Pretty Halcyon Days

How pleasant to sit on the beach,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun,
With ocean galore within reach,
And nothing at all to be done!
No letters to answer,
No bills to be burned,
No work to be shirked,
No cash to be earned.
It is pleasant to sit on the beach
With nothing at all to be done.

How pleasant to look at the ocean,
Democratic and damp; indiscriminate;
It fills me with noble emotion
To think I am able to swim in it.
To lave in the wave,
Majestic and chilly,
Tomorrow I crave;
But today it is silly.
It is pleasant to look at the ocean;
Tomorrow, perhaps, I shall swim in it.

How pleasant to gaze at the sailors,
As their sailboats they manfully sail
With the vigor of vikings and whalers
In the days of the viking and whale.
They sport on the brink
Of the shad at the shark;
If it's windy they sink;
If it isn't, they park.
It is pleasant to gaze at the sailors,
To gaze without having to sail.

How pleasant the salt anaesthetic
Of the air and the sand and the sun;
Leave the earth to the strong and athletic,
And the sea to adventure upon.
But the sun and the sand
No contractor can copy;
We lie in the land
Of the lotus and poppy;
We vegetate, calm and aesthetic,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun.

- Ogden Nash

Tomorrow I'm heading off to Hawaii for a little vacation with my lover, my dude, my main squeeze, my guy who makes the food and walks the dog. We are long overdue for this sort of thing - by which I mean, we have never before done this sort of thing. We travel hard and often, but we do not beach vacation. It's uncharted marital territory, this idea of "laying about," this concept of "relaxing." Who on earth will we be, in this crazy alternate reality?

For myself, I have extremely specific plans to drink all of the rum and to eat all of the things. I also will take lots of beachside morning runs and sit in reverent silence in as many patches of hot sun as I can find. I may throw myself gracelessly into a wave or two, but mostly I just want to wrap myself in beauty and color. I intend to leap face first into the first bush of tropical flowers I can find. This will probably be painful. Also, do bushes have flowers? I bet they do in Hawaii. I want to absorb tropical flowers into my tired soul. I want to sleep forever, but not in a death way. In a delicious comfy pajama-ed windows open to the night air kind of way.

Mostly, I just want the rum. And speaking of delicious things, this poem is fracking delicious. It begs to be read aloud. Do it, now, wherever you are. Who cares if you look ridiculous? Read this poem, now, with flair and dramatic import, and get thee to a rum-based beverage immediately afterwards. Your day will immediately improve. I promise.

On Idolatry

"What if I forgave myself? I thought. What if I forgave myself even though I'd done something I shouldn't have? What if I was a liar and a cheat and there was no excuse for what I'd done other than that because it was what I wanted and needed to do? What if I was sorry, but if I could go back in time I wouldn't do anything differently than I had done? What if I'd actually wanted to fuck every one of those men? What if heroin taught me something? What if yes was the right answer instead of no? What if what made me do all those things everyone thought I shouldn't have done was what also had got me here? What if I was never redeemed? What if I already was?"

- Cheryl Strayed, Wild

Idolatry is perhaps an unwise thing. No one, really, is good enough or perfect enough to earn someone's undiluted and intense worship. Everyone is a little bit broken.

But, if a person were worth it, that person is absolutely, entirely Cheryl Strayed. I could talk forever about the magic that she makes with words, but I won't today. Mostly because I have somewhere to be right now. But, it's coming. It'll probably be sickeningly gushy, too. You've been warned.

Cheering Fans/Too Much Coffee

Hear ye, hear ye!

For those looking for the answer to life (the universe, and everything?) I have found it. Are you ready? Are you prepared to know, finally, the unknowable? Read on, dear ones.

The answer to life is - wait for it - working out in the morning.

I know, I know, getting up early is generally a shitty answer for anything. But I am telling you, this has been the missing link of my entire shabby life. Try it. Consider the following:

Scenario #1: Stay up way too late reading 17 blogs of people you've (mostly) never met until your eyes start to tear from the computer glare. Definitely be unable to fall asleep, and be angry about it, for a very long time. When your alarm goes off at 7:00 a.m., hit snooze every five minutes for one entire hour. Get up with the momentum and grace of a 75 year old arthritic grandpa. Stare at your weird hair in the mirror despondently for awhile while pumping yourself with caffeine. Snap out of your reverie when the dog barks. Commence racing around in wild panic to leave the apartment on time. Absolutely fail at this. Definitely do not leave yourself enough time to pack a lunch, put on makeup, or dry your hair. Arrive at work late and entirely disheveled. Feel like death, loathe yourself, hate the earth. Definitely don't become remotely productive until at least 10:00 a.m.

Scenario #2: Go to bed early, like a real person. Set your alarm for 6:30 a.m. Actually obey that goddamn thing and haul your ass up. Drink coffee while staring out window at rising sun, already feeling mildly triumphant and zen-like. Leave by 7:00. Arrive at gym by 7:30. Work out like a killer warrior girl for one entire hour. Imagine stands full of jubilant fans screaming themselves hoarse at your victory over your sloth-like self. Do extra crunches, saluting them in your mind. Get ready for work in the gym's dreamy, spa-like locker room, pretending you're in a fancy hotel as you help yourself to an extra towel. Revel in avoiding your own dirty apartment bathroom, where you ran out of toilet paper days ago and the stack of napkins you use as replacements are running low. Remind yourself to buy more toilet paper later. In your wild confidience, faintly believe you'll actually remember this later. Get to work on time, looking presentable. With actual makeup on your actual face. Begin takeover of planet earth.

Happy Friday.