You all may have noticed by now that every once in a while I like to throw some life facts at ya, usually in the form of “Five Favorite” somethings. For this PSA, I’m letting you in on a little secret … these are the five things I absolutely could never live without. What are yours? Hit me up in the comments. Maybe we have a little something in common?
Yep, I’m one of those people. I’ve been drinking coffee regularly since high school, a dependency that reached frightening levels in college. I once tried to cut back and suffered debilitating headaches. In 2012-13, when I was working crazy hours as a freelance reporter and writing long into the early morning hours, I started getting migraines—turned out I was basically overdosing on caffeine. I’ve since managed to find a balance that gets me through the day fairly painlessly, but it’s funny to me that I literally can’t live without a big ol’ cup o’ joe in the morning and an afternoon jolt, without subjecting myself to some rather unpleasant side effects. But aside from its wondrous superpowers, I love coffee for the taste. The smell. The warmth that spreads throughout my entire body with that first sip. Coffee’s not a drink. It’s a religion.
My Body Pillow
This is a weird thing to admit publicly, but I stopped sleeping on regular bed pillows around 2007 or 8. I was having an oddly restless night and had to get up for an early class. Fed up with flipping to the cold side, I tossed my pillow off my bed and reached instead for the squashy, velvety body pillow that had been a Christmas gift from my grandmother. I plumped it up, rolled to one side and put one end under my head and hugged the rest of it. It was like sleeping with a cloud and I knocked right out. I guess it’s sort of become an addiction now, because I haven’t slept on any other pillow ever since. I don’t hug it anymore (let’s hear the single jokes roll in with that one, if that were the case), but it still lays across the top of my bed and going to sleep each night is like laying my head on a cushy cloud. Don’t knock the body pillow, man. It’s dang comfy. I went through a phase where I even brought it with me to people’s houses … I try not to do that anymore.
I mean, duh. Take a look at this blog! I like to think being such an addict is making me a more empathetic, thoughtful member of society and not just rotting my brain. But my god, do I love to immerse myself in a powerhouse novel or riveting television drama. I can’t imagine trying to go a day, let alone a week or longer, without some form of pop culture. It links us, even though it’s fiction. I’ve formed entire friendships based on nothing but the fact that they’re as obsessed as I am with The Walking Dead or Harry Potter. I love it all and can never get enough: Movies, TV, music, theatre, musical theatre, literature, art. Anything that evokes creativity through expression and tells a story.
Even though I have to live without it for way too many days out of the year, when I finally find myself reunited with the big blue, it’s like my soul exhales a sigh of relief. It’s cleansing. And I do mean the ocean itself, not just the beach, though obviously relaxing on the sand with the salty sea air washing over me is heaven in itself. But if you put me on a boat or an island and surround me with seriously nothing but that wide expanse of water, I feel like a new person. More than once, I’ve toyed with the idea of just moving my entire life to an island. People do it. I’ve met many folks on my modest travels who vacationed to a certain spot and just never went home. The prospect is all too tempting. I came incredibly close to working for Norwegian Cruise Line a few years ago, on a ship that would’ve been sailing the Hawaiian islands over and over again. The setting sounded perfect, but the job did not, so I turned it down. If I didn’t like writing so much and didn’t have my heart set on reporting on entertainment for the rest of my life, I’d probably be living in a beach hut somewhere. Eh, maybe I will anyway someday.
Give me cheese or give me death. It’s my only food weakness. And it’s found in all my favorite things. It’s stupid how much I love cheese.