I'mErica Online
This rocks!
This is my 1997 "Things That Make Me Happy" page revived.  It still rings true.  I'll be updating it periodically.

My brother's better-late-than-never arrival.

Falling into unexpected, great conversations on the bus.

Christmas -- corny and commercial though it is.

The color red, it's my favorite.

The rain -- before, during and after.

Moments of clarity.

My writers' group ( in SF...I really miss them, I vow to hook up with some writers when I return to NY).

Riding the subway, especially at night...best of all -- to nowhere.

Finding women whose lives don't revolve around getting, keeping or recovering from a man.

Love is fine, but there's so much more to life...like developing an actual personality.

Conspiracy theories, the more intricate the better. Orgasmic bliss may result if the theory is somehow able to link multiple assassinations, aliens, the CIA and, as a super-dooper bonus -- the World Health Organization.

Martin Luther King's "I Have Dream Speech."  It was given on my birthday.

My friends. You find the truest friends when truest to your Self.

Freaking out men in the Craftsman section at Sears by telling them that, no, I don't need help -- I can find a Phillips screwdriver all by my widdle self. The icing on top is the scared look on their face when they realize I know the name of a tool as if to say, "What traitor gave this chick the keys to the kingdom?!"

That goes double at Radio Shack.

The way my mind always surprises me with its twits [SIC] and turns of new perceptions and ideas. [Like Freudian slips so good, I gotta leave 'em be.]

Being biracial. Everything happens for a reason. It's been the source of many lessons. When monoracial people tell me how hard it must be or lay any of their stereotypes and opinions (unfounded because they have no experience as a biracial person) on me, I'm reminded of one of those sappy, motivational posters. Don't pray for an easy life...pray to be a strong person.

Life's little ironies. The big ones, too.

New York City!

Good music. Sometimes I hear a certain sound or phrase and am aware that the author was, if only for a moment, touched by the hand of God, as some people see it. I don't know what I believe in, other than Truth.

Forgetting myself when I write.

Feeling my fingers wandering about [my computer keyboard], finding their natural rhythm. Closing my eyes and letting it flow out of me, as if a song I know from memory.

Life lessons, especially the way they come just when you need them most. Pure love. Acceptance is a prerequisite.



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