Let's Make a Deal

Dear sunlight fairies:
While it's tricky for us ray-adoring fans to jump out of bed sans le soleil, I completely understand your need for rest. You worked all weekend, so it's only natural that you've been hitting the snooze button a little longer than usual. I'm OK with that. In fact, the mounds of work that have piled up might benefit from a few extra layers of copious cloud cover.

So how about this: in exchange for blue-less morning skies, will you promise to resume your 6am wake-up calls the minute Saturday morning rolls around? Friday would be super-fabulous, too, but that might be pushing it.

Worshippingly yours,
Los Angeles.

Memorialized

In addition to remembering those we've lost, it never hurts to consider those we so gloriously have. Fittingly so, this day tends to include both sunlight and barbecue: both addictively pleasant and equally celebratory.

But when today ceases to be and pre-dawn lingers, most will resume Tuesday's auto-pilot, often-times forgetting what the day before brought.

Which brings me to what I've been spotting all day: personalized plates. And though I'm not sure I'd drive around town with "V8 JUICE" or "RLRCSTER" on the back of my Element, I do respect anyone who dares be original.

And what screams "me" more than a silver Mercedes flaunting "NODECAY"?

Cure-All

Stand up. Arms straight above your head. Open your fingers, just like you did when you painted with your hands in 3rd grade. Shake your hips from side to side. Sway your arms any which way. Smile. Beam. Glitter with sunlight.

You're doing the happy dance.

No matter what tunes are blasting, and who happens to be near, this magical motion brings only sparkly thoughts and moon-struck laughter to all things.

Try it. Guaranteed minutes of pure, uncluttered joy.

Luxurious Littles

I think it's because it's the Friday before a super-long weekend that my mind is wafting toward miniature moments. Slices of happy that carry me, at least, through weeks filled with work toward free days of relaxation. So, 10 tidbits of daily life that result in pause, pondering and reprieve from anything less than lovely:

1. Diet Dr. Pepper
2. Grapenuts topped with banana slivers
3. Cheese and olives
4. iPod-kissed dog walks
5. 80s morning music
6. Peach-flavored anything
7. Open windows
8. Recipe Wednesdays
9. Perfect morning coffee
10. Serendipitous rocks

Make your own list. It's easier than you think.

Bee Wise

Unless you're driving a car, there's really no reason not to be reading at all times -- and even then you could probably get in a sentence or two during stop-light intervals.

All you need is two minutes to pick up a snippet like this one, courtesy of "The Secret Life of Bees":

• Don't be afraid, as no life-loving bee wants to sting you.
• Still, don't be an idiot: wear long sleaves and long pants.
• Don't swat.
• Don't even think about swatting.
• If you feel angry, whistle.
• Anger irritates, while whistling melts a bee's temper.
• Act like you know what you're doing, even if you don't.
• Above all, send the bees love.

Makes you think, doesn't it?

Brilliantly Blue

Aside from the plush leathers seats, the gate-to-gate availability of DirecTV and the delightful surprise inherent in discovering Terra Blue potato chips instead of over-salted peanuts, JetBlue rules.

When we landed in DC, we spent a few extra moments -- well, probably more like 15 -- on the runway, waiting for an open gate. Since the iPod has completely transformed my traveling experience, I was fine with an additional sliver of Kim Carson and Old 97s-infused Whiskeytown.

The next day, this pops into my inbox:

Dear Malin,

Thank you for flying with JetBlue Airways on May 22, 2005. We regret that we did not operate your flight as scheduled and sincerely apologize for the inconvenience the delay at the gate may have caused you.

As a gesture of apology and goodwill, we have issued you a $25 JetBlue electronic voucher.

Genius.

Fixation

Photo caption from page 2 of today's LA Times:

"A day after a picture of Saddam Hussein in his underwear was published, police in Baghdad read about more photos. The Red Cross said Hussein's right to privacy was violated."

I'm not sure what's more disturbing.

1. The selection of this as a news-worthy tidbit; or
2. The inevitable conclusion that this is probably pretty representative of media coverage a la 2005.

Makin' Groceries

"Make some time to lose track of."

Brilliantly simple. Clearly doable. Yet, somehow, slightly evasive.

I dare you to try it. And when you're in the midst of it all -- gloriously worry-free and completely separated from all things less than lovely -- ignore the source. It's a Citibank commercial. Sad & definitely telling. We now need banking institutions to remind us how to live.

Oh. And if you can, pepper your days with leisure a la Fais Do Do.

Ponder-Worthy

Gruyere or Muenster? Dijon or plain-old-yellow? Decidedly mis-matched or perfectly coordinated? Odd, really, if you pause and consider your daily deliberations. If life is a series of questions waiting for answers, then does that mean every second not spent musing over responses is a bygone moment? Not sure. I do know that compiling my most memorable contemplative minutes inevitably draws me to my dresser: the land of PJ-possibilities. Delicious days translate to pink hearts and silly sadness calls for rockstar T-shirts meant to embolden and invigorate. Seriously. Anyone who defaults to "whatever" is missing the glamorous glitter that transpires during sleep-induced dawn.

Simply Samsonite

The handle broke en route to JazzFest, but miraculously, after tape intervention and lots of happy-wishful thoughts, it finally popped up on the luggage carousel. After days of delicious, drinking debauchery, my lucky stars prevailed and the bright red plastic patched up mess boisterously bumped its way toward me at LAX baggage claim. So needless to say, we've been through a lot. Funny how that pretty much applies to luggage of all sorts. Real and fakey. Ridiculously red and transparently ethereal. Last week, I left it on the curb for my friendly garbage-collecting crew. Walking back to the front door, I turned, just for a last peek. And there it sat. Or dangled on its side, really. Banged up and oddly sad, but defiantly determined to hold itself together. And it really did. Fifteen years of traveling and alloted less-than-ideal closet space for its size. Weird. It's like saying goodbye to an era. Exciting, but slightly daunting. Sigh. Baggage. Where would we be without it?

Song Soliloquy

It's not that I don't like the concept of scrap-booking. It's more the idea of feeling constrained by glue and pictures and captions. So I've been trying to tie song lyrics to those moments in the past that demand memorable status. Because although I like to believe I can recall tantalizing snippets and life-altering tidbits on the fly, the reality is that sadly, I can't. Instead of tedious journal entries or the albatross that is my camera -- or lack of owning one -- I've made a snapshot list of lyrics that carry me backwards on days that call for reflection:

• jambalay, crawfish pie, file gumbo
• you could have heard a pin drop, when tommy stopped, and locked the door
• good-bye san francisco, hello amsterdam
• losing hope is easy
• i found a bunch of letters that were written for the fellow who broke your mama's heart