I told my friend who is into terminal lucidity and dreaming about the dream. He said the reason I don’t know what to say a lot is that sometimes a beautiful lie is better than a terrible truth.
And I really thought about that. Maybe some of the things I needed to hear the most were beautiful lies, but if I really needed them then I’m glad somebody knew how to lie to me just right. And I’ll never be able to return that favor. Like for my mom.
Yesterday, I went and grabbed Sunshine again. She’s feeling a little better, starting our dickbutter biz and she’s got a recruiter now for travel gigs – seeing freedom as an opportunity, a little, not just lonely. But she’s still a hard sell. She’s all about wanting a boyfriend. I read to her stats from my phone – 47% of Americans live without a significant other, 50% of single people are not dating/looking, 61% of people under 30 never plan to partner – it’s not like being alone is ABNORMAL so why you want a dude so bad right now? A best friend to hang out with and eat meals with, she says. What are you doing right now with your best friend? “Okay but I want to have sex like 3 times a day,” she whispers. We are in a tiny breakfast café for this conversation. I say in a normal voice, Ya know there are sex toys for that and they don’t make you sleep in the wet spot. A few women, all sitting with their dudes, chuckle. “It’s not the same!,” she hiss-whispers. Regular voice again, I absolutely agree but a vibrator isn’t going to give you a concussion either unless you get *really* creative with that motherfucker. More chuckling, a few dirty looks. You need a dog. A man is a person, you can’t just crate em (more chuckling). Finally Sunny has to laugh, even though mentioning the concussion that put her in the hospital for several days is a BIG sore spot.
I can sometimes do that. I can spin a terrible truth into a joke.
Then we went and got her a dogwood tree for her front yard because both our fathers died last year and helped provide us SHELTER in the way they did it. Men are good. My son is a god damn prince. We know a ton of wonderful guys. And our dads did their best by us, really thought about *how to do that* at the end of their lives. Why mope for a man you haven’t even met yet before you honor the ones you already have and have had in your life? (And take the travel gig in Hawaii, I’ll visit.)
I bought two Christmas-smelling pines because this is Vegas, leaning in.
He thinks my family hate him, and they do not, and these are some of the reasons why, is my point - because I am who I am relentlessly. Ears and I were cracking up one night thinking back on how BAD I WAS at dealing with unhappiness, his or any of theirs, and I STILL AM! If he wasn’t happy every fucking second I BECAME HYSTERICAL, what was the poor fucker supposed to do with that? My bad 🤷🏻♀️ Ears is so adorable the way he snickered at that. TJ is just like, remember when you looked up “empathy” and were upset that there weren’t concrete chores in the definition? And I’m still almost as bad, like “UPSET?!, let’s plant a tree!!”
It’s a lack of imagination completely. I just can’t imagine how to make anyone feel better except by doing the things that I do when I myself have been unwell, and which keep me well if I keep doing them. Steeeeeaaady, girl – as if I am my own ornery spooked horse.
It would have neeeeeeever occurred to me to want a rolex, ie to be a person who inspires that, however that happens. It’s just not in me, whatever that is.
And yet. Emotional bonds like the one I have to him are tethered down to the center of the earth right through me some kinda how. I can’t tell if the other person wants that or feels like a tetherball. Maybe both? It feels molten at the bottom, to me.
Ok so,
dunno lol. I mean, we have been on this brink of the Maybe We Could Something thing like um a lot of times now. I’m actually laughing as I write this, but uhhm this last year’s experience suggests that I know I’m in a relationship with him if I never ever see him because he’s married hahahahahha which has happened sooooo much omg, even the last time I remember totally like I’m letting this go I can’t love this dude no more with the whole gotta give it a year thing going on into the fall and I remember as soon as I really felt that way, taking a walk around my little village, feeling like living is nice in itself I enjoy it so I’m okay and I’ll just stop thinking about him -- like that song this morning that’s exactly where my head was at -- then he’s like “hold up!…”
Was that the same year I blew the Kurt Cobainolantern’s brains all over the front door?
Anyway. Uhh, we gotta work on that as a pattern, maybe? Every single time Bug runs the jukebox (in the car from my phone), she’s in charge of the SOUNDTRACK OF LIFE CURRENTLY, like a way to communicate from her perspective, and she plays that hot/cold song at me. Always. Until I know every word and am yup howling along with it hahahahhaha oof but my rebel yelling always delights her.
So yea what’s up with me mostly aside from kicking up dust constantly because it’s the beeeeest part about being sober. I love being shockingly sober. It wasn’t the booze at all, I’m actually THIS MUCH naturally, A LOT all the time, MORE sober than not! and how can that be objectionable really? I was born this way, lalalaaa - my AUDACIOUSNESS PROJECT (performance art). Sometimes I even flirt, which is fun, with dudes who aren’t gonna do shit about it but blush, I find that kind of a blast to do sober af sometimes.
Otherwise frankly I’ve been trying to figure out what to do about being some kinda in love with my ex who is always married a lot more than advertised is mostly what’s up with me. It’s driven me kinda half batshit with a horny v frigid reactive disorder that I’ll work through with my sturdy little therapist in the morning (hahahahahha) – and that’s what I’m gonna do, I’m going to laugh because only this one man on this earth can drive me this kinda crazy, wives falling out of his pockets if ya hold his ass upside down.
I exercise A LOT.
Welp, at least for tonight (let’s not count any gift of chicks too soon), I’m the very not-played-with girlfiend-ish-thing (v cousin). It’s calming to a Virgo to know where she stands, even in space. And most of all, he sounds good. I mean, physically alive definitely. Tired. I dunno, maybe the whole bankrupt looming wall is kind of a good thing, like a rock bottom, ya can’t get blood out of a rock typa deal. If he was working 40 hours (I think they’re supposed to cap child support at 150% hours), two kids is around 24% of that off the gross ….
See? What my brain does with this shit? It goes all over the place trying to solve his problems like a lunatic. I wrote porn for him and he never even wanted to read any - that is COLD! but then I’m just like yea, I want ya back, because I just instantly instinctively do that with him. Arms open. But by now I’m kinda a little like dude what did you think I have been doing with the whole huckleberry courtship hits the windshield like a bug thing? sucking it up and lighting candles unto madness 🤏? (and I think your wife [or mother] is trying to hex me btw, is that possible?)
So uhh that’s mostly what’s up with me.
And spending a looooot of money on trees. And fences and roofs and don’t get me started on my mother’s hydrangea obsession. I am past the point of nesting to brooding. Honestly it's a weirdly awesome feeling, just like ovulating but without the overhead. As is my Goddess given right as queen of the soul bunker and cottage core. It IS my job to make paradise(s), and that I shall. My mother is about to arrive to oversee the ongoing crusades. And I’ma gonna hold steady right HERE X
