Heavily into it.

When I like something, I usually REALLY like it.  Maybe it's because I don't allow myself to indulge in things that cost money in general...so that makes my passion and appreciation run so deep for certain things in my life.  Things purchased, or just stumbled upon, I get so excited about, that sometimes it's hard to keep it in.

In conjunction to this facet of my over excitable personality, I get equally giddy when I see a friend who discovers something that makes their life genuinely more enjoyable.  Now these things come and go for me.  Some lusts are so powerful, they stay the same (*See baby otters below) but for the most part I love the feeling of new lovely things, books, music, and ideas flitting onto my radar, only to be subtly substituted in their own time by something shiny and new. 

In the essence of the never tiresome adage, "sharing is caring," I thought I'd throw some of my current faves of life in general out there, in hopes someone might share back with me and I'll have a new reason to rant uncontrollably.

Right now rants:

1) Towel Warmer/Dryer: 

Upon first encountering this odd creation everywhere I stayed while visiting many European countries, I considered, and probably muttered to my sister and tireless travel companion, "I think it strange  and frivolous for a people who don't take much stock in the value of bathroom comforts in general (i.e. no bathtubs...or shower heads you don't have to manually hold up...) to invest precious square footage and electricity in such a foreign device.  All for your towels to be warm?

Wrong.  Anna fail.  Since receiving this glorious and strikingly random gift from my all wise and knowing mother for Christmas, I have seen the error of my ways.  The Towel Warmer/Dryer is an essential item for anyone who doesn't live on multiple acres of land (i.e. an apartment) with the ability to line dry certain un-tumble dry able items and wet towels.  In conjunction, for people don't  desire the smell and presence of mold and mildew to permeate one's towels and subsequently, one's very life.   There are few things I hate more than the smell of mildewy towels, (As of late my friends and I are realizing how increasingly things we say could easily be overheard in a retirement home, and the prior statement is a great example of that notion) and since receiving this strange, metal gift...the foe of mold has been eradicated from my life.  The warming aspect is but a comforting bonus in owning said product.  Dryin' it out...that's what the Euros knew it was all about.

2) Baby otters:

I mean come on...does it get any better than a baby otter?  The answer is no.  No, it does not.  From their squidgy little faces to seal like physique...these guys are the tops in my book of cutest angels of all the earth.  And what's best, is when they grow up...STILL CUTE!  Crackin' those shells on their belly, floating through life with out a care (except for the killer whale)...they just rock my world.  So much that my life love Lindsay knowingly gave me a stuffed animal puppet otter who I named Rachel, and is the third, oh so well behaved member of my marriage.  Otters for life!

3) I Was Told There'd Be Cake by Sloane Crosley

There hasn't seemed to be enough time and distance in my 28 years on earth to get a clear read on exactly what my generation is about.  It's all a kind of neon blur of Fresh Prince, scrunchies, Best Friend necklaces and square ball (Four Square for some of you.)  Slowly but surely, other people my age are getting their acts together in a major way and memorializing the strange, lost and oh so formative years of the late 80's/ early 90's. Sloane Crosley, or Sloane as I call her because I make believe we are friends, is one of those people.

In this book, she has taken the underbelly of my undefinable generation from her perspective...flipped it right side up to show the world what "our" time stood for, and how it shaped her into the hilariously ridiculously neurotic woman she is today.

My favorite short story was centered around awkward birthing pains of the computer game generation.  The chapter "Bring-Your-Machete-to-Work-Day" specifically focused on the floppy disk that struck me to my early 90's sentimental core... "Oregon Trail."

She writes as if I could have...  

"For me, Oregon Trail was a private affair-something I engaged in after dinner when I was supposed to be doing homework.  At the time I was going through a somewhat awkward phase, both the "somewhat" and "awkward" being total understatements." 

As I read this I honestly sighed, "Oh good, I thought it was just me."

Continuing to describe this literally pioneering game, she writes...

 "Unlike other games of the day, which had me leaping through traffic or called me "gumshoe," Oregon Trail left lots of room for creativity.  It seemed ripe for the misuse.  Like a precursor to the Sims, you were allowed to name your wagoners and manipulate their destinies.  It didn't take me long to employ my powers for evil.  I would load up the wagon with people I loathed, like my math teacher.  The I would intentionally lose the game, starving her or fording a river when I knew she was weak. " Eventually a message would pop up in the middle of the screen, framed in a neat box: MRS. ROSS HAS DIED OF DYSENTERY.  This filled me with glee."

 Now her short stories are not at all confined to nostalgia, but unleashed to explore her adult life of amazing compulsions (See Chapter: "The Pony Problem") but for today I so appreciate her ability to apologetically reinforce my feelings that we didn't have sock hops, we didn't have Woodstock...But darn it, we had Oregon Trail.