I spent the other weekend hanging in Atlanta with my cousin The Georgia Peach.  Let me just start out by saying: The Peach is awesome. Seriously. And I am kicking myself that we have not spent nearly enough time together as adults. 

Sure I have known The Peach her entire life - mainly because she was born when I was five and oh yeah, we're totally related by blood.  Sure I've always liked her and we typically get our 5 minutes here, 10 minutes there at family functions (where she is always very well-behaved. Me - not so much.). On 2 or 3 occasions, when she was an undergrad at Tulane, I managed to swing through N'awlins where I saw her *wilder* side. But for the most part, especially as adults, our interactions have been limited.

Until now.

Geography and this blog (on which my darling cousin LURKS) have brought us much closer together so when she suggested I come down and visit, I jumped at the chance.

It was all in all an awesome weekend and when we weren't closing down trendy hotel lounges (*ahem*), we spent much of the weekend sitting around her house talking about life, growing older, dating, the Greek economic crisis, men, sex, the environment, being single in an Internet age, existentialism, discount shopping and why eyeshadow is so damn expensive. 

And while The Peach has always been FAB-U-LOUS (assuming you think gorgeous, smart, fun, and funny are a fabulous combo), there was something different about her.  A je ne sais quoi that at first I couldn't put my finger on, but which I ultimately recognized. It was the confident glow of a woman on the cusp of turning 30, knowing that she is amazing and knowing that her life is only getting better.  I had that glow when I turned 30 and I saw it in my cousin.  

AAAANNNDDD....here is where I realize that this post is going COMPLETELY off track. Not that I don't want to talk about how amazing my cousin is. And trust me - she is amazing. But I had a point and I am taking the long ass way around to getting there so excuse this sloppy transition but I really want to watch Bones can't go on any more about glowing lights and self-introspection and self-disocvery and self-help and if I haven't touched on those things then I was going to and so just shut me up now because here it is:

I am trying to be more grateful. For the little things. Really. I am trying to put it all in perspective. Courtesy of The Peach who keeps a journal by her bed and every night before she goes to sleep, she writes down 5 things she was grateful for that day.  And the point is not to be all "Thank you for letting me live another day" and "Thank you for my wonderful family" although I am sure those things are fine on occasion. The point is more about appreciating and being grateful for the little things. Like the time I got a breakfast burrito at Chik-Fil-A and I had to choose between chicken or sausage and I chose chicken but then I bit into my burrito and OMG - it had BOTH chicken and sausage.  Or being grateful for $1.50 drafts on Sundays at the local sports bar. Or having an easy commute during rush hour. Or friends who bring you whiskey and diet ginger ale when you're sick.  The thinking is that no matter how sucktastic a day you are having, there are always 5 things you can be grateful for. 

It seems like a healthy exercise in general. And actually, I believe there might be some scientific evidence that this has some legitimate value. But regardless of the science, I see The Positive impact it's having on my cousin, and I am all about bringing The Positive into my life. So yesterday I grabbed one of the 20 or so empty journals sitting on my bookshelf, and I began the nightly ritual of chronicling my daily graces. That's what I'm calling them. My Daily Graces. Mainly because everyone would have known I'd looked at a thesaurus no one would have know what I was talking about if I'd said My Daily Panegyrics.