Yesterday was cold and blustery and, apparently, the most depressing day in January.

However, I didn’t care too much because not only did Mr. B stick around  a little longer this weekend, but since both me and my mom had off work, she came to Philly to visit me and we went with Mr. B’s mom and my aunt to Center City Philly.

And what I learned is that it doesn’t always matter where you are (ahem, D.C.). It’s usually who you’re with that does.

We first went to the Art Museum, which I’ve been to a million times. But, it was still nice to get some culture.  I’ve been culture-deprived since November.  I wonder if I have scurvy.

I don’t know why, but watching my mom look at art makes me really happy.

I think because it makes her really happy.

What I also found out was that we need go back to the 1700s because back then normal-looking women were considered beautiful. I mean, look at Europa on Zeus as a bull. Girl is at LEAST a size 12 and lookin’ good.  Did togas have sizes?

After the museum, we went to Max Brenner for lunch. Max Brenner is one of my favorite restaurants in Israel, and I was really excited to find out that they had a location in Philadelphia.

It’s pretty sweet, literally, because the place is built to resemble a chocolate factory and they specialize in deserts, but the food is really good and the portions aren’t huge.  Again, the best part wasn’t eating good food, but taking my mom, Mr. B’s mom, and my aunt to a restaurant they’d never been to before and were really excited to discover.  And sitting, talking, eating, and laughing.

Then, afterwards, we went to visit my grandfather. During the visit, he told us that he wanted us to provide him with a checklist of all the things he needed to do to go to heaven. Then I think he told a Stalin anecdote. He always tells a Stalin anecdote.

The whole day, I was experiencing the “happiness” that psychologists always talk about but seems unattainable because we are all constantly stressed out. Happiness that came from the fact that I could drive while the women in my life relaxed and gossiped.  Happiness that they derived happiness from the museum and that they loved the restaurant.  Happiness that I was spending time with them.

It seems from personal development blogs that there are a million ways we can be happier: repriorotize our time, lose weight, learn to cook like a chef, go to a spa, buy a new dress, take pills.

Sometimes it’s a lot simpler than that.