Ten-ish

Another ten-hour trip means another chance to find the good ishes in the world!

Like that nice man who politely steps to the side as you walk into the gas station store, smiling under his sunglasses and nodding as you pass.

Like that view from the mountains near Jacob Lake (misty green carpet nestled under red-rock plateaus) reminding you of that scene in Cars where Lightning and Sally overlook lovely and empty Route 66.

Like having just enough cash--within cents--to fund your lunch so you don't have to use your card.

Like the pretty periwinkles and the sunflowers that dust the roadside.

Like being relieved when the signs proclaim "Phoenix 36" much sooner than you expected them to.

Like two funny little brothers and one awesome dad who spent ten hours driving to Utah a few days ago, just to turn around and drive you back.

I should spend more ten-hourses noticing the good things.

Endings-ish

If there is one good ish about endings, it's that they make you appreciate things more.

I think of the people I know now and it's like, wow. Goodbye. Goodbye to them. Goodbye to this year, when I got to meet them and become a tiny part of their lives (or, rather, they became a part of mine). We have been happy and smiling and grateful and talkative and friendly throughout the year. But the end of the year makes us -er: happi-er, smiling-er, grateful-er, talkative-er, and friendly-er. Because we now see through the lens of the future, we are sad to see the past go. That's the funny thing about endings: you didn't realize how much you didn't want them to happen until they do.

I'm not saying I won't be happy when finals are over--good grief, that's just blasphemy. But I will be sorry to see these my friends and classmates graduate, move schools, move apartment complexes, and join the next part of their life while I join the next part of mine. Separately.

They've made my life good-er, though, and that I'd say is a happy ending indeed.