A Sunday Kind of Life

I've been thinking about leading a Sunday kind of life for years. The seed was planted during the luxurious months I spent in London during the spring of 2007. I felt the call of the Sunday life again when I lived in a friend's condo by myself for three months. It's the kind of apartment that dreams are made of. The kind of euphoria-inducing apartment that fools you into thinking you can afford to throw cocktail parties every week, and makes you want to lie in bed soaking up the rays all day on the weekends. And then I had to move out, and my Sunday kind of life became a distant concept, something I would do again when I had time and money, achievable only in my dream 30-something life.

Ten months after leaving my friend's lovely condo, I am taking a careful look at my life. I was describing this concept of a Sunday kind of life to a friend the other day, and I noted that it's something that I would like to achieve in the next ten years. She asked me why I couldn't live this life now, and I couldn't think of a decent answer that wouldn't elicit a scoff from her. So here I am, determined to turn my 23 year old life into a lovely Sunday life. And you're here to hold me to it, to make sure I don't put it off for another year, five years, ten years. I've fortuitously (okay, intentionally) timed this so my plan kicks into action just as spring comes along. It's the most hopeful and idyllic season in Boston, the perfect setting for a Sunday kind of life.

Now, the only hitch in my plan is that I work for a nonprofit (which I adore) and don't have the time or bottomless trust fund to live the Sunday kind of life that I see in movies like "An Education." In real life, people have jobs and bills and responsibilities, but that shouldn't impede us from living our lives. I've decided that I can make this work with my 23 year old's limited resources and I will figure out how to feel indulged and content. It's a matter of small luxuries -- going to a fancy restaurant and getting an appetizer, or allowing myself to wander the floors of Anthropologie soaking up all the pretty things and taking away that pleasant feeling without actually spending a time.

Before I lose you completely, I suppose I should explain. What is this Sunday kind of life, you ask? It's a lovely life. It's really an attitude -- a certain joie de vivre -- more than anything tangible. Long city walks, interrupted by respites at scrumptious and cozy brunch places, lounging in the sunshine, record store perusal, and devouring novels about life in foreign countries or cooking. You know what I'm talking about. It's the kind of life and activities that simply make you say, "ahh" and inspire you to pepper your conversations with des mots de francais. It evokes the kind of emotion you feel while walking down the shores of la Seine, passing adorable families with children in berets, and listening to the crooning of a musician with his accordion.

The soundtrack looks something like this:

"An Education" film soundtrack

Preservation Hall Jazz Benefit Album

The Rat Pack

The National

Noah and the Whale

Sam Cooke

Otis Redding

If you're not sure where to begin, here's a quick fix: you can start by sipping an iced chai while sitting on a park bench, face uplifted toward the sun every few pages. Put on some jazz, and you'll begin to feel that irresistible urge to have a Sunday kind of life.

This idea of a Sunday kind of life is, of course, inspired by the song "A Sunday Kind of Love," which really epitomizes the whole concept. Of course, a Sunday kind of life is even more delectable if you have a Sunday kind of love to accompany it. I don't have the "love" part of it right now, but I have mastered the complementary aspect of it, learning to enjoy your own company. While friendships and love are requisite elements of this lifestyle,I've always thought it's important to value the time by yourself. I love meandering the streets of Cambridge by myself, or curling up with my bookgroup book and a ginger liqueur cocktail. This is a vital part of living a Sunday kind of life, because the whole concept is that you're living a lovely life. It's just for you. It's about allowing yourself to indulge in small luxuries and appreciating the beauty in everyday scenes. It's about knowing how and when to switch off all the technology (yes, I said it...turn off your phone, TV and computer!). I know that's terrifying, believe me. I was right there with you, freaking out, when Gmail was down a few months ago. But I find it much easier to get to that fulfilling state where I'm content when the technology is totally out of the picture. Just for the sake of complete honesty, my ipod is allowed to accompany me to my happy place, because it provides the jazz and quiet music as the soundtrack.

On that note, it's time for me to sign off and actually heed my own advice. Time to curl up with Alice in Wonderland (bookgroup, of course) and my ginger liqueur cocktail.