I missed the opening fashion show, I mean ceremonies at the Olympics, which I hope to watch today, but looky here, a re-cap of all the stylish athletes (and non-stylish athletes–USA).
gratitude-a-thon day 342: fashion is where you find it
Month: February 2014
gratitude-a-thon day 341: warm it up, will ya?
I’m with this kid. I mean, really.
gratitude-a-thon day 340: small bites friday
Let’s hear it for CVS. They quit smoking. Parade.
Only 40 days and 12 hours until spring, cough, cough, sniff, sniff.
Bye bye Jay. I haven’t watched him in a long time, but still, it’s kinda sad.
Hey google. Nice one. Take that Sochi.
Ok Jake, this is us when you get married, so get in shape.
Now this would be a fun job.
Completely and totally cool. Way to use a button.
I always feel better when I give to someone else, so this doesn’t surprise me. It would look like the end of winter in this Brookline house.
House of Cards second season in just 7 days. Valentine’s Day with Kevin Spacey? Maybe.
What happiness looks like around the world.
gratitude-a-thon day 339: a letter to the editor
Dear old man winter, you fat, ugly bastard, who thinks he can blow off steam (or rather snow) whenever you want, wherever you want (see multiple car accident in Atlanta a few weeks ago),
I am tired of you and your blustery manner, your self-centeredness and general cold personality. Why can’t you just warm up a little? What have you got against we New Englanders this winter? Have you geographically lost your way? Dude, you’re in Cleveland Circle, not the Arctic Circle.
I get that you are just doing your job, just chilling out. But I think you’ve taken it too far. There’s 10 inches out there. And it’s a toasty 21 degrees. Can I tell you how tired I am of my sleeping bag coat? The only benefit it has is that when I shed it in the Spring, people think I’ve been on The Biggest Loser, and I get all sorts of enviable stares and compliments about how much weight I’ve lost.
Look, I’m willing to give in a little, but you gotta give some too. Whaddya say, you keep throwing the cool temperatures at us, but you stop with the snow? In fact, if you need to keep doing the snow thing, why don’t you head over to Sochi. They’re having a bunch of winter activities that require that white stuff.
Warmly, (actually coldly, in fact, FREEZINGLY)
We here at the gratitude-a-thon (meaning, ME here at the gratitude-a-thon)
gratitude-a-thon day 338: friends: the old ones and the young ones
As the birthdays stack up, I think it’s really important to have friends who are both older and younger than you are. The younger ones give off a sort of electric energy and give you a voyeuristic read on what’s going on out there. The older ones can offer you perspective. They can tell you what’s worth spending time on, and some of the things that just plain suck. And sometimes it’s just nice to know that someone has passed through your specific uncertain, or challenging terrain and lived to tell.
I have both, and I’ve been both. Yesterday it was a much younger friend who opened my eyes. We give something interesting to each other. Something that’s as valuable as good hair highlights and gluten free bread that actually tastes good. Grateful.
gratitude-a-thon day 338: An actor, a person
The first time I saw him was in the movie Next Stop Wonderland, an indie, back in 1998. He was overweight and shlumpy. But he stood out. He left me wondering about him, wanting to see more of him. And I did, in Boogie Nights as an isecure wannabe, as a music critic in Almost Famous, as a stunning Capote, chemistry professor in Savages, as a priest in Doubt, as a coach in Moneyball, as a guru in The Masters. And yesterday, he played his last role. And selfishly, I felt a little stab of pain when I read that Phillip Seymour Hoffman was found dead of an overdose in his New York apartment, angry at the future art I’d never see him make, and madder still the way drugs can grab hold of some people like a barnacle grabs a rock, like red wine inhabits a white shirt, like a race car driver holds onto a steering wheel for his very life.
They say he had 21 years clean and then. And then. With so much to live for artistically, and three young kids, what is it that could make a person play Russian Roulette with drugs? A hard wiring that can’t be denied? What? I wonder what.
My dad was an alcoholic. And I never understood him either.
Grateful for the extraordinary performances that Phillip Seymour Hoffman left behind. I’m sad for all he won’t ever see or do or be.
gratitude-a-thon day 337: baby loves rain
I don’t love rain. You get all, well, wet. But this baby, this baby loves rain. And it made me just smile for like a minute straight. Adorably uplifting!
gratitude-a-thon day 336: a sign
I would be really happy to see this walking through Brookline Village, but I’m pretty happy seeing it on my computer. Here’s to Laura Lavigne and The Happiness Sprinkling Project.
*the gratitude-a-thon 