Being right. When it rains. Summertime. Especially, summertime in New York City. Laughing. Singing alone and believing I sound good. Sleeping. Watching TV. Writing. Especially, writing (good) poems and personal essays. Telling jokes/making other people laugh. Cooking, but only when it’s fancy and/or tastes really good. Writing lists. Having a good cry. Traveling. Driving through L.A./on the freeway late at night. Getting all dolled up, but only sometimes. My natural, curly hair. My great-grandmother’s wedding ring. My (deceased) cat, Sparkle. Forcing my mom to cuddle with me when I’m lonely. Sitting in my car before going into the house, so I can decompress from the outside world and not bring that energy into my home. Getting my eyebrows waxed/plucked. Getting a facial. Getting a manicure/pedicure. Not having a full-time job. Teaching. Working with young people. Performing, but not necessarily acting. My father’s BBQ. My stepmom’s mashed potatoes and mac-n-cheese. My mom’s fried fish, fried chicken, and gumbo. Shopping at bougie-ass grocery stores like Sprout’s, Whole Foods, and Trader Joe’s. People watching. Sitting in an airport, waiting to go somewhere. Making lists. My grandmother’s laugh. My friends and family, but that should go without saying. Growing up and getting wiser, but also realizing how much I don’t know shit about shit. Writing people e-mails/letters. A well-crafted text/tweet/Facebook status. Reading. Making fun on people. Giving critiques. That feeling after you workout when you’re like, “Oh, damn, I just did all that with my body?” When my skin is completely clear of acne. Daydreaming. A really good glass of wine. French fries, ice cream, and soup. Eating at restaurants. Living in big cities. Going to the beach and putting my feet in the water. Drawing. Being financially independent. Being my parents’ daughter. Eating a really good meal alone. When my room is clean and all my laundry is put away.