The sound of late night chatter.
My morning coffee and cigarette.
Sparrows playing around my table waiting for a crumb or two.
The smells of childhood (Play-Doh, Strawberry Shortcake Doll, LipSmakers, Coppertone Sunscreen etc.).
The crisp feeling of Winter.
The peacefulness of my friends when they are just content being.
A good book while cuddling.
Seeing a line that I don’t have to wait in.
The smell and act of doing laundry.
Taking pictures of random things filled with meaning and calmness.
Looking at the things that surround me.
The statue in the Sculpture Garden that moves with the wind.
Breaking little rules.
Silent films.
Reading biographies and feeling as though I actually lived through the ‘50s.
The feeling of content and clarity and forgetting about worry and guilt.
The numbers 82 and soixante-deux.
Talking in a British accent when no one is around.
Going to museums and galleries when I can just stop and appreciate something I could never make myself.
Grocery shopping at two in the morning.
The memory of uncomplicated childhood puppy love.
Talking about the things that you’re not supposed to talk about.
Driving around LA in an attempt to get lost in order to discover new places.
Seeing a performance (music, dance, theatre, etc.) from the first row.
The feeling I had sitting in my box seat watching Peter and his band perform.
The feeling I had when I first saw him perform, watching his every move on the piano.
The birthday call I get every year from Lara.
Running into amazing public and pop culture figures when I’m just going to the movies.
Bizarre and unique names.
Witnessing peoples reactions to films, especially scary movies when someone really doesn’t like them.
The reaction I get when people find out what types of movies I was raised on and what was banned in my house while growing up.
People with seemingly random thought processes.
Observing how people walk across the street.
Decoding a person’s personality based on their ringtone of choice.
When my “Nor Cal” friends get bashful after slipping in a “hella” to the conversation.
Pictures that incite fun memories.
Knowing when to stop and buckle down…which I’m going to do right now.
Eavesdropping on the conversations of people I will never meet.
Watching the smoke at night.
A rainy day when I have a million things to do.
When my friends imitate the passing sounds.
The response from Lauren when I ask, “What sounds do penguins make?”
Un-political politics.
When people learn the rules, play by the rules, respect the rules, and then earn the right to break the rules.
The rustling sounds of the shouting paparazzi.
Spur of the moment trips to Jimi’s.
The moments and feelings that are impossible to describe.
The cute little indie boy that’s riding his bike past me right now and in circles.
Chatting with security guards.
People that respect my personal bubble and certain people that don’t.
People that are strong enough to invade my personal space.
Seeing people document their lives, friends, and memories on film (camera, not necessarily video).
The fact that I can’t spell correctly without spell-checker.
Being know as the “mother” of the group.
Guys who know how to act around animals and kids.
How words rub off on people.
Organized chaos.
When my room is legitimately messy.
Being sober to my OCD.
The fact that I can’t type the word “fridge.” It always comes out “ridge.”
Jack Johnson’s brilliant observation that “silent films are full of sounds.”
Doing things for the sake of doing them when there’s no pressure to do so.
The positive outcomes of anxiety and fear.
Thinking about a wonderful future.
Moments like this.
When the pressures of the world disappear.
Making people laugh when it’s not expected.
Saying what’s on my mind (not usually an opinion but rather a random thought…much like Pop-Up Video).
The concept behind Pop-Up Video.
The fact that I believe every moment, every second happens for a reason.
The confusing nature of me.
My bi-polar-ness of Stepford Wife-dom and incite-ful rebel.
Making up words that will never make it into the Oxford English Dictionary.
Selective hearing.
Practicing my skills as an unskilled member of the paparazzi.
Surprising people.
Spelling words the British way.
The feeling after finishing a paper and the sound of the printer at four in the morning—any other time is just not as magical.
The feeling of being in the safe-ness of my comfort zone after having ventured out of it for a while.
The bottomless pit that is my purse.
The innocent-ness in the way I can’t light a cigarette the first time.
The opening line in the film “Breathless.”
Listening to people talk in other languages or with accents.
John when he picks up other people’s accents without realizing it.
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