So much to parse this morning. Jackles has been busy. So! Happy! and pulling another all-nighter.
First this Tweet at about 1 a.m.:
The truth is, I’ve been in a crazy love affair for almost five years. We have our ups & downs, but I can’t imagine anything else. I LOVE NYC.
Thanks for letting us know, Carrie Bradshaw. We’ve been waiting with bated breath.
And then there’s this … so fascinating. It’s always thrilling when Jackles delves into biology and philosophy because she’s such a towering intellect. “Plato … wow … just wow. Smart.com!”
Today, as part of a project I’m working on, I was asked to list my “favorite things.” I have to admit, at first I thought, “Oh, that’s so silly.” But as I sat there and brainstormed, I realized I was smiling. If we spent a bit more time thinking about what makes us happy instead of thinking about what makes us sad/upset/angry, I think … well – I think we’d be happier! (Duh.) Try it right now. Write out your list and send it to me. Or don’t send it to me! Just write it out. Do it now!
As my “Meet Me” says (and has for some time), I love conversation more than anything else in the world – specifically those encompassing sociology, biology, psychology, philosophy, architecture, media, technology, feminism, spirituality, personal growth and the absurd machinations between men & women otherwise known as “dating.”
Of course I adore my family, my shih-tzu Lilly and my girl friends … but the exercise was to brainstorm – no condescending judgments – everything that made me smile. My favorite things!
So let’s see … I love Twitter, the color pink, headbands, tutus, ballet, fleece pajamas, bubble baths, mascara which doesn’t lead to raccoon eyes, tennis gear as daywear, tech conferences, the tv shows Gossip Girl, 30 Rock, and The West Wing, the musician Justin Vernon (Bon Iver), that incredible tension-filled moment before a first kiss, 50s style fashion, the Lacoste alligator, 5 inch heels which don’t hurt, DVF, Betsey Johnson, Lilly Pulitzer & Oscar de la Renta, “Sunday check-in” voicemails from my dad, bathing suits which flatten my stomach and A-line skirts which cover my derriere, girls who wear ribbons in their hair, my iPhone, my MacBook Air, my Canon SD780IS, the blogging platform Tumblr, men who pop their pink polo shirt collars un-ironically, families who wear matching outfits in their Christmas card photos, spicy tuna rolls, 4 am, Starbucks hazelnut lattes, Martha Beck, PotteryBarn for Teens, chamois sheets, dresses as wall art, quilted Chanel bags, pearls, the silence that comes when it snows, flowers sent by boys, emails from my mom, and rap music. And I am absolutely obsessed with cupcakes.
I also don’t mind handwritten love letters, although no one has sent me one in years – except my Grandmother.
I love her, too.
And then she ends the night, at about 6 a.m., revealing the Jackles we all know and love — making a thinly veiled swipe at someone and pulling out the old [REDACTED].
Me: Ew, he’s just as douchebaggy as ever, btw. NOT THAT I SHOULD BE SURPRISED BY THAT.
Friend: Sigh. I disengaged a long time ago. It’s hard to reconcile the [redacted] you know to the public [redacted]
Me: If I could drop kick him off a bridge …
Friend: I wish he would move away.
Me: That’s the biggest problem with him. He’s like a fucking fungus. HE. WILL. NOT. LEAVE.
Friend: It’s getting worse too.
Me: Do they make a spray for assholes like him? A toxic man-disinfectant? A man-fectant?
Friend: I would buy that.
Any guesses? I’m thinking Forman, someone she’s already bitterly called a douchebag on her blog before, in an exchange with Rambo, and then claimed it was “just a joke” between friends when called out on it by a TMI WeeklyShitShow commenter.