Ode to things that bring me joy...

I've been having a sucky time of it, and this poor little blog has suffered. Such endless whinging and sulking and hoping and... well, ultimately being crushed. But no longer, my friends.

I'm on the sunny side of the street, as The Pogues used to sing. Well, not really. But for today, I'm doing a humble and short homage to the things that bring me joy...


1) My humidifier.
Sure, going to warm and humid locations gives me glorious hair and skin. But when you are broke and pathetic, a humidifier (a hot water one, thank you) brings you the same glories. Well, skin-wise, anyway.

2) Chocolate.
Specifically, dark chocolate. For bonus points, it should be in good quality truffle form with a touch of cinnamon. Mmmm. Chocolate me likey.

3) Peller Estate Ice Cuvee champagne.
Oh yes. This fine little bevvie has a hint of ice wine in it, making it too-too delicious and irrestible even after New Year's has long since rung out...

4) Dark red.
The colour. It brings me joy. If it ever brings me heaps of money, I shall declare my undying love for it. We will marry. And we will have pink babies -- since I am alarmingly pasty.

5) Hope for spring and summer.
Yes, it is truly the suck outside. But February can only last so long.

6) A stack of brand-new, unread books.
They sit there and smile from the shelf. They beckon ever so slightly, humming strange little tunes that promise adventure, entertainment and humour. (It's tardy of me, but I'm currently infatuated with Gabriel Garcia Marquez and E.M. Forster.)

7) The knowledge that the world awaits.
A visit to China may or may not happen... but I'm strangely comforted by the knowledge that it will still be waiting for me if the plans head south -- in the bad way. South America and Africa have started calling for me as well. A dangerous sign...

8) Slipper socks.
They keep your feet warm. And better yet, they don't try and kill me on the stairs like my fuzzy ones. Non-homicidal feet-warmers are nice indeed.

9) The sun.
I saw it today. It still exists. Soon it will bring me warmth and I can't help but approve of that.

10) My chums.
An odder assortment of people you're not likely to meet. But I'll keep them. They will be granted shout-outs and extra love if they give money. Hint. Hint. And if you are a philanthropist looking to sponsor a needy writer, a sum of money will garner you honourary friendship. It's not quite on the same par, but satisfying nonetheless...

11) Me.
Self-loathing and all. I think because I like being alive. It's not exactly on my terms right now, but I'll take it -- and hope for improvement.