Due to the events of last weekend, I made it a goal for myself to minimize solo time as much as possible. I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts, unless I was using them to power a run (I do my best running when I’m angry), nor did I want to spend the first weekend of summer crying in my apartment. So, bank account, liver damage, and exhaustion be damned, I set out to create a nearly perfect weekend in New York – something I dubbed “Operation Happy Place” in my mind.
And you know what? I succeeded with flying colors. I succeeded so much, in fact, that I have sunk back into a state of minor depression today. Work is annoying. The weather got really hot. I didn’t have anyone to snuggle up to when I laid in bed wide awake for half of the night. There’s no one in my real life who possesses Jeremy Renner’s arms.
Of course, very few people in the world have Jeremy Renner’s arms, but I digress.
I tried to bottle up the good feeling I had for most of the weekend and keep it in mind when I’m feeling low – so I can remind myself that my life actually is pretty good, that good people exist, that this city doesn’t constantly beat me down (only sometimes), and that I don’t need a man.
That last one was key this weekend. I don’t need anyone in my life. But what kills me is when I want someone in my life.
But I digress again. Instead, let’s look at my recipe for an awesome weekend. Operation Happy Place, after all, is a yearlong project.
Take one part gorgeous weather.
I hate summer. What I do love, though, are those precious few days when it just begins, when barely hits 80 and still cools down in the evening, and that’s just what we had here in New York for most of the weekend.
Add cocktails. A lot of them.
I joked that my only plans for the weekend were to drink, and I wasn’t entirely wrong. Alcohol is fun, guys. Well-made cocktails are delicious and they make me happy.
Add food. Lots of it, too.
Most of it terrible for you, but oh so delicious. Shake Shack burgers, Shake Shack breakfast, cheesesteaks, fries, frozen yogurt, Corner Bistro… I indulged in gluttony this weekend and I am so not sorry.
Mix with good friends.
This is essential for anything in life, obviously.
Top with a healthy dose of really, really attractive men.
Ok, let’s talk about The Avengers, which really should have been subtitled Age of Biceps instead of Age of Ultron. I would have paid full price to watch two and a half hours of just Jeremy Renner shooting arrows and Chris Evans chopping firewood. [Side note: I didn’t get the Chris Evans appeal for a long time. That evaporated in the first 30 minutes of the movie because he suddenly wasn’t terribly stoic and boring anymore and also his biceps must have been too covered up in the first movie to make me notice. (Further side note: I have never seen the Captain America movies. That will likely change soon because biceps.)]
But Renner, you guys. I loved him so much in this movie.
If I were to rank the things I love about Renner in general, it would go:
- Propensity for wearing leather.
- Dorky humor.
- Shooting things.
- The fact that he has a successful house flipping business on the side.
- The fact that he sings, pretty damn well, and that hardly anyone knows that.
My man got to actually do things in this movie. He hit 5/6 of that list. He actually had a plot. He was funny. He was heroic. He was sexy as hell. And if you disagree, I don’t care, because that’s more for me. 😉
Operation Happy Place almost always ends with hot men, even if they’re just on screen. It works. File away that recipe for a rainy day; I know I will.