Do you consider yourself lucky? How about fortunate? Blessed?

If you use one of those phrases with any frequency, in my opinion you’re doing it right. By “it” I mean, life.

I am the complainingest complainer who ever complained (Hi, Chad!) and as I told a co-worker today, I worry that catastrophe will follow me because it pretty much does. Of course, my catastrophes are not really bad at all. A little West Nile Virus, pneumonia, meningitis, antibiotic-resistant infection, concussion, congenital heart disease, or threat of pulmonary embolism never hurt anyone. Wait.

But, despite my ailments or those of my son, I consider myself to be a fortunate person. I have great relatives, I married into a family of wonderful people, I have terrific friends, decent health, a job and co-workers I love, a great community – I could go on and on.

Do I have bad days? Yes. Every day has me facing something lousy and I DO complain about it. No sleep, sick kids, no money, car repairs, the stuff we all deal with on a day-to-day basis – and “stuff” is putting it lightly. Or non-cussingly, if you will. Maybe venting helps me deal with what life throws at me. Maybe keeping the little things bottled up would make my anxiety worse.

I think crying is therapeutic, I know my workouts are the best thing I’ve ever done for my mental state, and I’m pretty sure complaining helps me think through my issues. Zoloft doesn’t hurt, either.

Even though I have to do all of those things to keep my mind right, I still tell myself how lucky I am Every. Single. Day.

Because I’m pretty sure the greatest way to straighten out your head is to be grateful that you still have one.

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I had a ton of stuff to do this weekend and I didn’t get any of it finished. Not even close.

Not a single load of laundry, no grocery shopping, no vacuuming or dusting. I did help my husband bag some leaves, I put a load of clothes in the washer (but have not yet moved it from there), and I sanded a hand-me-down nightstand for my son’s room – just so you don’t think I’m a complete waste.

Though I didn’t muster the energy to fold towels, I did force myself to celebrate the birthday of a wonderful friend, sit around a firepit, spend a lazy afternoon in bed watching a movie, go to church, see my son jump in a pile of leaves, eat dinner with my mom, go to an arcade with my husband, and spend two hours dropping off bags to collect food for the needy.

Until I thought about it, I felt like nothing had been accomplished over the last couple of days because I didn’t work and I didn’t clean, but life happened. Fun happened. Celebration, faith, volunteering, friends, and family happened.

It turns out I did get a ton done.

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This is Tom.

I realize this photo is blurry, but Tom wouldn’t stay still.

This is also Tom…

…in white jeans, a wig, and faux-fur vest. I have no explanation for this.

Tom has been a friend of ours since our daughters were in kindergarten. He is a father of two, he is obsessed with his meat smoker, he’s Italian, and he’s a pain in my butt. Every time I see him he tells me he “wants to be on my blog.” So, here you go, Tom. You’ve officially made it!

But, this post isn’t just about him; it is a sweeping generalization of what it takes to be, what I consider, a good friend. Tom fits the bill, would you? If so, call me. Also, pick up a pizza on your way over.

1. There must be no pretense. The best thing a person can bring to a friendship is their authentic self. Period.

2. I like a good story-teller and the more humorous the story, the better. No pressure.

3. You should not be easily offended. For instance, if you display any of #1 by telling me about your new car, you should be able to take the teasing I will dish out because you have two kids and two dogs and you bought a two-door car. *cough* Tom. *cough*

4. Beer-drinking is a plus. Throwing parties with the request that each person bring a signature cocktail is a triple plus bonus!

5. You have to be willing to come pick me up on the side of a road in the middle of the night if my car breaks down. Because I would do the same for you. Or your kids, or your grandma. Tom probably wouldn’t do this, but his wife would, so he is awarded #5 by proxy.

6. If my kids are doing something wrong, I expect a good friend to pull them aside and tell them to knock it off…and why. It takes a village, people. It takes a village.

7. You should appreciate a good inside joke. For instance: Tom, the vest was awesome, but you should have worn the bike shorts.

8. Be willing to embarrass yourself for the friendship’s greater good. See above photo for proof.

9. Own pets. Most of my good friends are pet-owners. Only a couple of them have cats, so pretty much just dog-people. Pet owners have good souls and dog-people get bonus points, because duh. Dogs.

10. Understand that I’m a busy woman so writing one blog post about you is doable, but two would be pushing it. Though if there’s more of #4, we’ll talk.

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I just got back from a business trip in Austin, Texas.

I had the immense pleasure of speaking on a professional panel with my wonderful friends and co-workers Denise and Melisa. I totally got my geek on.

As if social media measurement wasn’t enough to get me excited, there were also a lot of margaritas.

And, when I got tired of regular margaritas, there were avocado margaritas.

And, cotton candy.

And good friends.

Photo shamelessly taken from Melisa’s FB wall.

And kids of friends.

And 20 minutes of me trying to figure out how to take a picture in my new, awesomely soft, Home T shirt without making Ohio come out backward. I blame the margaritas.

The Home. T sent me this shirt to wear to the American Dairy Association Mideast and Ohio Poultry Association party. Ohio REPRESENT! But, I wore it the night before because I could. Not. Wait.

And, there was heat. Lots of it. So there was also a lot of time spent in front of fans. Luckily, I look like a model and the wind just enhanced it.

There were also the heartwarming and soul-filling stories told by food bloggers, a lot of guacamole, engaging sponsors, and a chance to work in the same room with my co-workers who all live on the other side of the country. It was an exhausting, cankle-creating few days, but worth every bit of work we put into it.

I can’t wait for 2014.

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