Sunday Stealing

Sunday Stealing: The Alice Through the Looking Glass Meme

If your life was a book, what would be its title? The Thing of It Is. It's a phrase I say quite often.

Who is/was the weirdest person in your life? I've given this some thought -- because many people in my life (including me) can be weird -- but I think the title has to go to the friend of a friend. She was only in my life peripherally, but I found her completely fascinating. She was angry all the time ... at her children, her students, her husband, Gov. John Kasich and President Obama. It seems the only one she wasn't eternally mad at was Barry Manilow. 

She was an obsessive Fanilow, and the Manilow fan forums were the center of her world. Woe be to anyone who didn't worship the way she did -- she'd "rant" away at  them from her keyboard. At one point, she truly believed she had been befriended by the woman who was secretly married to Barry and the mother of his children. (Yes, plural.) She reveled in her "insider" status to the tune of $5,000 that she "lent" Mrs. Manilow. (Yes, "Mrs. Manilow" was a con artist she'd met online and never seen IRL.) She and my friend drifted apart, which makes me kinda sad. I would have enjoyed hearing how she reacted to Barry Manilow finally coming out of the closet and marrying a man. If it sounds like schadenfreude has gotten the best of me, let me reiterate: she was a bully. Genuinely mean to anyone who disagreed with her (I suspect this is because her marriage and career weren't going so well, but that's a reason and not an excuse). She was so proud of annihilating people with her "rants."

What is a special thing that someone once did for you? My friend John not only got me tickets to the Cubs Convention, he attended it with me. John's a casual fan, not a passionate follower like me, so I was touched that he did this for me.

If you could erase someone off the planet, who would it be? I wouldn't.

What’s a big goal that you have? I would like to feel better. I've had a rough year, healthwise.

If you could time travel and meet yourself at 16, what would you tell yourself? That high school is an awful time of life, and once I get out and am on my own, I will be happier. Just hang in there, Gal.

If it were the last day of your life, how would you spend it? I hope to not know when -- as Sinatra sang -- "the end is near." I'd like to just die suddenly, the way my grandma did. She was lying on her bed, reading a Louis L'amour book from the library, when she had a heart attack and died. Her glasses were still on her nose and the book on her chest. 
 

If you could meet any celebrity, who would it be and why? Joe Maddon, the Cubs fantastic manager. I adore him, and have so many questions.

What is one thing that you would never do that others you know have done? Get a tattoo.

What is one romance depicted in film that you’d love to experience? Maria and Capt. Von Trapp in The Sound of Music. They saw the best in one another. And they gave up everything to flee the Nazis, which is everlastingly cool.

Describe yourself in just one sentence. Like no one else.

Who is the most beautiful person on earth? While I haven't seen everyone on earth, I am tempted to say that Elizabeth Taylor in her prime was beyond beautiful.

What was the best experience in your life? I remember being awoken one morning because the man I was with was holding me so tight. That one moment stands out in our relationship, and in my life.

If you could rule the world, what would you change? I'd wash everyone's bias away.

Where were you when you heard the news of 9/11? I was tying my shoes. Then I was going to turn off the TV and run out to catch the 8:20 train. That's when I saw the second plane hit. In honor of 9/11 and all the heroes we met as a result, I'm closing with Bretagne. This beautiful girl was the last surviving search/rescue dog, and she died earlier this year at age 16.

Good, good girl!

 

I'm fine, but ...

I've got the windows open! It's been so hot and humid lately that I've had the AC running almost nonstop. It's a delight to listen to the gentle whir of the fan instead.

John Lackey is healthy! I was worried about his rehab but he had a quality start today against the Astros -- and even though we didn't quite win, we still have the best record in all of baseball.

Breakfast was great! Cheese omelette, with hashbrowns and oj as I read about Sir Paul.

I save $11.52! I used coupons to great advantage at CVS and am feeling proud of myself.

Peace and quiet abound! I enjoy Saturdays when I have nothing planned. At work, I sit in an exposed space, surrounded by my team members. Having time to myself, with no due dates snapping at my ass like turtles, is bliss.

So why aren't I happy? Because I've been so fucking tired all day, that's why.

After I got back from CVS, I was so tired I curled up on the sofa and slept ... and slept ... and slept. For two hours. When I woke up, I felt like my Saturday was all gone.

I'm taking matters into my own hands. A week from Monday -- the 19th -- I'm returning to the doctor's office to have bloodwork done. She wanted to do it sometime before year end to confirm that I don't have any lasting aftereffects of c. diff. We're doing it in September instead of October because I want her to know about this fatigue ... and thinning hair ... and the new and ongoing trouble with my eyesight.

I'm tempted to think I have diabetes, because people in my life have it. But from conferring extensively with Dr. Google -- and with input from people in both my real and cyber lives -- I realize it's just as likely to be thyroid.

But here's the thing: I don't want to sleep any more Saturdays away. So it's time to take control of my own health.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Mr. Boombastic (1995)

1) This song is a rather shameless come-on by an accomplished ladies' man. Do you enjoy flirting? On occasion. He has to start it, though. When it comes to this, I'm rather shy.

2) Shaggy sings that he's like a turtle coming out of his shell. Do you think turtles, snakes and lizards make good pets? Or would you prefer a companion animal that has fur or feathers? My nephew has had a tortoise, Georgina, for a decade and he's quite devoted to her. And as a girl I had a turtle, Bobbie, that I remember fondly. But for the most part, I'm a dog/cat kinda gal.

3) He also sings that if you don't feel like driving, you should hand him the keys. Are you comfortable letting others drive your car? I don't have a car.

4) He tries to woo the girl with the promise of a bubble bath. Do you enjoy relaxing in the tub? Or do you view baths and showers as simply part of your hygiene routine, like brushing your teeth?  I enjoy them, and find the world always looks better after one.

5) Born Orville Burrell, Shaggy took his stage name from his shaggy hair. Using your hair as inspiration, what would your stage name be? Cowlickster.

6) Sam admits she hadn't thought about this 20+ year old song in years, until she heard it on a Chase Bank commercial. According to the Federal Reserve Bank, checkwriting dropped more than 50% between 2000 and 2010. Who received the last check you wrote? I paid my electric bill. I don't pay online because I can't recall either my user name or password, and I don't keep my bill so I can't key in my account number. It's just easier to write a check.

7)  Which would you prefer to receive in a birthday card: a $25 check or a $20 Target gift card? A $25 check because it's $5 more! I know people who find going to the bank such a hassle and they'd take the gift card. I'm not one of those people. I'm lazy (see above), but not that lazy!

8) Sam's mother refuses to pay bills online. All the news stories about data breaches scare her. Have you ever been hacked? If so, did it take long to get the situation resolved? I've had a Citi and a Chase credit account hacked. Both banks alerted me to the problem and fixed it fast.

9) In 1995, when this song was popular, Michael Jordan "unretired" and returned to the Chicago Bulls. Tell us about a decision you made that you wish you could undo. I sometimes wonder about the path not taken, but I don't know if that constitutes "regret." I try not to second guess myself that way.

I saw him!

Thursday gave me my first Walking Dude sighting in months! I was so happy to see him!

The Walking Dude is a unique Chicago character. He's tall, thin and his long hair and mustache are always lustrous and shiny. And he walks. All day. All night. He wanders the city. Occasionally selling wristwatches to the drivers waiting at cabstands. But mostly he watches the river or monitors construction and then starts walking again.

In May, something terrible happened. A thug took a baseball bat and beat Walking Dude senseless. It was a stupid, pointless act of cruelty. Walking Dude has nothing worth stealing, except his quiet dignity, and he's never done anyone any harm.

He was in the hospital for weeks as doctors worked to restore his eyesight and mobility. More than 1,000 Chicagoans pitched in nearly $40,000 for his care.

He has rejected any attention or publicity. He refused to press charges against the man who beat him because he feared appearing in court. Despite all the media coverage his plight received, he's refused to appear on camera, joking that he doesn't want to be "a Kardashian," or a person who is famous for nothing.

So today when I saw him on the street, I resisted the impulse to reach out and shake his hand. He wants to be left alone, and I respect that. But I was thrilled to see him, all the same.

Walk on, Dude.

Oh, Bobby!

I stopped at Petco after work this evening. I had a coupon for $5 that expired today and I can't afford to throw $5 in the trash, so I hauled my fat ass over there this hot night and invested in a pair of new scratching posts.

Connie prefers a specific type of post -- it's sturdy and wrapped in rope. I couldn't find one in the row where most of the cat goodies are displayed and asked one of the employees for help. She directed me to the clearance bin at the front of the store. I never check that bin because it's off the doggie aisle and I assumed it was all canine items.

Beside the clearance bin was a series of cream colored carriers -- 9 in all -- filled with cats from the local shelter. Their ages and stories made me so sad. All were over 5, and given up for adoption because of allergies or because the owners moved to a "no pets" building. Imagine how confused and depressed these poor cats must be, having lived their lives in a household and now suddenly in a cage at the front of Petco. What had they done wrong? Where are their people? Breaks my heart.

Especially Bobby. I don't know why he particularly got under my skin, but he did. This good-sized cat looked so vulnerable and exposed, sleeping under the fluorescent lights in the petstore. His furry little plight touched me.

I admit I was tempted to adopt him. My feline roommates would adjust easily to a new addition. Reynaldo got along well with both Joey and Charlotte, no problem. Connie grew up in a hoarder situation so being surrounded by other cats is fine with her. I could get Bobby out of that cage and into a home where he could play and be cuddled.  I could do that.

EXCEPT for FIP. The shelter that sends these cats to Petco doesn't screen for this virus -- most shelters in Chicagoland don't. But after Joey died, I paid to have the extensive bloodwork done to screen Rey and Connie and learned Connie has the infection and shared it with Rey. Neither cat has symptoms. Right now both are healthy. But they have it, and a third cat entering the house would likely get it.

Of course, it's possible Bobby already has FIP. As I say, shelters can't afford to screen for it. But it's just as likely he doesn't, and I think it would be irresponsible for me to adopt.

Besides, I can't save them all. That's really what this comes down to, isn't it? I hate the thought of any animal being unloved. But I can only do what I can do. Right now, keeping Rey and Connie healthy is my priority.

Oh. My. God.

So I'm monitoring breakfast in Feline Manor* and I hear this on live TV:

 Moments before, same interview, he admitted he's taking votes away from Hillary Clinton.

Yes, Bernie-or-Busters, it is now long past time for you to admit the obvious. This is a two-party system, not a three-party system, and you have a binary choice. Why not honor Sen. Sanders AND GROW UP?

*Connie cannot eat Reynaldo's prescription cat food, so that's all she wants.

WWW.WEDNESDAY

To participate, and to see how others responded, click here. 

1. What are you currently reading? Paul McCartney: The Life by Philip Norman. This is a book I never thought I'd see, much less read. For Mr. Norman has always been a Lennon fan, who has taken swipes at Sir Paul in an effort to elevate John. The author acknowledges this in the beginning, and I appreciate his honesty. Also, this book was written with Paul's "tacit approval," which means people who haven't always spoken up were interviewed for this book.

I've barely cracked it, and it's over 800 pages long, but I've already learned a few things I didn't know before. So far it seems very fair. This makes me glad. John's been gone nearly as long as he was alive. Perhaps it's time to view the Lennon-McCartney partnership without partisanship.

2. What did you recently finish reading? Book, Line and Sinker by Jenn McKinlay.  Imagine if Jessica Fletcher from Murder, She Wrote wasn't a sedate, widowed author from Cabot Cove. Let's make her a librarian named Lindsey, newly relocated to bucolic Briar Creek, CT. She doesn't have a dead husband but she is fleeing an unfaithful ex. In addition to colorful local characters -- including well-meaning but not exactly cutting-edge small-town law enforcement -- she solves mysteries with the help of a hot boyfriend and a friendly dog. There you have the Library Lover's Mystery series. 

I enjoyed this book just fine, but I doubt I'll remember any of it six months from now. In that way, too, it's like an episode of Murder, She Wrote. 

3.  What will you read next? I don't know. My TBD pile is rather tall.

Ruminations on death

A friend of a friend died. She had a heart attack early last week and, just as she was starting to recover, suffered a stroke and lost consciousness on Friday. She was kept alive on machines until Saturday night, until her brother and son could get to Miami to say goodbye. She was 77. Until her heart attack, she'd been in pretty good health. She'd recently learned that her first grandchild was on the way. So in all, I think she was lucky in how she passed.

I knew her through my friends in Key West. One of my friends, Henry, was especially devoted to her for the past decade. I spent a great deal of time on the phone with him this morning. It wasn't how I'd planned to start my Labor Day, but I was happy to be there for him.

If it sounds like there's a little tension in this post, it's because I never really liked the woman. She always struck me as precious and entitled. Much of this impression was formed by the way she insisted on dominating every room she was in. She made a big noise for a tiny woman. While she had great style and energy, she also was the one who always sent texts when we were en route to a bar or restaurant to meet her. She'd either be running late, or didn't want to go to the agreed upon spot, and plans would always have to be changed to accommodate her. Made me nuts.

Some of my impression was formed by an ugly stretch a few summers ago. This once wealthy woman of 70+  found herself, literally, homeless. Because she was racing through what was left of their parents' money at an alarming rate, her brother put her on an allowance. She found it impossible to live within her means and lost her home. There was a period of several weeks where she had nowhere to live. This was the time between when her home was foreclosed on and when she and a friend could begin sharing a rental.

Henry told her that, since they had plenty of room, she was welcome to stay at their home. For as long as she needed. Rent free, of course. That's the kind of trusting, generous friend he is.

Mistake. Big mistake.

The only restriction Henry put on her was that she do her best to not disrupt his partner. Reg is a bartender, then working two part-time jobs, which meant he was on his feet more than 10 hours a day. When he got home, usually around 11:00 at night, he wanted to be left alone to unwind until he went to sleep. He also demanded quiet in the morning until he awoke, around 9:00 AM.

That was all she had to do to live there -- be quiet between 11:00 PM and 9:00 AM.

She was unable to stay out of Reg's way. Whether it was awakening them at midnight because she couldn't find the remote for the TV in her room, or the doorbell ringing at 7:30 AM because she had parked where she shouldn't and boxed the neighbors in their driveway, there was drama each and every day. All of it avoidable. As her infractions added up and up and up, it caused domestic friction between her host couple. Finally Henry cornered her and said, "Reg interprets your behavior to mean you don't respect the house. One more incident and he's going to ask you to leave."

"No, he won't! Let me talk to him, I'll make it all right."

"Please don't discuss it with him. Just respect how hard he works and be quiet at night and in the morning."

Well, that night, she waited up for Reg. He was sitting on the back patio, having his last cigarette of the day and trying to decompress after a very long day of pouring shots and maneuvering drunk tourists, when she came bounding out. Acting as manically cheerful as Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? Instead of apologizing for her behavior, she tried to charm him, and he was not charmable. One thing led to another, tensions escalated and voices were raised, and Reg told her she had to move out within 48 hours.

Things were touchy among the friends for a while. Henry and Reg were upset with each other: Reg was angry she'd been bought into the house, Henry was hurt and embarrassed that she'd been thrown out. Instead of being embarrassed -- or perhaps to mask her embarrassment -- she acted like the martyr as she went to a motel she could ill afford.

They eventually made it up. She threw a big 75th birthday party for herself, and Reg surprised her by serenading her with her favorite song and a special toast.  All was forgiven.

But here's the thing: this morning Henry and Reg are feeling very guilty about that unfortunate incident at their home. Now that she's dead, they're wondering if they couldn't have been nicer to her.

PUH-LEEZE! IT HAPPENED! She wasn't perfect. She could be selfish and tone-deaf. She took advantage of their hospitality as if it were her due.

And when Henry beats himself up over the incident, he doesn't give himself credit for all he did for this woman. He fussed over her and told her she was beautiful, which she desperately needed to hear. He included her in his vast, diverse circle of friends. He applauded her poetry readings. And, at the end of her life, he drove 150 miles each way from Key West to Miami and back to hold her hand and say "goodbye." And to comfort her son, who had flown in from Baltimore to make that awful, final decision. Chad really didn't know many of his mother's friends, and I'm sure he appreciated how tender and attentive Henry was to both him and his mother at the end.

We're all three dimensional. Death doesn't ennoble us. She's gone from being a rather self-centered woman I didn't like to being a woman I didn't like who died.

I didn't say that to Henry this morning, though. Instead I reminded him of all the wonderful things he did for her, through good times and bad. I told him that I hope that, through his grief, he'll take comfort in and be proud of all he brought to her life.

And, as I say, we're all three dimensional. She was self-centered and tone-deaf and more than a little vain. But she was also vivacious and colorful and very involved with the local chapter of NOW. As recently as March she helped organize an event commemorating the Great Women's Suffrage March of 2013. She loved her son, and I'm glad she died knowing he was happy and about to be a father.

So I confess two things to my blog, both with tremendous sincerity: I'm glad I'll never see her again, and I hope she'll rest in peace.

Sunday Stealing

Sunday Stealing: The Mad Hatter's Meme


What’s the meaning or inspiration of your blog’s title? It was available and easy for me to remember.

What do you consider your biggest strength? I am loyal.

What do you consider your biggest weakness? I am almost criminally undisciplined.

Tell us why we should like your favorite band. I shall let the lads speak for themselves.



Who is your favorite model of all-time? Why? Twiggy, because I grew up on her.

Does it bother you when people talk about their pets? Why? Why would it bother me?

Tell us about your favorite holiday. My birthday. November 22, if you're taking notes.

What was the last fabulous meal that you ate? Where were you? Back in July, I had a fabulous chicken dinner at a restaurant called Roister. Seared chicken, fried chicken, chicken salad. We also had sushi, pasta and clams. It was awesome.

What’s your lucky number and why? 7. I have no reason why.

What are five things you hate? Religious intolerance, bullies, people who take up two seats on the train or bus, cigarette smoke, the sound of my alarm clock.

What are five things you love? The Cubs, The Beatles, critters, movies, books.

Tell us a secret you can because other than us, who’ll read this anyway? No, but thank you for asking.

What is the favorite body feature of yourself? My green eyes.

Is there a tattoo that you want? If you don’t have one, gun-to-your-head so you have to get one, what would it be? I have no intention of allowing anyone to inject ink under my skin, but if I had to in order to save my own life ...

What do you love about yourself? I'm a thoughtful and creative friend.

What do you hate about yourself? I can carry a grudge like nobody's business.

Who is someone you miss? My cat, Joey. He was a prince, and it was a privilege to have him in my life.

It was a beautiful day for a ballgame

75º and sunny. A gentle wind blowing in. Two of the best pitchers in baseball, mano a mano. Me and my friend John. What's not to love?

Well, the outcome. But it was close and we were in it to the end. Also, our record this year is so good that this loss won't matter a damn when the playoff matchups are determined.

The day started promisingly enough. I headed for the park wearing a Cubs "Mission October" shirt and carrying my Cubbie blue drawstring bag. The happy Saturday morning commuters smiled at me and wished me luck. "You're gonna see Big Jake!" one of them said, referring to our ace, Jake Arrieta. After another asked if I was going to the game, and I nodded, he said, "Look at her smile!" Two homeless men -- whom, I suspect, live on the train much of the weekend -- engaged me in a conversation about whether or not this is "the year." I am delighted by how the city is behind this Cub team.

I met John under the marquee at the Chicago Theater. We got to the park early enough to score our official Pepsi Cubs cups. Since he couldn't care less, I got his, too, so I'll have one for home and one for work. Yea!

We had terrific seats, upper terrace, along first base. It is, of course, a beautiful park and it was fun to watch it fill up with the Wrigley Field faithful. We got to watch the Giants take BP and see Jake warm up. We also got to catch up. He's feeling more positive about his health and prospects since his major health scare last May.

After the game, which didn't end exactly as we'd hoped, the
neighborhood is engulfed. 40,000 fans arrive at the park at their own pace, but we all leave at the same time and the trains and buses and packed. So John and I wandered up the street to Joe's on Broadway, a neighborhood bar that is favored by real Cub fans and locals -- not the tourists who were in town for Labor Day weekend. We talked baseball and movies and music and life for a couple hours and then headed on to our respective homes. Tired but happy.

I will leave you some views of the place I'd rather be more than anywhere else -- The Friendly Confines of Wrigley Field.

Saturday 9

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Saturday 9: It's a Man's Man's Man's World (1966)

Since Labor Day was introduced to celebrate the American worker, we are highlighting the hardest working man in show business: James Brown. Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.


1) Before he was able to support himself as a musician, James Brown shined shoes, boxed, picked peanuts and delivered groceries. He admitted he didn't enjoy any of those jobs. What was your least favorite job? When I was a secretary in a huge company. In retrospect, there was little camaraderie among the administrative staff, the men we worked for were all underutilized and so, consequently, were we and not having enough to do can turn a bored staff into a petty staff. I can see that now, with hindsight. At the time, I just knew I hated getting off the train every morning and heading to the office. I used to think it would be preferable to just ride the rails back and forth, back and forth, until 5:00.

2) What job have you enjoyed the most? In the product development division of a haircare company. I did the product packaging and promotional pieces. It was high stress but also great fun.

3) James loved performing and in the mid-60s, played 335-350 dates/year. Do you have time off this weekend? Or will you be working? Saturday is Day 2 of a lovely 4 day weekend.

4) With that grueling schedule, James spent a lot of time on the road. Do you enjoy traveling and staying in hotels? Or are you a homebody who prefers to sleep in your own bed? I love staying in hotels. Crisp white linens and lots of fluffy towels in the shower. And no guilt about just laying around and watching TV, because there's no kitchen sink with dishes to be done and no nearby dining room table filled with mail to be sorted.

5) While Millennials are the largest generation in the workforce, millions of Baby Boomers are still part of American labor. Do you think it's easy or hard for people of different generations to work together? Or don't you think age matters? I think age matters, but not specific generations. I'm sure I was once as exasperating to older employees as they now are to me. It just takes a different form. I remember how exhausting it was to deal with "old school" writers and art directors who were reluctant to learn the Mac. Now I'm sure my penchant for file folders filled with hard copies inspires eye rolls.

6) 72% of employers report that they give their employees sick days. Tell us about a time when you called in sick, but weren't. I called in once as the holidays approached, just because I was blue. I was mired in the middle of some family squabbles and was still getting over the then-recent death of my favorite uncle and things were weird at work and ... it was just all weighing me down. The day off gave me an opportunity to recharge and rejuvenate.

7) According to the 2010 Census, 5.9 million Americans regularly work from home. Is working from home something you have/you would enjoy? Or do you benefit from interaction with coworkers? I have to work with my art director. I know there are writers who can just email a manuscript and find making revisions online suitable, but I'm not one of them. I often don't enjoy the creative process -- Thursday afternoon I wanted to sock my art director for being so inflexible -- but I find the face-to-face collaboration does produce a better product.

8) 12% of workers report they prefer to report for work early -- before 7:00 AM -- so they can get more done. Are you a morning person? Ha! I find I work from 10:00 to 6:00, instead of 9:00 to 5:00. This works well for my team since my boss always leaves at 4:30, and my account team can count on having me there even after he's gone for the night.

9) The NFL season starts on September 8. How do you think your team will do this year? Puh-leeze! I'm all Cubs, all the time! We have the best record in all of baseball.

August Happiness Challenge -- Day 31

Look at my happy kitty

Wednesday's happiness: Michigan Avenue. This summer has been really humid and uncomfortable, so I haven't spent much time outdoors. Wednesday, though, was sunny and clear and comfortable and green and gorgeous. 

I walked up Michigan Avenue and took it all in. Millennium Park was verdant and bustling. I stopped at a restaurant I haven't been at since before Christmas and had a lovely solo lunch, finishing both my mystery and a drink before returning to the office ... refreshed and happy.

 

Each day in August you are to post about something that makes *you* happy. Pretty simple. And, it doesn't even have to be every day if you don't want it to be. It's a great way to remind ourselves that there are positive things going on in our lives, our communities, and the world.

If you want to play along, just come back here (meaning to this blog, not this individual post) each day in August, looking for the happy cat. Every day I will try to have a post with the headline: August Happiness Challenge: Day [X]. Leave a comment and then post your own daily happiness, with August Happiness Challenge in the title to make it easy to find. 

August Happiness Challenge -- Day 30

Look at my happy kitty

Tuesday's happiness: Kyle Hendricks. This Cub team has lots of big, colorful personalities with charisma to burn. But there's one player I always forget about: Kyle Hendricks.

He's quiet. He doesn't throw very hard. He's not exciting to watch, either on the mound or in front of the microphone.

Except damn, this year he just keeps winning. Tuesday night he led the team to victory, pitching seven scoreless innings. He now has the lowest ERA in the league!

The fact that this unsung hero is being talked about for the Cy Young Award makes me happy.
 

Each day in August you are to post about something that makes *you* happy. Pretty simple. And, it doesn't even have to be every day if you don't want it to be. It's a great way to remind ourselves that there are positive things going on in our lives, our communities, and the world.

If you want to play along, just come back here (meaning to this blog, not this individual post) each day in August, looking for the happy cat. Every day I will try to have a post with the headline: August Happiness Challenge: Day [X]. Leave a comment and then post your own daily happiness, with August Happiness Challenge in the title to make it easy to find.