I'm not Oprah, yet feel this unexplainable sense of worthiness to draft a list of my favorite things. I bring to you, my friends, in no particular order:
Trader Joe's Bruchetta, a single person's manna.
Alcoves. Yes those cozy, nook-like spaces made just big enough for me with a blanket, a book and a few pillows. Lost is where I long to be.
The eggnog latte. Though the caloric equivalent of putting ice cream in coffee, it is no less fantastic.
A good hip hop beat, loud at the stoplight.
After fighting to keep it from turning my jeans soggy, rain at night. The northwest dashing and dripping me to sleep.
Honey--the most beautiful labor of love. The worker bee toils her entire life to produce 1/12 of a teaspoon this sweetness. The Secret Life of Bees is my secret fantasy.
