#14 - Family reunions.

I'm currently sitting in front of the TV watching the rescue of the Chilean miners, and I'm on the verge of tears. Watching these men come back to the surface to be reunited with their families is so inspiring. The first man who came up was greeted by his wife and son. The son burst into tears the second he saw his father. It was absolutely the sweetest thing I've ever seen. Watching family reunions such as these always tugs at my heartstrings. The video compilation of returning soldiers that's been circulating lately has a similar effect. There's nothing in the world more important than family, and things like this prove it. Totally inspiring.

#13 - Baking!

I am, by nature, an anxious person. Most of the time, that anxiety is manifested in stress over schoolwork, or, more recently, in applying to grad school. Over the years, I've learned how to turn my anxiety into energy, forcing my self to work instead of panicking. That hasn't been working too well lately. The other day, I was on the phone with my father, asking his advice about my Teach for America interview, and something he said sent me into a full blown panic attack. If you've never had one of these delightful experiences, consider yourself lucky. Sitting in the kitchen, talking to my father, I was convinced I was going to die. My throat constricted, my heart started beating unusually fast, and I felt like someone was stacking bricks on my spinal cord. Not fun.

My panic attacks are short-lived (usually less than a minute long), but they happen with alarming frequency. I've tried just about every possible method for making my crazy go away, but so far, only one thing has worked (at least, in a preventative sense): baking. My father is an amazing cook, and my grandmother and sister are both really great bakers, but among my family members, I am notoriously lacking in the kitchen.

Up until this year, that is. Baking has become a major hobby of mine lately, mostly because when I bake, I don't think about anything else. I find a strange comfort in the clinical directives of recipes, in the knowledge that a few simple ingredients can make really delicious food. I've taken to baking when I'm emotionally overwhelmed, and that emotion is sometimes translated into really delicious mistakes. A few weeks ago I made Carmel Apple cupcakes following a grad school-induced panic attack, and, hands shaking, poured way too much nutmeg into the mix. I didn't want to start over, so I went online to try to figure out what would temper the taste of nutmeg. The answer? Mace, of all things. So I put mace in the cupcakes and hoped that they wouldn't taste awful. And you know what? They didn't. They were delicious.

This morning I made Sour Cream Blueberry Muffins. I wasn't exactly stressed at the time, but I anticipated that I would be later today. The recipe was adapted from the Sour Cream Raspberry Cupcakes on my favorite cupcake website. I used almond extract instead of vanilla, and used a little less sugar and a little more flour to make them more muffin-y. They were delicious. Maybe even better than my Dad's. And that's definitely Something To Be Happy About.

#12 - When things go better than you'd expected

I'm retaking the GRE on Friday, and I've got a ton of work to do, so this is going to be a short post. In fact, I was planning on continuing my illustrious tradition of forgetting to post, but today has been the best day. Last night, I told my dad a secret I'd been keeping for a month or so. I'd expected him to be angry, or disappointed. I'd expected him to yell. But he didn't - he was calm, and understanding, and everything a dad should be. I woke up this morning feeling as though a huge weight had been taken off my shoulders. I also came to the realization that I am incredibly blessed. I have an amazing family, and I am loved. If that's not Something To Be Happy About, then I don't know what is.

#11 - Google Books!

I'm currently working on a research for a paper I'm presenting at the Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies undergraduate conference in Tempe, AZ at the end of this month. You can check out the conference, and the Center here. The paper is essentially a translation and interpretation of an Old English poem called "Wulf and Eadwacer". It's an infamously difficult poem, and I have absolutely no idea why I find it so intriguing. For decades, people much smarter than I am have been trying to understand what, exactly, the poem is about; I'm not entirely sure why I think I'll be able to figure it out, but I'm trying.

In any case, my research on the poem has been difficult. The text I'd really love to get my hands on is a 10th century anthology of Old English poetry called the Exeter Book. It is housed at Exeter College, Oxford, and for obvious reasons is entirely out of my reach. However, there is another book, called Codex Exoniensis, which I believed would be slightly more accessible, and just as useful. Codex Exoniensis was written in 1842 by a man named Benjamin Thorpe, and is the first printed copy of the Exeter Book. It contains translations of each poem with notes on syntax and interpretation. It is, essentially, the earliest printed record of Anglo-Saxon scholarship. I'd very much like to read it.

Unfortunately, the U of A is not a hotspot for Anglo-Saxon research, and my library doesn't have a copy of the Codex. Fortunately, there's always Google Books. On this wonderful website, I found a scanned copy of every single page of the original printing, complete with citations and notes. It's the closest I'll get to the real thing (at least for a while), and it's been the most useful text I've found so far.

I'm sick, and I'm exhausted, and until I found this Thing To Be Happy About, I was feeling pretty down about my lowly position on the research totem pole. Things are looking up, thanks to Google Books.

#10 - Getting out of class early.

Are there any words more beautiful on a Tuesday afternoon (or any afternoon, for that matter) than "class is going to end early today"? And is there any day more beautiful than a day in which those words are uttered not once, not twice, but THREE times in three separate classes? Of course not. Even in classes that I love (and yes, I do love some of my classes) the chance to leave early is welcome. It makes the day instantly better.

That said, short classes do not necessarily equal less homework. So adios!

#9 - NAPS.

I remember hating naps growing up. My parents told me to nap ALL THE TIME, and I never did. Growing up, I'd usually go to my room and pretend to nap, while really reading or playing with Barbies. I was a really cool kid back in the day.

These days, there's not much more I love than taking a nap. I nap more often than just about anyone I know, except for maybe my roommate. My bed is, I believe, specially designed for nap-taking. It's big, and soft, but not too soft, except right when you lay down, when it just collapses under you and takes you in it's arms and begs you to go to sleep. And when you wake up from a nap, you get a hint of what my friends and I call "nap-sweat" - the thin sheen of sweat on your neck and forehead that reminds you of falling asleep in the car as a kid. Or is that just us?

All of this talk about naps is making me sleepy. Guess what time it is?

Naptime.

#8 - Rereading the classics

There's a joke in the English department about Mary Shelley's most famous novel: How many professors does it take to teach you Frankenstein? The answer: All of them, apparently. Since I began college three years ago, I've been assigned the novel no less than four times; at one point, I was reading it for two classes at the same time. So when the professor of my Fantasy Literature class assigned it yet again, I assumed that I could skip the reading, and use that time to catch up on all my other homework. When I got to class this morning, I quickly flipped through the pages were supposed to have read, hoping to jog my memory before the discussion began. But skimming proved easier said than done, not because I had forgotten the details of the novel, but because I'd forgotten how damn good it is.

That's the great thing about great books. Each time you read a great novel, you pick up on things you didn't catch on your first reading. For example, while I was flipping through Frankenstein this morning, I caught myself laughing out loud at the absolute egotism Walton shows in the first few pages. I had never recognized the humor in that opening section; it adds a touch of irony when contrasted with Victor Frankenstein's own God complex.

Anyways, I got to thinking about all the other books I need to reread - Blood Meridian and The Scarlet Letter, of all things, came to mind. Then I remembered that I have no time to read on my own. But it was a nice thought, while it lasted.