(my brain as depicted by post-its)
I like getting in a hot car or shower when I'm incredibly chilled. I like how my skin prickles and thaws. I appreciate it almost as much as the dull hum of sunburn on my skin as I enter a cool pool.
I like quotes. Profound quotes. Silly quotes. Poignant quotes. I like words, generally. I suppose it is the pith of a great aphorism that I dig. That big ideas can be held together by a few well strung words, like bright and perfect beads placed in just the right order.
I like when silly things distract my classes and the typically lethargic perk up. This morning a giant (we're talking quarter-sized) bee flew in through the window. Our mutual fear put us on common ground. There was squealing and funny faces and a little bit of immaturity. But the uncontrollable parts of life remind me not to take myself so seriously. It's just Romeo & Juliet.
I like tracking packages coming my way almost as much as I like when I return home from work and see the box waiting on my doorstep. Thank you, FedEx guys, for creating this delightful online feature. I like knowing my Old Navy goods left Phoenix yesterday.
I like those stupid LOLZ kittehs. And not even in an ironic way. I frequently do, in fact, laugh out loud. I don't care if this tidbit about myself reveals my utter, lame, and absolute unhip-ness. I embrace these things in myself. And kittehs are cute.
I believe in large quantities of Diet Coke. I like that first sip. I like the fizzle sound. Diet Coke is a visceral experience, friends. I'm addicted and don't really care what you say.
I like writing on the white board. That deep, pressing desire you had as a kid to write a message on your teacher's board: just as satisfying as you imagined. I get to do it ALL the time. (Teacher perks must be recognized anywhere). However, I will hit you with a ruler if you write on mine. (Figuratively, of course. The most "damaging" thing I've done to my students is launch a dry erase marker at their unsuspecting--usually sleeping--self. No beating with rulers here. Ever.)
I like electronic compressed gas dusters and am equal parts disgusted and thrilled at what these brilliant inventions remove from my keyboard. It kind of works the same way as removing bathtub drain hairballs. The thrill comes mostly at admiring how clean it made things, or how well the drain now does its intended job.
I like teenagers so much more than most adults. Teenagers keep it real. This occurred to me yet again as I listened to upper management blow smoke during an "Employee Forum" at job #2. At least teenagers openly demonstrate to you that your existence doesn't really matter to them. Besides, it feels really good to know that, during said open demonstration of disdain, I am making money for being here while the little darlings are not.
