In high school, sometime during third year, a small group of bright sunshine-y girls started the Happiness Notebook. It started as something to keep us from falling asleep during Trigo, and then morphed into something that I suppose really captured what it was to be a fumbling wide-eyed adolescent in the mid-90s, wearing both starch-white ruffles and your heart on your sleeve, discovering for the first time that infinite possibilities of the world (and the body 🙂 ), getting silly and giddy and giggly the way fifteen-year-olds are supposed to be. We called it the “Happiness Notebook” because we wrote there stuff that made us happy. They weren’t big things, certainly. It was happiness according to how we defined it — and we defined it according to the standards of the simpler, gentler world we belonged to. Like getting our crushes to take us to the prom. Or defeating Assumption in an inter-school debate. Or sneaking alcohol inside our Coleman jugs and making like sophisticated blase college students despite the dorky blue jumper and the ruffled blouse. Or getting into long giggling fits any given time of the day, for the flimsiest of reasons.
I recount this because this week I feel the need to channel the happiness notebook, and how it seemed to have made everything possible and everyone freer and braver and more invincible. I’m about to leave a job I truly love and plunge into a new endeavor. I feel excited about it, but like all life-changes, it scares me. Had a fight with someone I had grown to be truly fond of, characterized by angry and heated exchanges of text messages and disorienting me in a way that I could not have expected. Still sad about election results. Lost my pink swiss knife (super cool, because it has a mirror, a small vial of lip and cheek tint, a nail file, needle and thread, and a tiny pink flashlight among other stuff). Was manipulated into getting a hair detox and paying an obscene amount of money only to have my hair up even more sunog and brittle than it already was. Had a hearing yesterday and forgot to wear shoes (so naka tsinelas ako sa Quezon City Hall of Justice).
Hence to counter that string of “bad tidings”, here are ten happy things that happened in my universe this week, small and big, not in order of importance:
1. Went ukayukay shopping and with P800, I was able to buy three dresses, four skirts, four blouses, and the hottest slinkiest skankiest come-hither cocktail dress EVER.
2. Had free pancit with Ning last Wednesday. Free food is good. Always.
3. Iona is in love.Yippee. Love is good. Always. Well, not always. But in this case it is. Hehe.
4. Watched Ocean’s Thirteen. Two words: George Clooney. That’s why I can never completely give up older men. *grin*
5. They didn’t cheat Trillanes. Congratulations, Mr. Senator.
6. I’m going to go to Vietnam next week with Rachel and see Jordan. Too bad we don’t have time to got to Cambodia anymore.
7. Reports have it that Edong (“Cry the Beloved Country(side)”) wants to come back. If this were really true– as I have yet to speak to him in person — it would be enough good news to make up for one month’s worth of bad tidings.
8 . Jeremy’s coming home to Manila for a vacation. Yay.
9. Someone texted me asking if she could order my chicken liver pate and do I do goose liver? Naks. Kitchen goddess.
10. I’m moving on. Slowly and surely, I am. 🙂
So I read the list once more, and realize, it’s not such a bad list. It’s true what they say, after all. Count your blessings. Say thank you. And realize that maybe, you’re not getting as bad a deal as you thought.