I found this man on 7th Avenue in Park Slope. He was leaning heavily on his cane, looking down, wearing a grimaced face. I felt bad for him, so I smiled and waved when I walked past. His face changed completely. He lit up, smiled wide, and gave me a cheery greeting. There was nothing forced about it. He seemed like a man who went through life looking for the smallest excuses to be happy.
I walked 50 feet down the sidewalk, turned around, and walked back to him. “I want to take your photo,” I told him, “because of how big you smiled when I walked by.”
He said: “Well I saw someone smiling at me who I didn’t even know. So I thought: ‘By God! I Better do something!’”
Begin with that most terrifying of all things, a clean slate. Then look, every day, at the choices you are making, and when you ask yourself why you are making them, find this answer: for me, for me.
Really, though. It is.
1) The amount of excitement that I feel for my friend Guia, when I think that she will finally be across the room, not ocean, from her dearest… is immeasurable. I want to get you guys a beautiful piece of art or vase for your first home together.
2) I don’t pride myself as “perfect” on too many things. However, it turns out not only am I an amazing parallel parker (I’ve defeated the hills of San Francisco!) but I’m also a very efficient hung over person. Two gatorades, 48 oz water downed and some ibuprofen? Check! Showered and currently snuggling with monsieur quincampoix? Check! I do feel like poo though. Irish car bombs, Sophie? Really? Ugh.
Ain’t nothin gonna break my stride.