I Love…

…my mom and sister; iTunes; Netflix; Dilettante hot chocolate; fuzzy socks; fuzzy slippers; the ABL, its annual housewarming party and everyone who lives there; Trader Joe’s; the Beach Club where I grew up; hominy bread from Tall Grass Bakery; dressing up; swimming; riding my bike; Jungian analysis from the point of view of the analysand; speaking French; speaking Italian; British TV; my beautiful sheets that get softer each time I wash them; steel-cut oats with dried cranberries; dancing, all sorts; being able to walk to the grocery store; the Monterey Bay Aquarium; otters; built-in bookshelves; knitting circles; hot tubs; naked ladies; brussels sprouts but only the way I make them; breakup songs; the Korean Spa; two-toed sloths; Display and Costume; leather couches; Cascadian Farm granola bars; coming home from the library with a tote bag full of new books; my red suede sneakers; torch singers in slinky outfits; morros y maduros; shelf-bra camis; anti-frizzer; Burt’s Bees ; getting stuff in the mail; the Keeper; Pretty In Pink; East Dorm circa 1995; when “Master And Servant” comes on and I go “Hey, what’s this song about?” and Patri goes “C’mere and let me show you!”; scones; cuddling; oatmeal-raisin cookies; this game that the Key Girls used to play in Marah’s grandmother’s backyard that involved digging moats in the sand and filling them with water and yelling “BREAAAKKK!” when any of them broke; the Key Girls, their husbands, and their babies; the fact that I don’t have to live in Capitol Hill but that I can go there in the rare instances I feel like being cool; pizza a quattro stagione; shared housing; hats; frequent flyer miles; cephalopods, all sorts (but especially Pacific octopus); henna tattoos; real tattoos; people with cool hair; sweater weather; twice-baked potatoes the way my mom makes them; my housemates and our ever-evolving living room theme; fishnet stockings; Sir Pizza; getting email from the person I was just thinking about; getting snail mail from people I met through my online journal; underwater handstands; the fact that since I’m now commuting exclusively by bus I haven’t had to fill up my gas tank for like three weeks; pakora with tamarind sauce; gardenias; sparkly barrettes; my conversation-heart underwear; cats who sit on your chest and purr when you are lying on the couch watching a movie; postcards; gelato, all sorts; chunky shoes; people who know how to make stuff and who sometimes give me the fruits of their labors; Archie McPhee; herb gardens; walking around Paris with my mom; walking around Green Lake with a friend and having a conversation that consists mainly of “I know!” and “Oh, totally. And then what did you say?”; mix CDs; goat cheese in all its manifestations; stained glass; marmots; magazines; my beautiful green Art Deco lamp that I need to have fixed; silicone spatulas; strawberry fruit pops; Target; karaoke; Cranberry Craze Jamba Juice; conveyor-belt sushi; those funny black beetles with the two bioluminescent spots on their backs; MATH+1; exact change; hybrid vehicles; echinoderms, all sorts (but especially sea urchins); kissing with tongue; I Heart Rummage; writing this journal; everyone who reads this journal.