it's the little things that get me:

1) arriving in irvine without getting a speeding ticket.

2) tasting mom's freshly conujured engrish toffee.

3) feeling my hair get 3 to 7% poofier for the sudden spike in humidity level.

4) watching the household name MICHAEL FELPS get another crop of gold with my own sleepy little eyeballs.  my olympic curse has been lifted!

5) talking in the hallway with lindsey for approximately 45 minutes when we should have been going to sleep.  i think tired conversation is the best and the worst because everything's funny but then you don't have your wits about you to say, "hey.  going sleep.  night."  you just keep chatting about the non-mysteries of the universe....

6) dumping all my stuff in my room, wanting to vomit over witnessing how much crap i have accumulated, then making a path to my bed and putting all the crap that had previously been deposited on my bed into niece's port-a-crib that's still set up in my room from the end of may when they were here for cam's farewell, sifting through post-haste to find my "interviewee ensemble" for tomorrow.  ah, a bed is made available once again, a responsible looking outfit saved from the wrinkle monster.

ok i'm going to bed.  incoherency imminent.  

p.s. my friend and now-former co-worker made me a "moody and contemplative road trip cd" and it has an acoustic BBC radio version of clocks by coldplay that will change your universe.  ken, you're the bomb to the diggety.