Tag Archives: Happiness

just to get that last thought away

31 Jan

Sometimes I need to vent my unhappy thoughts to you, little Blog. But then when I’m happy and busy doin my thing, I forget to come back to you. I guess what I’m trying to say is: Sorry, Blog. Sorry for loading you down with sadness and forgetting to tell you about the goodness.

I’m three weeks into my second semester of college. (WOOOOOO! COLLEGE!) I hang out with my boyfriend every day, and I also chat with my girlfriends all the time. I’ve only missed two classes so far, and I do most of my homework. I visit my Hospice patient weekly; she’s a joy to talk to. I’ve started training for a halfironman that I hope to do this June with my mom. I write Fairytaleboy every Sunday. I go to paint parties that stain my clothes irreversibly, and stay out till three chilling at Denny’s or Walmart (the only places open 24 hours round here). I’m reading Wolf Hall, and though I love it, it’s going slow.

I look up jobs over and over, only to find out that they won’t fit my schedule. I look up ways to get into med school, and internships abroad, and how does Vultures go again? I look up whether Steven Hawkings is still respected in the scientific community, and which ancient civilization The Emperer’s New Groove is based on. I look up valentines gift ideas for guys and coupons for food. I look up when are you most contagious, before or after symptoms start? I look up how to say “you make me blush” in French, and I look up how much I’ve spent already. I look up my grades, and answers to homework, and what is the full-ride scholarship cutoff GPA? (Missed by 0.01. Rats.)

In short, Blog, I’m happy.


life is good

15 Mar

Oh, how I love Fridays! This morning I rolled out of bed at six, an hour too late for my much-needed shower. Instead of going caveman, I decided to do something I never do: I skipped Friday morning Seminary.

So you can grasp how shocking this is, you must first recall that Seminary is the name for my morning church classes, during which I and the other Mormons from my school gather at a teacher’s home to learn about the Bible. Mondays generally have a decent turnout—it’s much easier to get to class at six when you’ve had a weekend to rest and catch up on sleep. Wednesdays rarely have more than five students, because it’s hump day. The days in between generally have a few people there . . . even if they do have drooping eyelids. On Fridays, everyone comes to class. Friday is breakfast day.

I’m not sure what food I missed, but for once the sleep seemed worth it. After pretending to be Ella Fitzgerald in the shower, I had a realization: not only did I have an extra hour because I skipped seminary, but I also had FIRST PERIOD FREE!


An extra thirty minutes of sleep. Life is good.

I got back a calc quiz. The day I took the quiz, I walked out knowing that I’d failed. I’d had no idea how to do the problems, really, because I hadn’t done the homework in time to ask the teacher questions about the topic. Today, I was joking around with one of my classmates about how I was sure I’d get an all-time low (which for me is saying something). Just as I said that, my teacher plopped down a blissful, blessed number. 80. 80 is a pass. That’s all I can ask for in the second semester of my senior year.


I didn’t fail at math. Life is good.

My English teacher gave us pie in class today because he made us take a practice exam on Pi day yesterday. Then he let us watch parts of the David Tennant version of Hamlet. Love love love.

Oh, um... you might want to wipe that saliva off your chin before you leave.

Oh, um… you might want to wipe that saliva off your chin before you leave.

Pie and magicalness. Life is good.

After school, I did have to go to work. But I got two pay checks. Together, they ALMOST made 200 dollars. What up.


Moolah. Life is good.

My brother came home from Princeton. The whole family was home for once, which was nuts. We were all laughing and mocking each other. My sister Tor was the butt of most of the jokes, because she’s convinced she’s going to die of anaphylactic shock if she doesn’t go to the allergy doctor. The poor thing has been plagued with stomach gas, excema, and various allergies for ages. She also has asthma. If you can name it, she’s probably got it or is gonna get it. My mom made fun of her and called her a hypochondriac. Then my brother made fun of her and said she should go to the allergy doctor, where her back would turn completely red because she’d be allergic to everything. Also, they’d discover that she does indeed have a sensitive nose/eyes/ears, as she’s been claiming all these years.

Years ago, she claimed that she could change her eyesight. That was back when we were fighting the War for Optometry, and she was loosing. She’d have tantrum after tantrum because she can focus her eyes so she can see better. Not unlike a superhero’s supervision. We all mocked her because she had discovered squinting.


But she persisted with the sensitive XYZ idea. Once, my family had driven about six hours to get from Tokyo to Oosaka to go to Universal Studios. (We are a Disney family through and through… Universal has nothing on ol’ Walty’s place.) After a long day of “fun,” we had to drive all the way back. I sat in the front seat with my mom, while my sisters sat in back. At around midnight, I began to feel ill.

It came on too fast to get a bag in time, so… I got sick right in my lap. But we were only about half an hour from home, so we were very lucky there. My mom was busy comforting me, asking me how I felt, when all of a sudden we hear from the back seat,

“CHLOE! How could you? Don’t you know I have a sensitive nose?!” from a cantankerous and half asleep Tor. I was known as Pukerella for a few months. Tor still is teased whenever she cries over something silly, because she has a sensitive heart.

My mom brought me a Chipotle salad for dinner. Life is good.

So, no, I didn’t eat as well as I could have, and I didn’t get a chance to exercize. I still have to get up for work in the morning, and I’ve decided I’m not having a birthday party because I don’t want to bother my parents by having friends over.

But at least today was Friday. What more could I really want?


What little things made you happy today? Go mention them to someone you love. Make them happy for your happiness, and they’ll be happy, too.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, none of these images are mine. And I didn’t cite a single one. Deal with it.