*I would buy a monkey and teach him to push the GO button on a lighting console so that I could prove that the job of light board operator is, indeed, monkey work.

*I would have a laptop computer installed in my shower, since that’s where I do all my thinking.  I would have a touch screen installed on the long wall, with an optional slide out keyboard.

*I would buy one of those thumb drive amnesiators from Men in Black.  (After hiring someone to invent one, of course.)  That way, when I do something totally ditzy, (like freak out because I think my wallet has been stolen when it actually fell out of my purse and got wedged between the passenger seat and the door of my car,) I don’t have to listen to the guys at work make fun of me for the next two months.

*I would buy out TLC, cancel all those ridiculous ungrateful-brides-act-super-bitchy-to-everyone-in-the-vicinity/my-vagina-is-a-slipn’slide-and-now-I-have-50-kids-I-can’t-afford-to-feed-without-a-TLC-show shows, and make it 24 hours of Property Ladder, Hoarders, and What Not to Wear.  Awesome.

*I would hire two housekeepers; one who’s only job is to deal with laundry and another who’s only job is to deal with the cat box.  And perhaps a third to clean the bathroom, but that’s all.

*I would have the bottom three inches of all our cupboards replaced with a soft, squishy foam, so that every time I slam my head on a cupboard door it will no longer leave a dent in my skull.

*I would hire someone to go to the farmer’s market for me when I can’t go because I have to go to work.  Scratch that, let’s make that someone to go to work for me when I can’t go because I have to go to the farmer’s market.  Maybe I’d just stop going to work.

*I would hire a fashion designer to design me a new work uniform, something a little more feminine, a little more flattering, and make me look a little less like a bulldyke.  (No offense to the bulldykes, it’s just not a very flattering look on me.)

*I would buy you a green dress.  (But not a real green dress, that’s cruel.)

*I would pay NASA to develop a super strong nail polish that not only will never chip, but will make my nails themselves indestructible.  That way, no matter how many hours I have to spend on my knees picking gaff tape off the dance floor, my manicure will survive unharmed.

*I would hire 20 or so people to stand along my running route so that they could yell encouragements like, “Looking good!” and “Finish strong!” and “Almost there, you can do it!” and my personal favorite, “Holy shit!  Your bod is rocking my face!” while I run every morning.

*I would pay a couple for scientists to biochemically engineer cheese fries without any fat or calories, because while sober me gets that cheese fries are off limits, drunk me still can’t figure it out.

So what would you do if you had $1,000,000?

(After buying a house, a pony, and ending world hunger, obviously.  That goes without saying.)

The truth has a funny way of revealing itself.  Sometimes it reaches out and bitch slaps you in the face.  Sometimes it sneaks up on you gradually, a bit at a time.  And sometimes it just sits there, quietly waiting to be discovered.

I was at work a couple days ago, and the night was winding down.  The last bits of the gear were being loaded into the truck, audio equipment was being returned to the shop, and I was charged with mopping the stage.  Not my favorite activity.  No one’s favorite activity.  But today the task was mine, so (begrudgingly) I set at it.

While I was waiting for the mop bucket to fill, I pulled my iPod Touch out of my zip-up’s pocket to continue my current Plants v Zombies battle.  Yeah, I had only 3, maybe 4 minutes before the bucket was full, but this was a really important battle!  I’d accidentally started a level with Zamboni zombies without any jalapeño peppers, I had to know how it ended!

When I turned the screen on, I saw that bumping and reaching in my pocket had brought up the To Do list app.  I haven’t used that app since I got my HTC Incredible almost a year ago, and curiously I read some of the items on the list.  We’d clearly been getting ready to move last time I used the list; task after task, each important things to make sure I accomplished, each followed by a check-mark indicating completion.  But at the top of the list was a single incomplete item:

Write letter to Grandma Dietrich.

I’m not quite sure why I felt that this task warranted a spot on my To Do list.  Maybe I’d just received one of her sweet holiday cards, and wanted to make sure that she knew that they were appreciated.  Maybe I’d just spread one of her beautiful handmade quilts on our bed.  Or maybe I’d just made a peach cobbler using her amazing recipe.  I don’t know.  But for whatever reason, I felt that I needed to write a letter to my grandma, and I felt that it was important enough to add it my to do list.  And yet, as important as this task was, it never got done.

We all have ideas about the way things will go, in our personal lives, in our careers, in our families, in our aspirations.  We all make promises to ourselves, both big and small.  Some happen, and some don’t.  Sometimes these promises are broken consciously due to a change in circumstances or desires, but more often they’re broken simply because they’re forgotten.  As life piles up in our minds, those small promises are pushed further and further back into our minds, until they finally slip away.

I can only imagine how many of my life’s little promises have faded into the recesses of my mind and forgotten forever.  But serendipity fished this one back out, and I won’t let to disappear again.  Grandma, I don’t know if you read this, but if you do, watch your mail box.

There’s a letter coming.

So I’m running through the park the other day.  Because in an attempt to be a little healthier, feel better, and dislike my body a little less, I’ve kicked this whole “healthy lifestyle” that I’ve been pantomiming for the last year into high gear drive, and one facet of that has been to take up running.  Because, I mean, if Preggers City Kim can run with a baby in her belly, surely my lazy not-knocked-up-but-a-little-squishy-nonetheless ass can manage to do the same.  (Or at least half of the same, because we all know that secretly Kim is Superwoman.)

Which is how I find myself running through the park.  And not particularly enjoying myself.  Because sure, the park is gorgeous, and it’s all autumn-y, but it’s also threatening to rain any second.  And it’s much later in the day than I usually run, so I’m a little tired to begin with, and it’s right before dinner, so I’m hungry.  Plus, I’ve been passed at least twice by every member of the Saratoga Springs High School boys and girls cross country team, none of whom appear to be sporting more than 4 or 5% body fat, and many of whom aren’t wearing shirts.  So I’m a little on the grouchy side.  And even though I know in my heart that I’ll finish the run, if only out of stubbornness, I’m definitely hurting physically and mentally.

And then, as I turned the corner out of the woods, I saw this:

Which, if you can’t tell from the pictures, (I don’t blame you,) is a complete double rainbow.  From my path, I could see both ends of both rainbows.  It was absolutely breathtaking.

Numerous other runners were on the same path at the time, (this park is crazy popular for runners and walkers,) and everyone that I came upon stopped for a moment to share our excitement over this beautiful happening.  This is unusual, since most of the time when I cross paths with a runner, there is either no acknowledgement between us or at the most, a smile or nod.  But suddenly, in the presence of this natural beauty, everyone seemed eager to reach out and share this moment.

As I left the rainbows behind and returned to my run, my step felt a little lighter, and suddenly I wasn’t so grouchy anymore.  Seeing such a beautiful gift of nature seemed to fill me with…happy, I guess.  I’m not narcissistic enough to believe that some benevolent force put that double rainbow there just for me to make me happy;  that rainbow would have occurred whether I’d been there to see it or not.  But I do feel very lucky to have chosen that path to run at that time on that day, because at that moment, that rainbow was exactly what I needed.

(Though a monkey holding cupcakes would have done it, too.)