I was all set to embark on a two-paragraph addendum to the Douche Coterie dedicated to Anderson Cooper (if that IS his real name!!!), but as I harumphed around my astoundingly empty apartment (I drove the last of my Freundekreis to the Long Beach airport today–slowly, sure, but you got there safely and punctually, did you not? If you wanted to get there in a big hurry you could have hitched a ride on that street-sweeper) I realized: perhaps I complain too much. I forget that I complain too much because I enjoy complaining so much that it makes me really happy and I neglect to remember that hippies and Christians think complaining is "negative." So, hippies and Christians, here are ten things I unabashedly, shamelessly love (and I won’t even put Disneyland on that list, as it’s a given).
- Grapefruit. Particularly the five that were recently in my apartment until they became one (and, as of tomorrow morning, zero), and particularly the way they smell. Every time I walk by the kitchen I take a grapefruit and stuff it in my face and snort like that dude in that one movie everyone loves with the cocaine. This grapefruit in particular was some sort of superhuman variety that tasted like…well, grapefruit I guess, but since I love grapefruit, that should suffice (diyanu!).
- Rice pudding. I always forget about it because something about commercial rice pudding makes me suspicious (like I think they’re going to stick mayonnaise in it or something, and this is a list of things I love so I will not mention the m-word again), and now that I’ve put the kibbosh on dairy I’m researching ways to make a soy-based rice pudding (a second course to the eggless ravioli I am inventing). I just hope it’s not too good because I’ve still got sugar on my enemies list.
- The snow that is currently on the mountains near where I live. It’s so breathtaking you almost don’t notice the subdivisions bordering it. Also not too much beats looking at some snow up in the mountains while you’re down here without a jacket on because it’s 65 degrees and beautiful. Speaking of which…
- Winter sunlight. Anywhere. Reminds me of love. Don’t know why. And yes, even I believe in love, whatever that is (or DO I?).
- When Cartman says he wants to kick someone squaaaaaaaah in the nuts. I’m sorry, but if you don’t think that’s funny then you are Eric Clapton.
- The entire past three weeks, which involved a lot of sleep, a lot of goofing off and walks and laughing, and a whole lot of:
- The Nibelungenlied. I don’t know why anyone wrote a damn word in German after it, because as far as I’m concerned, it is not only the Alpha of the German canon, but it’s the Omega as well. It’s seriously the greatest thing I’ve read in German in ages (yes, Prof. K., that includes KAFF, though now at least I get the CREAM-HILLED allusion)…in the MIDDLE ages, that is. Ha. The Nibelungenlied contains, and I am not making this up, a scene in which King Gunther attempts to make love to his new wife Brünnhilde and, because she has magic superhuman strength, instead she binds his hands and feet with her girdle and hangs him on a nail for the night. Then later a lot of people die. It sure beats the hell out of Das abenteuerliche Simplicissimus, though that, too, contains some gems, such as when our hero attempts to puke the devil out of himself.
- Yurts. All right, not real ones, I’m way too bougie for those, but yurt-esque wooden round houses with one big room and a big skylight and maybe a deck with an outdoor shower. I have many big plans for my imaginary fake yurt of the future, which include but are not limited to a massive garden, a sunflower field, some fruit-bearing trees and a new-fangled toilet (I draw the line at human composting, people).
- New York City. Everyone there, native or adopted, temporarily or permanently, please give it my heartfelt seasons’ greetings–by which I mean elbow through Christmas tourists swearing and develop a drinking habit. And for the love of God or lack thereof, eat at Murray’s Bagels.
- I’d say my family, friends and special man-pal but that would be disgusting and predictable (and totally goes without saying, derh), so instead I will say dried motherfucking granny smith apples and cinnamon, those damn things are amazing.
So there. Like the Grinch, I do have a heart, and it loves at least ten things. Now fuck off. RS + Siegfried 4EVs! Brünnhilde iz a biotch!