Not the show.
It’s one of those nights where I need the reminder. So when I’m feeling less than stellar, I can turn to this and know that I have great taste, I’m sensitive, I dig people, and I am a pretty incredible human.
100. Coming to America. Such a fantastic movie.
99. Having people point out that I write strangely. I’m left-handed. I turn my page 90 degrees to the left and write from bottom to top. And my handwriting is phenomenal, I’ll have you know.
98. Having that bonding moment when a left-handed person gives you that knowing nod upon recognizing that you, too, are left-handed.
97. My daughter’s one-man show every time she’s in the shower. It’s not just singing. It’s conversations, monologues, random singing…
96. Fancy conditioners.
95. Drag queens. I saw some last night at Blush and Blu and HOLY COW. I want to be done up as a drag queen. A friend of mine and I talked about how that could be a silent auction item — a drag makeover. I’d be all over it.
94. White noise.
93. The sky in Colorado. The mountains in Colorado. The people in Colorado.
92. Corned beef hash from a can and runny eggs.
91. Making gifts for people by hand.
90. Spelling the word “gray” as “grey.”
89. Restaurant owners who go around to tables to greet people and beam with pride about their establishments.
88. Clients who go out of their way to provide positive feedback.
86. Fancy hats. Fascinators. There it is. I love them.
85. Cloudy days in the fall.
84. Doing projects with my daughter.
83. Leslie Jones.
82. My family near and far.
81. Monty Python
80. I’m tired.
79. I took an anxiety pill earlier because I got bad news and I’m not ready to talk about it so I’m attempting to look at the bright side and it’s not working.
78. But effort counts. So, effort. That’s a thing.
77. Knowing I have loyal, fierce friends who will back me up and just constantly serve as reminders of how lucky I am to be surrounded by such amazing freaking individuals.
76. Sentences that ramble and don’t really make sense.
75. Watching myself half-ass trying to be funny in order to distract myself (and you) of the vulnerable stuff that isn’t ready to erupt.
74. I’m still counting down.
73. I’ve been writing all of this while lying on the floor in the bathroom as my daughter showers
72. She’s done now. She’s singing a song right now. “I love my arm! It’s great how it bends at the elbow!”
71. I guess this is it for now.
70. And I’m not correcting my title, because perhaps I’ll just come back and edit it tomorrow and add a few more things. Like, 70 things.