There's no such thing as a random act of kindness.

Honestly, I don't watch a lot of the news. 

I never have - I'm really more of an entertainment girl - but especially once I got to New York the local news was just too horrible and depressing.

But alas, I went and fell in love with a newsman.

I love that Brian Williams and sometimes, just sometimes, I'm willing to tune out the bad news for that sparkle in his eye. 

So imagine my surprise when today's news stories went something like this.

The "layaway angels." This rampant good-deed-doing sweeping the nation, this paying it forward, this desire to make yourself feel better (and that is not a bad thing, not at all) - all started by some woman in Michigan. Go figure.

One hundred... and one. We do a great job collectively, I think, of rallying around a cause. Until the next cause comes along (and one always does). Or until our own lives get in the way. Until we forget. But this guy said nope. Nope - I made a commitment when Katrina's devastation was everywhere, and even though the images are gone from the minds and TVs of most of the country, he hasn't forgotten. He promised to build 100 homes in one of the most ravaged parts of New Orleans. Until someone told him about the New Orleans lagniappe tradition - think a baker's dozen - and he went the extra mile, to 101.

Oh, did I mention he's the CEO of Barnes and Noble? Just goes to show you - books make everybody better.

Fairy dogparents. Do I really even need to say anything else?

There are good, good people in this world. Everywhere. I hope to be the kind of person that makes other people want to do good things.

Merry Christmas to all you beloved do-gooders!

(Especially you, Brian Williams, you cute thing.)

Bigger than football.

To everyone who thinks that college football is a detriment to our development, and that "kids today" can't be trusted to do the right thing, say the right thing, or step up to the plate,

that players today care more about bling than they do about God

or each other

or their communities

that these huge programs have taken over, and in their dominance have overshadowed why we go to college, why we cheer on Saturday afternoons, or what it means to be a member of something bigger than yourself...

I say you are wrong.

I'm proud of so many members of the Penn State family, the college football community in its united entirety, who have come together to remind us all the incomprehensible sins of some are not the attitudes of us all.
Hang in there, Lions.
Hang in there, State College.
Hang in there, everyone. Let's all do what we can to make sure lessons are learned.
O-H.

(5) Reasons to Be Happy

An impending Saturday afternoon trip to Target is always a reason to be happy.

But today's shopping list makes me extra giddy:
1. some kind of a string-type thing
2. toys with bells inside them
3. treats - i'm thinking liver or chicken flavored
4. nature's miracle

That's right, all; there are two new Stones in the world.

Meet Scout and Jem. I'm a horrible mother - I can't even tell which one is which - but these are my two newest, fluffiest, sweetest, tiniest, bright-eyed and bushytailed reasons to be happy.

(5) Reasons to Be Happy

After six long weeks of boot imprisonment, I get to go back to yoga tonight.
I'm sure my entire body will wimper and whine tomorrow, just as I'm sure my mind will find some much-needed rest.
It's been a tough week, complete with migraine and sick grandma and the unceremonious end of a college football legend.
Anybody else need a little namaste?

(4) Reasons to Be Happy

When she's happy, I'm happy.
Really, are there really people in the world who don't get how important/special/wonderful/snuggly it is to have a little unconditional love every once in awhile?
And also, I'm pretty frickin happy at how I'm rockin' out those pajama pants.

(3) Reasons to Be Happy

I'm not so much for cooking, but I make a seriously kick-ass grilled cheese sandwich. This was number somewhere-around-nine-in-a-row. And it was good. And I was happy.

(2) Reasons to Be Happy

Okay, so, the struggling streak continues. This morning I was leaving my parents' house when I realized I'd left something inside. Jumped out, slammed the car door, and forgot to move my hand first. Two stitches (wimpy, I know), and blood and mascara all over my shirt. The woman wanted to put my finger in a splint; I just gave a long, meaningful look at my booted-up foot and said, "Lady...  no."
I admit, I broke down and cried like a baby. It hurt like hell, but mostly it just made me feel a little like the universe is still acting like a big ol' bully to me.
But there are still some really, really, really great reasons to be happy. Why I was home in the first place, for example.
So today's reason to be happy:

Lifelong friendships, made even friendlier by pumpkin-pie flavored booze.