I Like Things That Are Nice

Panic is my default state. I'm trying to hit the reset button on that, but until I do, I'm learning to embrace and just GO WITH the things I find soothing, operating on my psychiatrist's admonishion to do anything that makes me feel better, so long as it's not destructive. And so I take showers in the dark and build tents in my apartment and sleep with a security blanket every single night and make complicated sandwiches and always remember to keep the fridge stocked with Caffeine-Free Coke and pineapple.

Sidebar(car): As I typed that, I realized I'm out of pineapple. Then I realized two in the morning is probably too late to go out for more. Then I realized I was awake at two in the morning, and why hadn't my sleeping pills kicked in? And then I realized I hadn't taken them yet. Cause and effect!

I sold my turntable so I could see musicals when I was in New York (it was all very "Gift of the Magi"), and one of the records I miss listening to most is the original Broadway cast recording of Peter Pan. We didn't own many movies growing up, and the majority we did own were taped from television. One of them was NBC's version of the Broadway show -- it didn't so much resemble a movie as it did a videotape of a really, really good high school play. I watched it over and over as a child, adored that the kids I nannied for three years were obsessed with Hook and pirates, and read my copy of the Baby-Sitters Club book about putting on the show until it fell apart.

ANYWAY.

Towards the end of the musical, Peter remembers a lullaby his mother used to sing to him and sings it for the lost boys and Wendy. I've been watching the video of it on youtube over and over again (you can actually watch the entire musical on there, if you don't want me to come over with my VHS copy so we can watch it and make popcorn which I think would be really fun but, you know, WHATEVER). I literally realized JUST NOW that I could, say, buy the song on iTunes or buy the cd, and I'm probably going to do just that when I wake up, but for now, here's the song, a minute and thirty-seven seconds of comfort, of something good.