I want to spend my days doing something like equipping children with the very  best books, books like Dancing Shoes, and Ballet Shoes, and Skating Shoes by Noel Stretfield.  I want daisies.  Aren't daisies the friendliest flower?  

I want to lead a small life.  Well, valuable, but small.

I realized this when I read this masterful blog post that I stumbled upon when reading the blog of my favorite Kathleen-Kelly-esque blogger. (Neither of those women know me.  Sorry for creepin'!)    

I've found my big, bad Joe Fox.  (F-O-X)  His name is Robby.  And I really, truly wanted it to be him.  I wanted it to be him so badly. 

Now I need my Shop Around the Corner.  

P.S.  I might just be saying this because I currently have the world's worst head cold.  So I would really appreciate it if you all could just go away.        

P.P.S.  I also might be saying this because I feel like I'm totally channeling Kathleen Kelly in my outfit today. This is my proudest style moment.  

                                                                                

Something

I woke up at 3 a.m. today convinced that there was something in my house.

This happens to me periodically.  A few months ago we were robbed, and a few months later some new neighbors moved into the apartment we share a back wall with.   And while I've overheard some interesting-sounding muffled conversations through the vent in our bathroom, I also hear every creak on their stairs and footstep through their hallway.  It is disconcerting hearing the sounds of someone else in my home when they're not in my home.

All this to say why I woke up in the middle of the night convinced that there was something in my house.  I heard a creak and felt a something and saw a shadow.  But, was that shadow just mine?  Was that something just paranoia?

There was still a creak.

I consider waking up the husband that sleeps next to me.  Instead, I go to the bathroom.  I look behind the shower curtain.  I look inside the linen closet.  I look at myself in the mirror.  Nothing.

I go back to bed.  The husband that sleeps next to me stirs.  "What time is it?"

"3:20."

"Okay.  I love you."

A squeeze.

I love him, too.  

I lay in bed for an hour, listening to that husband breathe.  I keep feeling a something that is preventing me from sleeping.  I feel alert, anxious, and...something.

Eventually I get out of bed to investigate the something.  I go downstairs.  I look behind the curtains.  I look between the couches.  I look in the pantry.  I look in the dryer.  Nothing.

But it's not nothing.  It's something.  I am restless.  I consider doing the dishes in the sink, even though that husband upstairs promised to wake up early to do them before he left for work.  But I don't want him to wake up.  Maybe I'll read?

I'll have a cup of tea.  I don't want the sound of the microwave to wake up that husband, so I pour water into a saucepan and turn on the stove.  I get the teacup that the husband I sleep next to gave to me. I stand in front of the stove, and it is warm.  Feeling warm and dozy, I go through the ritual of making tea.  That husband does this for me when I am feeling sick.  Teabag, water, sugar, steep.

I sit on the couch that sits directly below the bed where my husband sleeps.  The clear water in my cup has turned deep amber-brown, and my husband is sleeping.

This is something.

Feelings of love for him steep inside of me, swelling and turning deep amber-brown.  It is something, having a husband that sleeps next to you and squeezes you in the night, that cares about the placement of pictures on the wall because you care about the placement of pictures on the wall, that says everything you cook is delicious, that buys special teacups just for you.  I have a husband, and he loves me.  This is the something I feel.

For now, I'm going to keep sitting on this couch one floor below the bed where my husband sleeps, and I'm going to let this something continue to steep as I enjoy the last, sugar-sweet drops of my tea.

When he wakes up, I'm going to tell him we have got to buy an alarm system.