There are very few things I will wake up for at 3:00 in the shucky-darn-ding-dong morning. I almost missed one of them today when Anthony's phone alarm went off...all I could think was how unfair it was to have slept only two hours thus far...but I shrugged on a huge sweater and wrapped my hair in a silk scarf and we were off on our early morning drive to Malibu. I had never seen a meteor shower. After seeing that first bright streak across the sky, the leavings of some distant comet, I was breathless with joy: nothing quite like the sight. It dwarfs you, stuns and lulls you. I saw at least seven: this was a rare and sparse storm.
We watched for an hour and some change and drove home at 5:30 A.M. to reconnect with our still-warm bed. I am groggy and filled with cupcake ( Sprinkles has been ousted: there is a new cupcake sheriff in town that answers to "Yummy Cupcakes". Sorry Beverly Hills, I know you're hurtin' for commerce ;) ) and the renewed realization that life is sweet and wonder is still abundant at nearly thirty. I'll read this and laugh when I'm eighty and still surprised by life's Cracker Jack prizes. If there is word of a meteor shower near you, don't grumble -- nay! -- LEAP from your bed at the appointed hour and rush to the car. I promise it will recharge you in every way :)
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