Reading people's blogs, including Garret Hill's, which, to paraphrase Homer Simpson, is funny because the source of its humor lies in the mundane and specific truths in life. I love how Garret records his every visit to Trader Joe's, uses the word temple as a verb, and takes a picture of every single thing he eats (sadly, he doesn't post these on his blog.)
Listening to podcasts from The Moth.
Talking to my older brother. He is one of the funniest people I know, and a computer whiz, to boot. Last night when I had a computer question, I called him and he was able to walk me through it step by step and explain each thing the computer was doing without even needing to be here to see what was on my screen. That amazes me. And I was laughing the whole time.
Observing the city. Last night when I left work, the sun was setting, although I couldn't see it because of all the skyscrapers. The sky was full of fluffy clouds which obscured a pink and gray sky. The last bit of sunlight was hitting the buildings just enough to electrify one thin edge of them, so it looked like every building in midtown was half-outlined in neon. It was breathtaking and so fleeting a moment of extreme beauty.
Walking around my neighborhood, which has businesses like this:
I don't know whether to be hungry or horrified. But I'm happy.
1 comment:
If you ever notice that chinese place going out of business, can you please buy that big neon sign they have in the window for me? Yeah, I can rag on Alisa's favorite chair ever and then think that neon is cool. I'm strange that way.
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