The Sayer and the Namer

The rest of my good/bad/happy/sad's of the day are not nearly as profound or important to me. My next bad was when I got onto the treadmill. As if running on a treadmill isn't bad enough, I wanted to quit after about 10 seconds. I usually have a (tiny) bit more motivation than that. The good came when some Bob Marley started singing "Don't worry about a thing; every little thing is gonna be alright," and it was absolutely what I needed to hear. I realized that I was making lists, guidelines, schedules, plans, daily goals, etc. I was also probably still a little shaken from my dream, the injustice in the world, the stinking ridiculous oil spill, stupid stuff to worry about because I have *no* control over it, stuff like that. Bob helped me chill out and gave me the clear headedness to finish my run. Author's Note: I'll be honest, when I say "run," I mean jog. Slow jog. Don't be impressed :)

Good/bad/happy/sad of the day #3: We had some flash floods yesterday in the old OKC. If we have not been plagued by bad weather this year, you can call me Shirly. (I have NO idea what that means or if it even makes sense. It might be from a movie? Or maybe I just made it up? Regardless, it just came out, and I thought it was so random and dorky that I didn't edit it out). You get my point. So anyway, word is that there were no casualties of the flood,

I don't know if you can read the tiny print on the bridge, so I'll translate: "Summer Fiction: 20 under 40" of the New Yorker. This is the reason I subscribe to the New Yorker - it's excerpts from 20 new/cool/hip/fab/trendy/fantastic/creative/I-want-to-be-them authors. It was joy and bliss when I realized what issue it was, because honestly, I kind of forgot about it. Like when you find money in your jeans type of happiness.

Overall, I like the way today played out. Sure, if I had my choice, everything would be happy all the time, and I would have avoided the bad. Who wouldn't want that? But isn't that a small picture of life: there's lots of happy and good, but there's lots of bad and sad. It's a balancing act.

I want to be in London. Like, I live there, but just temporarily. Maybe for 3 months or something. Anyway, I'd be in a cool little flat - this one to be exact:

http://www.homeaway.com/vacation-rental/p166987 .

So I'd wake up at about 10:00. (By the way, I can just see you, my bloggy friends, with your judgement in your eyes about the time. Yes, I'm 29, and I still like to sleep in. I hate early mornings. It's my daydream, so there! Harrumph.) Anyway, I roll out of my bed and look out the windows and see this:

...and I'm pretty satisfied. Then I get a latte that is somehow already perfectly made. It's in a cool mug and it's got a design in the foam. Like this:

I'm gonna go ahead and say that I'll have two of these lattes along with my breakfast of cheese crepes. Since it's my daydream, calories don't exist, so that's that.

I'd take a shower and put on some really adorable romantic outfit from a little boutique in London, since that's all my closet will be comprised of, and I'll be out the door.

Justin and I will meet for lunch at a cute little bakery somewhere, and we'll get a yummy lunch and some tea, then it's off to work for the afternoon (here's where it gets really good)

I'll go to some really cool, old university building and I'll go to a class with a really brilliant instructor. I'll admit - it's gotta be a woman, because that'll make me feel more empowered. Don't get all touchy, I realize that's kind of a sexist statement, but I'm just keeping it real, bloggy friends. The subject of my study for my 3 month stay in London is American Literature. I know that seems a little backward, to go to England to study American Literature, but again, it's my daydream, so that's just the way it is.

Today, it's Walt Whitman on the agenda. It's not really a formal class I'm in, just kind of a study program kind of thing. We'll read parts of Leaves of Grass, then discuss and analyze. We'll do the same with my Transcendentalists (Emerson and Thoreau), we'll look at William Faulkner, Tennessee Williams, Fitzgerald, Mark Twain, Sylvia Plath, lots of fun writers. We'll read and talk and read and talk about the diction, the structure, the flow, and the meaning. I'll learn some kind of amazing insight into Whitman that I would never be able to

know from reading it on my own, and I'm positive it will help me with my writing. My head will be full of all kinds of creativity and ideas, and I'll be tired and ready to quit for the day.

I'll meet back up with Justin and we'll go to a cool, trendy spot for dinner. We might run into David Beckham or Prince William or somebody, who knows? (Since it's my daydream, I can confirm that we run into both of these people, and they're the friendliest people in the world). Then we'll take a little stroll down the Thames holding hands and laughing about silly stuff. We'll get back to the flat and get Buckley to go to Hyde Park to play ball and go on a dusky, sunset walk.

We'll all be tired by then, so we'll hang out on the porch and look at London by night, then go to bed.

So there we have it, that's what I want to do today. Pretty sure my day is going to look just a little different than that though...and that's okay too :) Happy day (and daydreaming) everyone!