I feel strange.
I’m in a good mood.
Just an hour ago, migraine I was walking around Westwood to one of my favorite restaurants in the village, apoplectic Mr. Noodle. I ordered chow mein and thai iced tea. While I waited for my food to be ready, click I flipped through the latest issue of Wired and contemplated picking up some cookies at Diddy Riese next door. I nixed the idea when I realized that most of the people in my office are sick of sweets after having leftover deserts from a bunch of end of the year events.
I returned in my car to find my favorite song, “Las Flores” by Café Tacuba, playing. I forgot how much listening to Re (1994) made me happy. I began to get excited for their July 15th Hollywood Bowl concert and new album.
My day hasn’t been particularly special, I haven’t received any great news or accomplished anything spectacular. It’s actually pretty average, and yet I feel really good.
I feel happy.
I guess it feels weird, because I’ve been pretty unhappy lately. And those things are still lingering. My relationship is over; I didn’t get appointed to a position I wanted; I have tons of work to do in the next two weeks and little motivation to complete it. Despite that stuff, it’s not really bugging me. At least not today or right now.
I can just as easily think of all the things that have made me happy lately like celebrating my friend Greg’s 21st birthday (yeah, sometimes I hang out with the undergrads), my cousin Valerie and tía Josie’s co-birthday party in which we camped out in their backyard, my family’s upcoming trip to Cancún, briefly chatting with Chispa on Saturday at the Raza Youth Conference, The Office season 3, Jill Scott and Lupe Fiasco at UCLA’s JazzReggae Festival, Oiyan giving me props last night at my final Graduate Students Association Forum meeting as VP of External Affairs, and karaoke with some cool new friends.
Right now, I feel good. I feel optimistic.
Why is it so strange?