The facts are these: there are things in my life that keep it all rolling along, keep the sanity of Caitlin Cotten in tact, keeps the MEOW at bay and breaks the monotony that can be the endless round of physical science studying and health lecture readings.
One would be watching TV via Mac Jacobs (from whom I am writing this). Who thought of it? I could hug them, kiss them on the cheek and then take them to Legends for onion rings, a burger and some Creamery chocolate milk (oh the sweet abrogia of the Gods . . .here at BYU). Especially ABC, those folks really planned with the college student (more specifically me) in mind. Every Tuesday we watch Bachelor (which I do for a giggle) and every Thursday (which could possibly be my favorite night of the week) we watch Pushing Daisies. I actually have no words. . . except: PRECIOUSNESS!!! Everything about it is precious and clever and witty and darling and perfect. I love it so much. Ned (the main guy, who can bring things back to life with his touch) is the very definition of adorable, and so is Chuck (the girl he brought back to life) and Ned's sidekick and Olive and everyone!! I love all the characters. And the costuming and the setting and the writing . . . .oh my goodness. This last week I could hardly stand how fun and wonderful it was. My perfect show . . .basically the antithesis of House, except they are both loved by me and they both make me think about what's going on and what is going to happen next? And here's another thing that would endear anyone to Pushing Daisies, the reader for the Harry Potter books also narrates the show. So there, a dear friend every Potter fan knows and loves.
Next thing would be gym time (oh the rowing machine turns jenky MEOW into holy wow!), then Target/grocery shopping time (it's so sad that the cracker aisle sends someone into a frenzy of solitary and singular joy) and then new magazines. It's a well known fact that I (like all the women in my immediate family) am a graphiholic and can't get me enough of the magazine racks at Target . . .and don't even get me started on Barns and Noble . . .I almost have a siezure from the dancing plethora of beautiful new reading material of it. Oh and packages, packages are the bits of home that I long for all the time. I love the postman, I love the US postal service and I love me a flat rate box that says: 'Caitlin Cotten, this is a container stuffed with all the joy, happiness, bliss and being taken care of you can fit, for one constant and consistant low price.' And of course this dear little secret note . . .which will be written on more now, because I understand how to go about life . . . whereas I wasn't entirely sure of it before.