Reason Number 8^2: Warmer Weather Than Previously Anticipated

Oh lord. Back in the city, which is slushier than I'd like, but at least the weather is warmer than it could be.

My black t shirt is coated in angora from my brand new sweater present, and my hearing is impaired from flying.

But naps are grand, and I will take one, along with a scone. Along with DayQuil. And potentially (!) a hot toddy if I can find some scotch in time.

New Year, New Sheets, and also I found a never-been-used memory stick in my closet in Georgia that I will use to transfer at least a few files to my new computer.

I also read a bunch of old, excruciatingly embarrassing letters I randomly found in the bowels of my desk, which probably hasn't been unlocked in seven years. I think, above most things, it's important to embrace whatever kind of lameness your past holds, never letting it keep you down, but also never letting yourself forget who you were, how much you've learned.

Reason Number JESUS: People.

Today, I am annoyed by humans. Very. Also, I have a cold that makes me sneeze every ten seconds or so and makes my nose and eyes embarrassingly red. Nothing like a handful of wet tissues and perpetual snot dribble to make me feel repulsive.

I did find suede pants in my size for a billion percent off, and they're not too long, and the perfect buttery color and consistency. And also very warm.

In spite of my extraordinary perfectionism in high school and (parts of) college, I've never once protested a grade.

But in spite of it all there are sphinx kittens spreading their slithery paws and batting at tepid bathwater with intimidating speed.

And a whole new year to look forward to, preceded by a lame annoying night of partying in the presence of assholes. Or, in my case, hanging out by myself, or possibly watching male strippers prance on top of a bar with a dear dear friend. The things we do! Especially on ridiculous, terrible holidays of death.

I'm grateful, though. And I appreciate the perpetuity of nasal cleansing, calcium supplement ingestion, and, when I get around to it, exercise.

Reason Number 100000: Story Balm, Overshare

"How would you write the perfect story of getting a pap smear?"

--Gynecologist, This Morning, upon my admission to being a writer

Hands down, the best question any doctor has ever asked me. It really made me think, how would I tell the perfect story of getting a pap smear? As I drove to make manifest my prescription for Nasonex, and also to purchase a Neti-Pot for the purpose of alleviating extraordinary nasal congestion--for those of you with sinus problems, I discovered today that this bizarre blue teapot works wonders, though it feels counterintuitively uncomfortable--I realized that because of one thoughtful physician I could go back and revise a years-old story, potentially with better results than I'd thought possible.

Thank goodness for no surgery. Daily nasal exercises, equalizing pressure. Perpetuity.

Today, after hospital overkill, I will grade. And also seek out antiques beforehand.

I would give anything to be in the library right now. Peace and quiet, the imminence of a low-hanging concrete ceiling, the soft mildewy odor of brittle Asian volumes. Rarely visited study spots. And more.

Reason Number 100: Eat, Pray, Suck

I got a very much needed new computer for Christmas, for which I am extraordinarily grateful.

Not worrying I'm going to lose my entire thesis is something to not kill myself over, that's for sure. I am knocking on proverbial wood as I type that. Because there is no wood in close proximity. But oh, if there were!

Ely ate a bunch of candy canes and puked like eight times all over the living room floor. There were little candy-cane colored puddles to prove it.

Sometimes I worry blogging is selfish, or self-absorbed, or not as edifying as reading the Canterbury Tales in the original Middle English, or singing to nursing home patients, or a number of other things that aren't sitting by myself in front of a computer generating sentences from random musings and a menagerie of neuroses. But I guess it's alright. It's like a less serious writing exercise, a form of release for a small audience, or not even.

Reason Number 666: Pnumonic Dervish

When I was in eighth grade, I employed a Third Eye Blind song* as a mnemonic device for remembering the polyatomic ions. It still winds its way into my head sometimes. Like today, I'm googling for ways to clean the insides of my shearling clog boots, the general consensus being sodium bicarbonate, which is actually a chemical compound, but bicarbonate is a polyatomic ion, at least it was according to Third Eye Blind, who also reminded us, please, to step away from that ledge. It sucks I don't actually know a damn thing about chemistry, but I do remember strings of words like crazy.

Especially song lyrics.

Incidentally, I always forget how to drive, but then my terrible driving skills haunt me when no one's around my mom's house and I NEED to drive to the Dunwoody Cobbler to have some shoes repaired, or purchase a large cup of highly-caffeinated coffee without killing myself and everyone in the process.

Embarrassing fact: I didn't realize exactly how to cut, copy, paste by keyboard until two days ago. For some reason I feel the need to admit this over the internet rather than with individual people. At least it's in the open and off my chest (cliche x 2).

Laguardia Airport has eliminated their Starbucks and replaced it with some kind of strange replica of hipstery Brooklyn coffee shops, complete with pour-over! I died a little, mostly in embarrassment over my excitement and relief that I could experience this brewing method before an overcrowded, uncomfortable flight full of crippling anxiety.

*I dare you to guess which one!!

Psst, I also used Celine Dion's "Because You Loved Me" to memorize the steps to the scientific method.

Reason Number KITTIES: Candy Canes

You know those multi-colored candy canes difficult to locate in your average pharmacy, and when you do manage to locate them are usually suffocating beneath some kind of reject sale candy batholith (BWAH geology plus edibles)? The ones that unexpectedly taste like the best cherry cough syrup, as opposed to peppermint?! I found some on a CVS outing the other day, the purpose of which was hairbrush-buying, because my hair at its current length has become increasingly prone to tangles, which makes me feel totally insane. Breaking from the process of determining potential hairbrush effectiveness, the exhaustive struggle to narrow down myriad offerings of spiral brushes and paddle brushes, I came across these incredible candy canes, because of their rarity almost exclusively reserved for private personal fantasies only, and ate one on the way home. I also bought some really ugly gloves that I'm almost embarrassed to wear because they are hot pink and my reservoir tip hat is RED. But fuck. Three dollars.

Caring for a cat is less difficult than finding a job, but more difficult than listening to Steely Dan's Greatest Hits, I'd imagine.

I never thought I'd become a nail biting person, but here we are. My middle finger is starting to embarrass me. The last time I got a manicure, which was not recently, the lady pointed to it and guffawed in a manner so sincere I couldn't even find myself angry.

Anger is unusual, but not persistent humiliation!

Pizza is never something to balk at.

I still need to knit a hat.

Everyone and I mean everyone should read Lydia Davis's collected works. Seriously, if you don't buy it immediately, or at least check it out of your nearest public library, you will never read about neighbors masturbating with oboes. A grave tragedy, and I'm not even kidding.