Say cheese.

Today's joie de vivre is Wisconsin cheese. You'll have to pardon me when I say this, vegans and those intolerant of all things lactose, but there is nothing greater, nothing finer, than a slice of Wisconsin cheese on top a cracker or when it's in cahoots with a sandwich.

I'll take cheese in almost any form, although I draw the line once it turns blue. But in almost every case, I prefer that it come from Wisconsin.

Why? It all boils down to pride. When I first meet someone here and they find out I'm from Wisconsin, 9 times out of 10 they will mention cheese (honorable mention: beer, the packers, and "Damn, I hear it's cold there"). I always welcome the cheese conversation, quite truthfully. I might go on to mention I have a cheese poster in my bedroom, or that I carried two pounds of it in my suitcase on my last trip back from the Badger state. I might mention a bumper sticker I have which states "Life is too short to live on grocery store cheese." I will very likely get into a rant about the sheer audacity of California's dairy campaign.

When I was growing up, my family used to pile into our van after church and head down the road to Rudolph, Wisconsin where we were known to pick up $80 of cheese in a single afternoon. Cheese and I go way back - we have a wonderful history together. If I want a piece of joy, I need to look no further than my refrigerator after a recent visit home. Behold, the power of cheese.

The day after tomorrow.

When I sat down to write my last entry, I was hopeful things would return to the up and up. What ended up happening was far from it - a few days following my furnace breaking down, a carbon monoxide leak was found in my apartment, leaving me homeless for a couple days, and in badly need of a shower.

Today's joie de vivre isn't necessarily flashy or something people generally consider when things are going good, but when the time comes we're all glad we have it: a helping hand. It's a boss who brainstorms with you who to call when your landlord isn't answering his phone. It's a new friend who offers her guest room and then puts a basket of towels and toiletries out because she assumed you didn't have time to pack any. It's someone who meets you for a beer and listens to you drone on and on about your problems. It's an old friend checking in with emails, and a mother who shares your outrage.

I am in the process of getting a new furnace. HVAC guys have been trampling around my apartment for the past two days, making more noise than I figured humanly possible. But the end result will be normalcy, so I say bring on the noise... it just means I'm one step closer to taking that badly needed shower.

Tomorrow.

It's hard to be joyful when it's -3 degrees out. I know those readers further north than Missouri are likely rolling your eyes at this blasphemous comment, thinking I don't know what cold even is. You're probably right. In fact, as a Wisconsin native, I've been saying that to Missourians who don't know how good they have it all week.

So, strike that. Let me rephrase. It's hard to be joyful when it's -3 degrees out and your house hasn't risen about 49 degrees in the past twenty four hours, despite it being set to a comfortable 70. It's hard to be joyful when Bruce, your landlord's "furnace guy" seems remarkably stumped at your situation, given his aforementioned title. It's additionally hard to be joyful when about the same time as the furnace giving out, your computer contracts a virus, shutting down all of the software and devices that are supposed to prevent this from happening in the first place.

I am not in the best of moods. But with the greatest effort I can muster, I am determined to find a silver lining. So today's joie de vivre? Knowing tomorrow will eventually be here. Today might well be a wash, but tomorrow still holds promise. I don't mean to go all Annie on you, but well - actually, I do. The sun will come out tomorrow. It won't always be below zero, my computer won't always be re-directing me to off-color websites, and I will one day regain feeling in my toes. I'll even bet my bottom dollar on it.

Oh Hanes, you temptress!

Today's joie de vivre are those special sweatpants in your life. You know the kind I'm talking about... The sweatpants you can't bare to part with no matter how unholy they become. Sure, the elastic has been stretched or ripped out and the stains have long since paid off their mortgage, but these pants are family. And you just don't throw away family, do you? No, you don't.

They may have long been retired as 'indoor pants' but nevertheless, they're always there to greet you in the bottom of your pajama drawer. Why don't you do yourself a favor and put your pair on. Eat a whole pie, and these pants won't judge you. Watch fifteen episodes of What Not to Wear and these pants will never accuse you of being lazy. These pants love you for exactly who you are.

Thank you, sweatpants, for making life a little more joyful - albeit a little more ugly. In this case, beauty is most definitely in the eye of the beholder.

falling in love with a coffee shop.

Today's joie de vivre are those hole-in-the-wall coffee shops in your town that don't describe their sizes in italian and whose customers don't seem to be in any great rush as they wait at the counter - in fact, they seem to have slowed down their pace completely once they walk into the doors. It's the sound of odd reggae beats thumping out of the coffee shop's speakers which is only to be followed Doris Day's rendition of "Que Cera". It's the taste of good - not bitter, not fancy, just good - coffee.

I've escaped my parents' home for a few hours and I can already feel myself returning back to normal. Maybe other people are more evolved than I am, but returning to my hometown for any length of time causes me regress to the state of a 17-year-old. I am incapable of waking before 9 am, I roll my eyes at practically anything my mother says, and I find myself reading alone in my bedroom and wishing I was somewhere else. It's nice to go someplace like this and 25 again.

I told myself I was going to work on some job applications while I was at the coffee shop, but I think I'm just going to appreciate my surroundings and all things joie de vivre a little while longer.

I've got my love (of quilts) to keep me warm.

Today's joie de vivre comes from quilts and the feeling you get buried beneath one on a cold winter day. I've spent 90% of my vacation thus far underneath a quilt or blanket, partially because my father prefers his house to be uncomfortably cool, and partially because being wrapped in a quilt feels decadent and cozy like a vacation should feel. My favorite quilt of all is a patchwork of my grandmother's which I received after she passed away. The quilt was created from my aunt's old dresses from the 60s and 70s and it's quite honestly the coolest thing I will ever own.

So if it's crappy cold wherever you are, reader, bundle under some covers and snuggle. My philosophy on life's joy demands it of you.

figuring it out

joie de vivre: realizations

Colorful bits of paper.

In the past few weeks, I've been down more times than I've been up. Too many tears for not enough reasons, that sort of thing. I've been restless- a few times without thinking I would just climb in my car, driving around Columbia at night trying to get lost (it's still possible, although I'm pretty good at guessing where I'll wind up). Knowing my way around a city shouldn't exactly bum me out, but for some reason it does. In my mind, I've somehow already uncovered everything cool about this place. Now, with a year left, things will stay stagnant and predictable.

I can't figure out what this Molly Malaise stuff is, but I'm certainly glad I had a reprieve from it this weekend. A few days ago, I got a strange little package in the mail from a friend which was filled with rolled up colorful pieces of paper. I had instructions to put them in a bowl and read a few each day.

Liz had written little notes in each piece of paper, saying nice (as well as ridiculous) things such as...
You listen with both ears and an open mind.
You have the incomparable ability to articulate the essence of a character in one word.

Not many people have a bowl of affirmations at their disposal. And I don't think it could have come at a better time - Molly Malaise doesn't stand a chance with friends like mine around.
Today's joie de vivre: unexpected support.

Sandwich Love

Today's joie de vivre is unexpected comments and compliments from strangers - which for whatever reason can carry more weight than if said by a friend or loved one. To celebrate the almost-weekend, I decided to pull a lazy and not put together dinner tonight. Instead, I drove to the Sub Shop, Columbia's hole-in-the-wall and oh so delicious sandwich shop. As I waited to place my order, a man waddled up to the counter and then handed me a playing card which would be called when my sandwich was ready.

"Here's the Ace of Spades," he said.

"Motorhead!" I blurted out.

The man looked at me, set down his pen, and his eyes widened.

"I. love. you."

My boyfriend then proceeded to find me the biggest deli pickle he had in the back and sent me on my way. As I ate my delicious veggie sandwich (which I of course got with turkey) and eyed my giant pickle, I had to laugh. Somebody out there loves me. ;)

Campylobacter jejuni Respiratory Oxidases and Reductases

"LB-do-you-think-I-should-get-an-iPod-nano-or-Classic-Melissa's-children-are-so-cute-I-can't-get-over-it-did-you-know-Forgetting-Sarah-Marshall-has-FULL-FRONTAL-NUDITIY?!!"

Today's joie de virvre comes from my sister Becky. Becky - who now as an adult goes by Rebecca if anyone asks - is about to receive her doctoral degree in microbiology from N.C. State this weekend. My sister is incredibly smart, incredibly silly, and can say more things in a minute than some people can say in an hour. She can make you furious but five seconds later she can make you forget why you were mad at her in the first place. Becky's moving to D.C. soon to do post-doc work (see what I'm saying? SMART.) and I can't emphasize enough how proud I am of Dr. Becky, my sister!

"What's your jwaaaa-de-virrr whatever going to be today?" Becky asked me on the phone earlier this evening. My feet were dangling in the air as I tried to pick out the fuzz from between my toes. "I don't know yet, B. I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

apples to apples

Today's installment of life joy was brought to you by fall's return of the honeycrisp apple. They are delicious and delightful and currently 1.99 a pound. They make me happy. They make me give kissy faces. They prompt an entire apple photo shoot but in effort to keep up the illusion that I'm not a complete loser and I do have work to do, I will simply leave it at this. Thank you, Mr. Honeycrisp, for Tuesday's joie de vivre.

Ou est me joie de vivre?

My friend Hsiu-Hui and I were walking around campus this afternoon and we started talking about how difficult this semester has become. We talked about our case loads, classes, personal issues, etc. We were going round and round in circles until all of the sudden I shouted "OU EST ME JOIE DE VIVRE??" to the entire quad.

Hsiu-Hui's first language is Chinese and she stared at me for a few seconds blankly until eventually giggling at my terrible french accent. I explained that 'joie de vivre' meant 'life's joys' in French and that I thought we were currently lacking in that particular department. I told Hsiu-Hui of my newly formed plan of Project: Reclaim My Joie de Vivre.

I don't know if I'm sold on any theoretical foundation in counseling yet, but one I keep coming back to is Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. To simplify, It's just the idea that our perceptions and beliefs about events can get is stuck in cognitive ruts. If we're constantly seeing everything as bad, the world becomes a bad place and we begin to internalize the bad feelings.

I've been internalizing the bad feelings and I need to knock it off or I'll never make it out of this semester alive. So, each day I'm determined to appreciate one thing or do one thing that makes me happy. Today I was driving home and that ridiculous 60's song about sharing an umbrella at a bus stop came on. So, the first thing I appreciated today about the world was how wonderfully random it can be. My Aunt and Uncle met in an elevator. Their son met his wife through a crazy guy sitting on the bus. A high school friend of mine met her fiance because her apartment flooded and her fiance was the firefighter who came to help her clean the place up. My dad met my mom at a bar when my mom's friend elbowed my mom and said, "I get the blonde, you get the brunette." It's comforting to know that life gives you random surprises via the people you meet. And that you never know who's just around the corner from being a part of your life.