Friday, August 18, 2006
(7:43 AM) | Tara Smith:
Friday Afternoon Confessional: Instant Pleasure
I confess to experiencing untempered pleasure at a well-loaded dishwasher. When the plates line up exactly right; when the large spoons are all in the same section of the silverware holder and the small spoons are all in an adjacent section (knives always--ALWAYS--in the furthest away or hardest to reach section); when the same style and size of cups parade along the top rack in unison.... ahhhh! Obviously, the magic doesn't happen every time (particularly not when one loads the dishwasher over the period of several days: it's just unreasonable to plan that far in advance). But when you have the leisure and the inclination to load a full sink right, really right, well... you just know. You just know.Deviant pleasure confessions are good ones, so here are some more. I confess to taking pleasure in the following:
- When my view from the passenger's seat allows the windshield wipers to appear to hit in exact intervals between the yellow dotted lines of the road.
- When a person's phone number makes sense. Here's an example: 624-6222. That one is perfect, obviously, which almost never happens, but usually I can make do with less.
- The same phenomenon described above, only with license plates.
- Being mentioned.
- When not ending a sentence with a preposition still sounds natural.
And that's about it.
Hey, let's make this an all-pleasure edition: what are your guilty pleasures?
