That being said, I'm writing this one of the coldest days we've had in March. However, instead of sulking, I've decided to write a few things I'm thankful for. So, I put on my favorite Bob Dylan record and curled up on on my futon and came up with these....
Two-oh-six (the blog, not the apartment): Okay, so it’s an entirely self-centered venture and its success (well, success in the blogging world, hit mark is already up to 334!!!) relies solely on the idea that you, as a reader, care about what I, as a writer and maybe even as an actual person, have to say. I've so far made it difficult for you, I admit. My tag cloud emphasizes my obsession with drinking. John and Yoko are also in an abnormally large pictures (don't you worry, I promise you, this will not stop at one blog) I want you to agree with me, or at least sympathize with my trivial problems. And you do. Thank you.
Family: I could talk up my family for hours if you needed me to. I probably do talk about them too much. Unconditional love at its finest, even my sister’s OCD behaviors roll right off my back now that visits home rarely break the 48-hour mark. My dad, the gentle giant. For some reason, picking out Birthday cards, Father Day cards, etc, etc. become some sort of science project searching for the "perfect one" (this weird phenomenon started 2 years ago), I slave trying to find the best card, the one that relates perfectly for him. Subconsciously, I do this because there is not one person whom has ever wanted me to be "happy" and "safe" more than him, and for some reason, I'm trying to always make him know I appreciate it. My mom, thank God I have her. She will forever be my Best Friend and protector. When I have a family, I do not wish for money or nice things, if I am anything like these 3 (very different) people, I will have truly succeeded in life. I associate them with comfort, and a support system I don’t have to worry about, and for that I will always be thankful, whether I’m in the room with them or not.
Distant Friends: I went for coffee yesterday with a girl I spent being best friends with in fifth grade. That’s it. One grade. 180 measly days of Crazy Dippers and Thumbs Up Seven Up during our shared lunch hour. But we’ve kept in touch and although I can tell you her boyfriend's names, the names of her roommates, and her plans for the future, I have not met any of them and wouldn’t have a clue what classes she’s taking this semester. We do not know any of the same people, and there’s comfort in the anonymity your thoughts display as you suddenly pour out your soul to helpless acquaintances. I remain closest to some of my friends from high school for this very reason—and am thankful to have at least one “diary that talks back” and a few others who have always been willing to listen.
My cat and boyfriend and their mutual love for one another: I know. I’ve regressed fifteen years in age, but I just had to put this in here because they looked so goddamn cute cuddling earlier this morning and I’m so thankful that they do not mind the constant close-up photography and subsequent kisses. This relationship has always been a work in progress, but I think, it's finally solid.
Yoga: I honestly can't think of a better way to ease a chattering mind than yoga. How can you not be happy while in Warrior 2 pose,as Ingrid Michaelson repeats in your speakers, in almost a mantra, "all we can do is keep breathing, all we can do is keep breathing...", all while the city skyline is the only thing in your view.
Warmth: Warm clothes, warm cookies, warm personalities, warm conversations, warm beverages, warm apartments. If there’s anything that provokes coziness and contentment, this is it. I’m thankful that, on a day like today (45 degree weather), each one of these has made an appearance. And I hope the same for you.
Having a major that, despite lacking any future employment opportunities or economic stability, allows me to call reading fashion magazines, blogging, and using facebook as "research" : Sometimes I worry that I’m not a legitimate person because I worry over someone saying something negative about Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters! or Rolling Stones folding instead of things like the Flash Mobs in Philly (which I do worry about, 50 minutes a day, three days a week). I spend more time looking at pretty pictures of Jerry Garcia and Mountain Girl than I do reading my “Journalism and Law” textbook. But then I remember how much I enjoy immersing myself in a culture a absolutely connect and feel home with, and that, in theory at least, it will eventually lead to a job where someone will pay me to write about the 60s culture. Thankfully.
Two-oh-six (the apartment, not the blog): Because we still don’t hate each other (I think). For once in my life, I feel content with the social group I have. I honestly think these brilliant, loving group of people, came into my life... just when I needed them. We have grown to know each other’s quirks—both the cute and the obnoxious. I'm the 1st to admit, I'm not the easiest to handle. I'm a little eccentric and full of emotion... I'm unpredictable. However,we've grown accustom to the different personalities we represent and the ways we confront problems. I have faith that this type of bond isn’t the type that ends when the tassels turn, or the diplomas are mailed out. And I’m so thankful, really guys, to always know you’re there.
Okay, I had to....
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