Cheers: The smell of this pork roast that is cooking in my (own special) oven right this diddly-doodly second. You will be mine, soon, my darling, my herb-encrusted darling.

Jeers: The guilty ache in my stomach after tossing out a plant that was still alive but not looking so hot. Into the empty container went a younger, prettier, more acceptable-looking plant and I just feel like an asshole.

Cheers: I shall do a metaphoric contort and pat myself on the back for the impressive amount of work I have done in the last few months getting my home reorganized. I often can only see the work that has yet to be done, but right this second: hooray for the hambox!

Jeers: Trident Gum, with your attractive packaging and delicious “Original” flavor, and your attractive package’s idiotic inability to stay shut and your gum, dumping and unwrapping in my purse and your coating of everything in my purse with a sticky, sickly fragrant noisome-ness. And to me, not remembering that the same damn thing happened last fall.

Cheers: To all my friends doing such great, brave, creative, strong, dazzling things. This means you. There’s a reason I let you into my clubhouse.

Jeers: To DVRs that work (suddenly opening your world to the magic that is live-record), then breaking just as suddenly. To customer service, who keep you on the phone for an “estimated hold-time of 2 minutes” that stretches into 35 — then, at 5pm on the spot, hanging up on you after curtly announcing they’re closed.

Cheers: To the little girl-dog named Rocko who still bears the physical scars of her puppyhood abuse but is the nicest pooch in the world and keeps the sweet elderly lady who adopted her young and happy and running RUNNING on long, bouncy walks.

Jeers: To the broken water main, which made me experience coffee made with flat seltzer (bad) and a whore’s bath with Perrier (decadent AND bad)

Cheers: To life, to life, l’chaim!

Closed, happy, sad, happy, sad, happy, sad by samgrover. Thanks for letting me use it!