I did not realize

That it's been this long since an update.

But over the past several months, I've noticed hearts. On telephone poles.

They're roughly the size of a piece of bread and tacked up, seemingly at random, around Atlanta. Sometimes I zoom past them, and sometimes I inch closer to them as I'm stuck in traffic.

They make me smile every time I notice a new one. So I'm sharing with you.

It's a good day

When I get an email that begins "Dear Depraved Sickos."

(But no, for real. I laughed out loud.)

Abstract Sunday

Hi, Internet.

I make no promises that I will visit with more frequency, though lots of people will be looking for more things that make them happy in the coming weeks and months.

I'm happy to share with you something that pleased and amazed me today, though, as I'm sitting in the office the day before Thanksgiving, waiting for my phone to ring.

I've long been a fan of the artist Christoph Niemann, who I first discovered through his NYT columns. He hasn't published them in a while. But I stumbled across him today somewhere else, and it led me to his Twitter feed, and man, is it a delight.

Click through to see some amazing illustrations, as well as interviews and other fun things. It made me smile. I hope it brings you joy, too.

The left wing of a goose

The Olympics always manage to capture my imagination. I can't help but be fascinated and amazed by the work, the drive, the effort that goes into getting to the games -- regardless of the outcomes.

And while I've been fast-forwarding through a lot of the pre-packaged video pieces, I've been reading a fair bit about the games. (Let's be honest -- I've always liked reading more.) In doing so, I came across this gem related to the creation of badminton shuttlecocks that I just need to share with you:

The shuttles themselves are intricate creations. Yonex orders thousands of goose feathers a year from China. The feathers are then trimmed to size and matched by color, flexibility and other factors. Only feathers from the left wings of geese are used in the tournament shuttles. Satoshi Yuza, a promotion manager at Yonex, chalked that up to aerodynamics.

Can you imagine? Only the feathers from the left wing of a goose go into competition-level shuttlecocks. What a weird, beautiful thing.

Keys

Do you see this?

This is a tiny piece of paradise.

I spent the early part of the week in the Florida Keys on the invitation of a friend who I love to pieces, and hadn't seen in too many years. Being there made me smile, of course -- I mean, that was the back porch. Look. It's gorgeous. -- but it was the invitation that made me happiest. It's so nice to know that connections are kept, through distance and time.

We swam, and swam, and swam. We talked. We explored. We ate delicious things. And, I like to think, we refueled a friendship that I hope will last a long, long time.

Also, she shared this with me.

That's a book recommendation by Judy Blume. Who owns the bookstore. That we were standing in. (I've read the book and loved it. Judy and I are essentially BFFs now.)

We missed seeing her there, but being in her space was pretty awesome, too.

Downtown perks

My office is in the 'burbs, and though they're densely populated 'burbs, they're not very walkable. And while there are some things that can lead to grins in suburbia, you'll notice that I was a much more prolific writer when I was working downtown. (Albeit in another state.)

So a change in job duties has led me to spend more time downtown. And that's led to a couple things that I want to share with you.

First, taking public transportation to work means more time with books. And more time with books always makes me happy.

Second, I saw someone rolling a Coke machine down the street on a dolly yesterday. Just pause for a minute and imagine a vending machine walking down the road. It's a beautiful thing.

Third, I ran into two people I know on the street last week -- both in the same day, at that. One was a new friend who was also working downtown, and we'll hopefully grow closer and see each other more after running into each other. The other is my future sister in law, who was downtown to get license plates for her car.

Unless you work in the same building as someone, you're just less likely to run into them on the street in suburbia.

Today, 10:30 a.m.

A white-haired man driving by in a red convertible, top down, the seat next to him covered in a bouquet of bright flowers.

It was a weird day

And it ended with an email from an FBI agent that read, simply:

:)

Books, books, books (and a bonus)

A post in three parts (and a bonus):

Today -- for the fourth time in recent memory, which is indeed a dangerous thing -- I stumbled upon Bag Day at my local library. This means that you can fill a grocery bag full of for-sale books for super cheap. In today's case, I spent $12 on two paper bags full of books. Luckily (because my shelf space is severely limited), I intend to give some of them away. I also came out with the John Green book I went in for, which was the original purpose of the library visit.

In the free book bin, I found a book of poems by Billy Collins. I was lucky enough to see him converse with Paul Simon last year, and I really loved the poems he read then. But I haven't sought out any others, despite intent. When I picked up the book, the co-worker who put it there saw my face. "It's gone to the right place," she said.

I got in the mail a book I lent out maybe two years ago. I'd forgotten just how beautiful it is. You should definitely read it. And now I have my copy back to lend again.

And! What else should come in the mail but a blue canary! For putting in the outlet by the light switch! (It's already there.) It was totally unexpected and I am super stoked!

Landline

I come to you after months of delinquency because I wanted to jump up and down with excitement at work today, and no one there understood my joy.

There's this super, fantastic, wonderful author (Rainbow Rowell) who I want to be when I grow up, and whose books I adore. (I've read two.)

We have a free book bin at work, and her latest -- which isn't in stores til July 8 -- was there. I snagged it. And now it is mine.

I'm super thrilled. So is my sister, who has devoured the two I've read and will be taking this one from me as soon as she can get her hands on it.

In today's news

I'm eating a delicious golden apple that I picked myself. It's crisp and flavorful and subtle and yum. There are new shoes on my feet, I'm almost done transcribing an interview I feel as if I've been typing forever, and there was the odd sight this morning of people standing on the roof of my office building.

Plus, there's snow in Cleveland. I'm not there, but I'm living vicariously through people's Facebook pictures -- with the added bonus that I don't have to drive in it!

Of people and ice cream

I've been absent for a while, but meaning to return. Today, a few things convinced me that it was time for a post.

Driving into work this morning, I saw a well-dressed man walking on a wall, instead of the sidewalk next to it. He hopped up like a little kid. It was grand.

At the office, a co-worker who I don't know very well rushed over to me excited. She'd overheard a conversation I had yesterday about the opening of Jeni's ice cream here. And what should arrive in the office, but six pints in dry ice?

It's delicious and amazing and wonderful and a little taste of home, of course. But it's the thought, too. And Jeni's opens tomorrow, so now I can go any time I need a fix.

And speaking of fixes, in another sense: I've been reminded in recent weeks and months that I know some really wonderful people. I really have been valuing the time I get to spend with them, and wishing I was closer to -- and therefore got more time with -- others of them. So thanks, people. It means a lot.

I hope they did this on purpose

Kansas and Toto are touring together.

You're welcome.

High places

A former governor just told me he's looking forward to reading my story.

And that's pretty cool.

In touch

I still have a number to get through (some of them to some of you, dear readers), but I replied to several emails this weekend that I've been putting off because I wanted to give them the time and attention they deserved. Aside from the simple sense of accomplishment that one gets from hitting "send" and moving a message out of the inbox, it makes me happy that even through questionable timely response skills, I'm able to keep in touch with people who are meaningful to me, and who are far away (or sometimes close).

And also, work compliments. Being told you're doing well never gets old.

Feb. 14

I brought these to work last week, and gave them away to co-workers and friends. More than the Valentines (which are so cute!), I loved the box they came in. No batteries required! Paper-folding action!

Just wanted to send my love to those of you I couldn't hand a Valentine to, too.

Stay (I Missed You)

I have fond memories of a concert in college where Lisa Loeb played with Dweezil Zappa, and I'm pretty sure I can still sing all the words to Stay (I Missed You). Today, I saw that Lisa Loeb is coming back to town, so I sent an e-mail to one of the friends I went to the show with to see if she might want to recreate our evening.

She replied enthusiastically, which is awesome. Even more awesome? The second person I emailed -- who was at the concert with us (even though I didn't remember that she was there) emailed another friend, who now lives in Texas. I haven't seen this friend in nearly three years -- since her wedding -- but she's going to fly in for a visit and the show. And I'm thrilled to get to spend some time with her, and with this group of people.

Lisa Loeb: bringing friends together.

Because it's time

I've been meaning to write something for a while, but work and life and general bumminess have meant that instead, I haven't taken the time to pull out the marvelous and share it with you.

But it's the last day of January. And I got an email from a friend -- one who means a lot to me, and one whom I always mean to talk to more than I do -- imploring me to update more often. She's right.

I still don't have a lot of time or energy tonight (so that e-mail I've owed for several months -- and the newest one -- will be yet delayed).

But I can share this, from a trip I took earlier this month to a land of snow. It was a friend's first snowman and (hopefully to the delight of the aforementioned friend who wants me to update more often), his name is Nigel.

Enjoy him. We did.

Today so far

This morning, here's what made me smile:

On the radio: "It is Friday. That's when we bust out the Tom Jones."

From the corner of my eye, I saw what I thought was a zebra on my morning commute. Atlanta has a history of zebras, so while surprising, this wouldn't have been unusual -- well, less unusual than a mountain lion. Turns out it was a Hummer painted like a zebra. Which was still pretty great.

And then, a middle-aged man riding a bicycle with a basket, wearing a reflective crossing-guard vest.

(As an added bonus, there was also a man on the sidewalk in a bright pink leg cast. I felt a little bit bad for the cast itself, but love that he chose bright pink.)

Memories

It's Nov. 1, which means everyone who didn't want to keep their Halloween candy has kindly brought it into the office for the rest of us to eat.

This is a strange leap, perhaps, from Halloween, but the candy on the table -- a lone packet of SweeTarts, in the midst of Tootsie Rolls and Tootsie Pops -- has made me nostalgic. In fact, I always get nostalgic when I eat SweeTarts.

When I was in high school, one of my best friends would always buy a long roll of the sugary, colorful candy. They would get passed around orchestra, and we'd put down our bows to pop SweeTarts onto our stands and into our mouths. I don't know that it was ever codified that SweeTarts would arrive on a daily basis in orchestra, but they always did -- even on concert nights, when we were all dressed in skirts and suit pants, and we needed to be much more subtle as we passed the candy around.

I always liked SweeTarts.

I stopped eating them, though, my sophomore year of high school. My friend -- his name is Josh -- was diagnosed with cancer. He died that same week.

I know this is a blog about things that make me smile, and that doesn't sound like something very happy at all. And it isn't. But here's what is: whenever I see SweeTarts I think of Josh. I have to eat them in his memory. I smile as I reminisce about him passing them around orchestra. The candy makes me think of throwing snowballs at stop signs while we waited for the bus, or of movie nights in his basement. It makes me recall his big smile and his infectious laugh and the first time someone called me and launched into conversation without first identifying who was talking. SweeTarts were hard for me to eat for a long time. But now they bring back good memories.

So I'm sitting at my desk, popping SweeTarts, and thinking of Josh. And the fact that so many years later, this little candy can bring back such vivid memories of a person who meant so much to me really does make me smile.