5 Things That Make Me Happy and Giggly Like a Newborn with Gas
The original intent for this post was very different. It was entitled “5 Things That Make Me Mind-Numbingly Furious” and I was planning on writing it because I was in a foul mood for a variety of reasons. I felt tired and petulant and my inner child was drumming his heels on the floor and screaming at the top of his lungs about how life was unfair and throwing breakfast around and the rest of the conclave that makes up the ownership of my brain wanted to beat the living shit out of him, although they were on the verge of conceding that life really is pretty goddamn unfair and the wailing toddler was making a lot of sense and maybe the only solution was to lash out at everyone and everything and maybe mix in a little turd-throwing and so on until one part of my brain was like “Hey, let’s write a blog post about shit that makes us honest-to-fucking-god pissed, not fake pissed” and the rest of me was like “good idea” and so I wrote the preamble and was about to list the things when I stopped and realized that maybe, just maybe, thinking about things that actually make me mad would probably do the opposite thing of making me less mad and only more mad and it probably wouldn’t be funny so my Inner Adult finally put his coffee cup down, told everyone to shut the fuck up, table the blog idea, and just fucking think about something else before Inner Adult took Inner Gaggle of Whiners to the woodshed and tanned some asses.
Side note: If you want to wake up angry, watch “Too Big to Fail” just before going to bed. It’ll take an effort to resist waking up, getting into your car, driving to New York, and indiscriminately driving up and down the sidewalk on Wall Street in an attempt to rid the world of “bankers” one thump-reverse-thump-drive-thump-reverse-for-good-measure-thump-and-what-the-hell-one-last-time-thump-reverse-better-be-sure-thump at a time. Or maybe that’s just me.
Anyway, short story more succinctly put – I didn’t write that post.
Instead, it was suggested by a nightingale near-and-dear to me that instead of frothy anger blog, try writing “5 Things That Make Me Smile-Til-My-Face-Hurts Happy”. After blinking several times as my brain tried to process the concept of “happy” mixed with “my blog” I decided to give it a shot. So here we go – 5 things that make me happy as shit on a day where I’d normally rant about the inconsistency of hotel waffles.
I know, I know – this is new to me too.
One puppy is enough to make my voice suddenly go into a dopey imitation of what I imagine a puppy sounds like, no matter where I am, including the first time I walked into my new girlfriend’s parents’ house for the first time, so when they meet me I’m talking like a four-year-old on Quaaludes. That’s just from one puppy. Two or more puppies and I’m on the floor faster than a kid in a department store shopping with Mom (as an aside, there is little that more inexplicably comfortable that the horribly carpeted floor under a clearance rack of coats when you’re five. They should make beds out of that. Actually, that sounds horrible. Never mind) and I’m rolling around and laughing and half-heartedly fending off lolling puppy tongues on my face and I’m deliriously happy.
Side note: I have no idea how people who prefer cats to dogs operate. They’re just shy of aliens to me.
In fact, puppies are so goddamn awesome that there is only one creature on earth that can compete with them in terms of brain-addling adorability and joy-inducement:
Holy shit, otters. If there is something more adorable than a goddamn otter floating on its back opening a shell that rests on its tummy (Fact: otters do not have stomachs. They only have tummies. Look at a picture of an otter and it takes a force of will beyond the ken of man or Jedi to call it anything other than a tummy. I never use that word, but otters make me say “Tummy tummy tummy” in my head until I have to lie down for a while), I don’t know what it is.
Oh wait, yes I do. IT’S TWO OTTERS HOLDING HANDS AS THEY SLEEP SO THEY DON’T DRIFT AWAY FROM EACH OTHER AND OH MY GOD THIS IS SO AMAZING AND AWESOME AND MAKES ME SO HAPPY THAT IT ALMOST MAKES ME MAD THAT I’M NOT AN OTTER AND THEN I’M ALL HAPPY AGAIN BECAUSE HOLY SHIT THE UNIVERSE IS A BEAUTIFUL PLACE AND IF WE ALL JUST WATCHED OTTERS MORE OFTEN THERE WOULD BE NO MORE WAR OR GREED OR BANKERS AND WE’D LIVE IN A PERFECT UTOPIA OF HOLDING HANDS AND TUMMIES.
There is only one day a week that is really worth a shit. There is only one day a week where I can (in theory) get out of bed when I choose to AND I can (in theory) go to bed whenever I want. Fucking Saturdays, man. I make it through the rest of the week because of that one shiny day where I can do whatever I want and be as lazy as I want and yet still somehow I get up earlier than I do during the workweek because I’ve decided to run a 5k when I’ve barely walked 5k in a single day since birth and I’ve never run a race before and I’ve trained like two weeks for this and have to be there at sunrise for reasons inexplicable AND YET it’s a happy beautiful fucking thing for one reason: Saturdays, man. I keep gettin’ older, and they still stay the same day.
I love the woods. The crack about not walking 5k in a single day was a total lie because I will LITRALLY (Chris Traeger voice) walk all day in the woods and be blissfully happy. When my life was bleakest I spent all my time in the woods, the best night of my life was spent in the woods, the place I proposed to my fiancée was in the woods. There is something magical and spiritual about them to me – yes, the devout atheist – and I get a feeling of awe and wonder and I can’t help but smile at the crunching leaves underfoot and the breeze through the treetops and the occasional glimpse of deer or turtle or some animal and everything feels calm and peaceful and joyous and beautiful.
Plus, there’s always the chance you’ll see an otter OTTERS OTTERS TUMMIES OTTERS TUMMIES YAY!!!!!
Not to get all mushy – actually, you know what? I’m getting mushy and I’m not gonna apologize for it, so if you’re allergic to mush go read this rant about World War Z instead – but there is nothing on earth that makes me happier than my ladylove. She’s the funniest person I’ve ever met, the kindest person I’ve ever known, brilliant, beautiful, silly, sexy, strong, sweet, talented, driven, and delightful. The best night of my life was planned and executed as a surprise by her, and I want to tell you all about it but at the same time it’s none of your business so I won’t. She once recorded Galadriel’s parting song from The Lord of the Rings at her mother’s request and when she played it for me I cried because it was so beautiful and made me so happy that I didn’t know what else to do. Plus, she loves puppies and otters (TUMMIES OMG TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY) and the woods as much as I do. For some reason she prefers Thursdays to Saturdays but that’s her only imperfection and that just makes the rest of her awesomeness stand out even more.
She’s my jam.
So there you have it. Some mother-fuckin’ happiness all smooshed into your face like wedding cake in the hands of someone who probably doesn’t like you much and kinda wants to humiliate you in front of your friends and family but married you anyway. Now go out there, tramp through some woods, and look for some otters!
On your way back, run over a few bankers. Because that also makes me giggle and squee.