five good things

(New York minutes.)

1. Sitting on a sunny patio at Lavender Lake with my beautiful sister and her handsome boyfriend, drinking rose and feeling perfectly happy.

2. The moment two-thirds of the way through The King and I when Ken Watanabe puts his hand on Kelli O’Hara’s waist and they dance the shit out of it and it’s huge and joyful and weirdly sexy and all the old people at Lincoln Center clap and so do I.

3. Holding Baby Bea for the first time and how she’s tiny but not unpleasantly tiny and how her clothes are just fabulous, and also how one of my best friends, like, made her.

4. Reading the entirety of Rainbow Rowell’s Landline on various subway trips over the course of four days, on the way to breakfast with my mom and to the Alloy offices and Grand Central and my sister at school, all these magic snatches of love story in between.

5. I went to dinner with my husband and my editors on Tuesday, on the day my second book came out, after my event in New York City that was full of people I love. I don’t even know which part of that sentence is the most unbelievable part. Typing it out made me cry. I am so ferociously lucky. I am luckier than anyone should be.

Bonus number six, because this was a very good week: on the 5 train, when a man dressed all in white punched me really hard in the arm to get my attention, then stood up and gave me his seat. It was an absurd moment. I took the seat and said thanks.