Happy Apocalypse Day!

Dear Friends:

I am writing this post last night in case the world ends today (Friday). I'm doing it because I care about you, and I would hate to think I hadn't given you anything interesting to read during the apocalypse. That would be appalling. Also, I figured if I just went to bed (because frankly I'm exhausted after a day of Christmas/Earth-Explosion shopping), I might be too tired to get up and cram out a post before the zombies/Mayans/nukes/Rapture happens. I mean, what does one wear to a Super-Nova? It's going to take some thought.

Well, as I visualize everything I know and love swirling into a great vortex of doom, I am struck by a few things. Things I would miss. Apart from my family and friends, I mean. Small things. Things that put the patina on life:

• Hot chocolate. Also lemonade. The way they slowly spread through your chest and limbs when you're cold/hot. Like when you've just come in from building an epic snowman, or after spending a sun-blasted day in the garden. That.
• The feeling you get after you sneeze. You know the one I mean. It feels like you just had your lungs and brain vacuumed out by Amy Adams in the movie Enchanted. Sparkly, glittery breath of fresh air and cotton candy. 
• That little bit of inertia you experience when you come to a stop at a red light. I love that. It makes the OCD in me happy. When people come to a perfectly smooth stop and there's no resolution of forward motion, I sort of hyperventilate into my mouth a little.
• Ireland
• England
• Scotland
• Straight-leg jeans. In rainbow colors.
• Christmas music
• Christmas music in July
• Oh please, honey. Dark chocolate covered Acai berries.
• The first time a baby tastes something sweet.
• The first time a baby tastes something sour.
• Dads with their kids. Like the dad my daughter and I saw at the gym yesterday, toting his little curly-haired mini-me's out to the car after his workout. Sooooo adorable. Nothing like a tough man turned to mush by his own children.
• Pinterest. Even though I fear it is probably not very legal. At least, not the way any of us really want to use it: like our personal cork-board-of-magazine-dreams. I love all the new ideas and creativity one can find there. The inspiration for writing. Dressing. Eating. Vacationing-with-the-family-ing. Even though all I do these days is browse, not pin.
• Cilantro. What a great addition to anything with a south-of-the-border flair. Especially when lime is also involved. And siestas.
• The mini roller coaster stomach-plunges you get when you drive down deep gorges or over speed humps. Which I definitely don't break the speed limit to drive over. For reals. It doesn't take much to plunge my stomach. Maybe I should delete this one.
• Reading The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe for the first time sitting in a lawn chair beneath a tree and getting caught in an early spring rain in Maryland. Like I did when I was nine.
• The smell of freshly cleaned babies. Sheesh. What's up with all this baby stuff? I'm waaaay too old for that. Grandchildren? Ack! Waaaay too young.
• Rolling my eyes when Christmas Shoes comes on the radio for the 873rd time.
• All the memories that flood back when I smell cinnamon and clove.
• And last but absolutely not least:
• The smell of Libraries. And also, British television. Watching it, not smelling it.

Hmm. You know? I don't think the world should end. There's too much lovely stuff in it. Too many great memories. Too many good people who do good things. Nope. I think the Mayans have to be wrong. So let's show them by still existing on Saturday. And every day thereafter. But most especially, let's stick around for Christmas. I've got some funky looking gifts waiting under the tree. And not just for me.

So it's a date. I'll see you on Christmas–or slightly thereafter. Bank on it, my friends. And I hope yours is very merry and chocolate acai berry filled. Happy day!