In that spirit, I've decided to inject some positivity into my own blog. I mean, if the worst thing that ever happens to you in life is that your ass gets detached and you have to walk like a zombie for a little while (knock on wood that it's only a little while), then you can count your blessings. So here, then, is a brief list of Things That Rocked This Week.
- Watching the sun rise at Dunkin Donuts with A. at 5:45 a.m on the way to the train station. I am lucky to have a friend who's willing to get up at obscene hours to drive me places. I am also lucky that coffee exists in the universe.
- Getting to come back to Vancouver for a little while and see my friends and family.
- My mom's Easter feast. When Warren Zevon was dying of lung cancer and was asked by his pal David Letterman if he had any advice about living/dying, he said, "Enjoy every sandwich." I enjoyed every sandwich. And every slice of turkey. And about 18 pounds of Easter candy, especially anything with the word "mellowcreme" or "mallowcreme" in its name. What is "mallowcreme?" Lord knows. Probably rendered beef fat and high-fructose corn syrup, but man do those little pastel-colored candies go down easy.
- My awesome job. I worked at a wheelchair rugby tournament this weekend and somehow ended up doing the play-by-play commentary for the webcasts, which would not normally be a problem (as you can imagine, I'm a talker) but for the fact that I know next to nothing about wheelchair rugby. Happily, Kevin Orr and Duncan Campbell were there to provide the expert commentary, while I was there to get the rules wrong, the names of the players wrong, the team names wrong, and say "um" a lot. It was actually a lot of fun, and now I know how to play wheelchair rugby. (If you want to see me in action, check out www.sportscanada.tv)
- The fact that my awesome job allowed me to reconnect with some friends I haven't seen in ages and reminisce about the old days...when I once got stranded on a Greek island without any of my luggage and was rescued by three Canadian wheelchair rugby players. By "rescued," I mean "given a jacket and enough alcohol that I no longer cared what country I was in." You know those St. Bernards with the barrel of rum around their necks? Same principle. Anyhow, it was good to see D. and be filled in (six years later) about the drunken exploits I do not remember.
- My mom bought me two nifty sweaters! One has an owl on it!
- The fact that the Edible Book Competition is approaching. I still have not decided what my entry will be (and even if I did it would clearly be classified information. The Edible Book Competition is serious business!), but whatever it ends up being, I'll probably spend at least a few days covered in molten Starburst, which is my idea of a good time.
- Champaign-Urbana no longer resembles a vast Arctic tundra.
- The Chicago O'Hare airport did not lose my luggage. Granted, this was because I did not have luggage, but considering the potent screwing-up-your-travel-plans black magic of the O'Hare airport, getting out with only a minorly over-aggressive pat-down from security staff is a miracle.