I was always pretty neutral on the subject of Ms. McAdams until I read an article a few months ago that followed her to a book-club meeting in Toronto. I'm helpless against avid readers. Even female ones. In this article I learned that she chooses public healthcare over privatized (in Canada--where there's such an option) and I think that's just plain cool.
The format for the Vogue article was inspired by the Keel's Simple Diary that I want/ McAdams writes in every night before bed. Being the copy cat that I am, I'm going to borrow the format that Vogue borrowed from Keel's. It seems fair enough, right?
Your Day Began: (Only choose one)
( ) Tapping the snooze alarm more than twice
(X) With a healthy on-the-go breakfast.
( ) Scrambling to get to work on time.
Most days that feature impending work, I'll hit the snooze alarm for over an hour--trying my damnedest to put it off. But let's be honest, that always, always leads to the third option far more often than I would like to admit. But this morning, I got out of bed an hour and a half early, had a shower, dried my hair, applied make up (!) and took a banana and a bag of almonds on a walk with me to the deli. I was so proud of myself and vowed to have a day full of healthy, clean eating. That plan worked out alright until I suffered a mind-stabbing headache and used three glasses of Pepsi to squelch it. It worked, but think of all the sugar intake.
You are Seeking: (Only choose one)
(X) The most perfect bag
( ) Bread baking skills
( ) Mr. Right
SWF seeking messenger bag with modern, adult flair. Grey is preferable but will work with other colors. I'm on the fence regarding my baking career. To continue, to abandon. That's the question. I know that I could get better if I tried a whole lot more but, to be completely honest and a little bit lazy, it's just messy. And I can't get bread to have that nice, chewy texture. It's always mealy and never raises enough. And Mr. Right... not even a question.
Your Perfect Day in: (describe)
1983: Most of this year was spent in utero, on my head. It makes me dizzy to remember it.
1995: Let's see, what was going on in '95? My class went on a field trip to the Wichita Zoo and at a rest stop there were pictures of Timothy McVeigh, who was still on the loose. Way to freak out a group of 6th graders, eh? Million Man March launches on Washington. My teacher, Mrs. Poole, called off class for an entire day in October so we could learn the OJ Simpson verdict. Then we had a lesson on the difference between "guilty", "not-guilty", and "innocent."
My perfect day revolved around taking spelling tests (which I never, ever failed), and studying geodes and then walking home and playing in our play house until the sun went down and mom called us in for spaghetti.
2002: I graduated... we spent a lot of time renovating our house and watching HGTV. The best days involved sleeping in very late, driving--anywhere that I possibly could and watching Friends on Thursday nights. I would rearrange plans to watch that show.
Your Perfect Day, Today: (describe)
Early to bed, early to rise. That's how I like to roll these days. Wake up early, go to the library, hit the coffee shop for hours of comfy reading and writing. In a perfect world (which is what I'm describing here), I'd walk over to Amic's for couscous and sangria and then hang out with Genesis and Amos. This will all happen in 63 degree weather.
That Special Someone:
( ) What special someone?
( ) Which special someone?
(X) No comment.
The other day at work, I announced that Valentine's Day is my favorite holiday. It's true, it is. I like Valentine's Day more than I like Christmas. That topic is for another blog on another day. But my friend, Sarah, said "Well, but you've never wanted a boyfriend." Initially, I felt like that was a strong over-idealization but I think that really is what it's about. There hasn't ever really been a time in my life when I wanted a boyfriend for the sake of having one. Back in the day it came down to the fact that I didn't think anyone would want me, anyway, so I didn't even consider a boyfriend an option (that's sad, sure, but in retrospect it really saved me from a lot of mess and complication). These days I really do believe that I'm quite the catch. I'm no Rachel McAdams but, really, who is? I've spent the past six or so years getting to know myself on purpose. In that, I've learned that I can carve out my own identity and that in doing so I'll find more fulfillment than I could ever get from another person. Subsequently, I know that I have a hell of a lot more to offer than a person who is looking for an identity anywhere else. Therefore, I'm not bitter about my lack of lackey. I'm happy to have Valentines Day and a day specifically designed to love. And, sure, it's true, you can love any day of the year but how great is it that we get a whole one devoted to it? I think wearing black on V Day and hating it because of one's lack of snuggle buddy is pretty much the most selfish way to spend a day devoted to love--but again this isn't the place for that. This is just the place to say that while I would love some lilies delivered to my house--I know myself and I like myself and I'm more than happy to continue to do so unless and until someone else wants to do the same next to me.
To Embrace Change Means:
Supporting Obama? Haha. I kid, I kid (not that it would hurt). Change in my life has always been signified by a serious hair change. Cut. Color. Parting it down the middle... My current change is the absense of change. Sounds silly? I've been coloring my hair since 8th grade and right now it's the same hair I was born with. And it's beautiful.
If Life's a Party, You Can Be Found: (make a list)
Sitting at the dining room table or on a couch visiting with whoever seems to be in the vicinity.
Topping out at 3/4 of a beer.
Over grazing the vegetable platter.
What Your Fans Say:
Well, that's what the comment section is for.