*My roommate told me she'd evict me if I titled this post anything else, and I quite like my bed soooo... bear with me and this cheese. Thank you and moving forward.
"I wish I could enjoy life as much as the two of you seem to," commented my dear friend George. He found us flopped on a hammock at 10pm, Leighton Meester's Summer Girl blasting quietly from my phone, faces red, fresh from a 7 minute run that was thisclose to killing me. You guys know that I don't run, and I rediscovered tonight why I don't: because 7 minutes of this madness had me convinced that I collapsed a lung and sprained an arm muscle ... how, I don't even know and could never tell you.
But *ahem I digress*, those words from George were some of the nicest ever said to me. He likely never meant it as some sort of a profound compliment, but I took it as so. It gave me pause, shook me to the core, and gave to me a sense of meaning that I otherwise would have overlooked.
My first instinct was to laugh it off with a "no, stop, not even." I mean, I can think of 99 problems right this minute that are irritating me to no end - a collapsed lung, for one, and the fact that I cannot see my floor yes that's how messy my room's become - and three hundred and fifty stressors that are sure to overwhelm me in the coming days. I berate myself when I excuse myself from yet another night out in favor for Netflix (but LEGALLY BLONDE 1 AND 2 though), and tell myself I need to do this more and that less and go here, fix that, work on x, y, z.
But then, I thought about my weekend, and the week leading up to it. You guys, it was so full. I chose to find and do and see and chase the things that make me happy. The proof is in the Camera Roll. Staying up until 4am watching Good Luck Chuck and eating microwaved taquitos. Taking long walks after dinner. Finding a plethora of blooming roses, and spending an hour sniffing every last one, bumblebees be gone! Sprinting and racing each other up the stairs at 11:59, donuts in hand, to make it to a friend's 21st birthday at midnight, and bursting through her door with two seconds to spare. Driving in the freezing night with the convertible top down. Driving in sunny SF with the top down, too.
Eating pints of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie at the parking lot of an observatory, trying to tell this constellation from that, all the while fearing mountain lions and serial killers. Splurging on Luxury Lounger seats to watch The Avengers at midnight (so also I decided I want to live in a Luxury Lounger) and on large ICEEs and hot dogs and sour candy too. Ordering too much at Korean BBQ because a dinner ain't over until the Asian family gets full, which is basically never.
Jumping out of bed, into the nearest pants, and then getting into the car to spend a couple of hours in San Francisco, almond milk mochas and new dresses and favorite pizzas included, just because opportunity arose in the form of a friend missing a flight connection. Ditching public transportation in favor of walking around Pac Heights with my sister. Deciding on even more pizza, washed down with blood orange bellinis and accompanied by the mildest of Bay Area nights, twinkle lights, and the two best friends a girl could have.
There's more. So much more. I replay these moments in my mind as a trailer for a Lifetime movie based on a true story of those who are willing to live as the story gets told, to accept what's scary and sucky and not fair and sad, and overcompensate with the very things that we value most. We aren't content simply with watching our lives unfold - we want to be the ones doing the unfolding, and peppering it with the quips and footnotes and P.S's that we see fit.