Celebrate Your Youth

Every now and then I like to list the things that remind me how excited I am to be alive.

I love sitting on my roof with good friends. I love potlucks. I love Nina and our conversations that intensify over a bottle of wine.

I love fall, crisp air, crunchy leaves. I love Haley's Urban discount. I love Haley.

I love Cilantro salad dressing and hot showers.

I love memories of summer with Shannon in NC.

I love being able to walk everywhere in my neighborhood. I love that I can take my dog into the video store across the street. I love that Jackie planned ahead for my birthday - and that I get to finally see Zap Mama in concert.

I love that Alex is almost done with the army. I love that Bush is almost out of office.

I love that I go to a church where I can wrap my hair and wear jeans to - and I'm not the only one.

I love that my sister is living in Costa Rica next semester. I love that I get to visit her.
I love that my brother is 16 and way beyond his age. And way beyond people my age.
I love that my mom is crazy and because of that, so am I.
I love that my dad is practical, and that I got a little of that, too.

I love my life.

My New Life and My First Friend

I've been living in Trolley Square for about two weeks now, and have been willing and ready to start my life here. First step: find some friends.

Today, while waiting at the pharmacy, (which is a lovely two block walk from my new apartment) I made my first friend in Trolley Square. He’s cute, he’s funny, and he’s Asian. All the things I love in a man. He caught my attention in a way that no one ever has, and I couldn’t help but staring at him from across the room.

He was holding a mouse.

I think I should clarify my earlier statement. He is Asian, Vietnamese to be precise. He is cute, in that nine-year-old way. And he’s definitely funny, he walks all over Trolley square holding a mouse – and he thinks it’s a hamster.

Kevin and I struck up a conversation about his hamster/mouse, and we became instant friends. He saw my ID card attached to my shirt and said, “Oh, so you’re a doctor?” (He already sees how amazingly intelligent I am and probably recognizes that I’m only in marketing because I’m trying to follow my true passion – writing.) I correct him and tell him I’m a writer, to which he asks, “Is that why you have a pen in your wallet?”

“Yes,” I tell him, surprised at how observant he is, and proudly pull out three others from my purse. I have now proven my abilities as a writer – what half decent writer doesn’t carry an unnecessary amount of pens with her at all times?

As we talk, I start to realize that everyone at the pharmacy knows Kevin. This is apparently where he and Brownie, the hamster/mouse, hang out. I ask him what he does with Brownie when he wants to eat. He tell me he puts her in his pocket. Then he rethinks his answer – “I don’t do that with these pants though.”

He proceeds, wordlessly, to stick his hand, still holding Brownie, in the pocket of his sweatpants. Then he bends over until Brownie’s head pops out under the elastic band at his ankle. This is a much more satisfactory way of finding out someone has a hole in his pocket.

I get my prescription and tell Kevin how much I enjoyed our little chat. He said that he’ll probably see me again and that I’ll get to pet Brownie again too.

Thanks, Kevin. I’m glad you’re my first new friend in Wilmington.