1) Alice's Adventures In Wonderland
Alice was one gutsy little chick. I remember reading these books when I was little, and I was so happy to find my own copy this past weekend. I inhaled the first book as well as Through The Looking Glass last night and both, of course, are just as awesome as I remember. Alice doesn't take any crap from anyone. And she's only seven! She asks the best questions ("Excuse me, ma'am, but is this New Zealand or Australia?") and makes friends pretty easily. She rarely panics when she's in a tight spot (which is most of the time). She has excellent taste in clothes. I want those flat Mary Janes. Basically, Alice should be your role model. I know she's mine.
"Begin at the beginning, " the King said gravely, "and go on till you come to the end; then stop."
I don't think you could find better advice pretty much anywhere.
2) Big, gray men's sweatpants
I'm not wearing them now, but I wish I was. I always wish I was. I have the same pair of sweatpants from My Undergraduate Insitution that I've had since I was a freshman. They've seen me through thick and thin. When I was too stubborn and afraid of looking uncool to bring my slippers to college, I wore the elastic cuffs pulled down over my feet for warmth and made the bottoms hideously dirty by walking around on them. I pushed the cuffs up over my knees and wore them kind of (and inexplicably) like capris. They graciously still fit me when the end of freshman year when I had packed on about twenty pounds. If these sweatpants were a person, they'd be one of those awesome loyal friends that brings you whiskey instead of ice cream when your boyfriend breaks up with you. Gray Man Sweatpants, you rock.
3) Tom kha
Tom kha, I love you. Your broth is sweet and coconutty and savory, all at the same time. I don't even like sweet and savory flavors together but, tom kha, you have converted me. You caused me to slurp embarrassingly at my soup cup in the middle of a reasonably full restaurant, to get every last drop. You are perfectly seasoned. You, unlike the curry I followed you with, were pleasantly spicy and did not make me weep involuntarily. I wish I'd gotten prawns or chicken or even tofu in you, but you were good even with just vegetables. I want to marry you. I wish I knew how to cook you myself. Let's get an apartment together and decorate the exposed brick wall with black and white prints. I'll do the dishes every night. We'll listen to NPR. It'll be cool.