Sometimes I feel more love
from a grocery store clerk
than I do
from the rest of the world combined.
He looks me in the eye
and cares whether I understand
that paper is better than plastic.
So I choose paper —
not to please him
but to let him know
that I’m on the same page.
He wants me to know that if I had chosen plastic,
he would have been forced to charge me 20 cents and thus
I am now even more convinced.
Before I go,
he smiles calmly
and I believe
that he cares
So yesterday we got to visit a lot of animals… and family! Haha but some people (and maybe some animals) may not want to be written about so… I’m still going to just write about animals.
We got to visit ‘Fig,’ the very large, voluptuous and heaving purring cat. It was very hard to stop petting Fig. He sat in his room waiting for his owner and he had the biggest yellow eyes and calico fur (that almost looked yellow in patches). Very hard to put down.
And then there was Bruce. Bruce is so big! When he wants you to pet him, he drags his claws gently but heavily across your knee, thigh, shin, arm, or anything. Then, if you rub the top of his tush, he really loves it and if you stop then he starts moving his tush back and forth, pushing his butt against your leg until you keep your hand moving.
And then there was Oso. OH SO beautiful a dog! With a permanent look of shock on his face. Oso is oh so smart. He likes to dance and play. When our friend started to dance near him, he – being a Border Collie – started to jump up and bow down on his front legs and then jump as high as he could to herd his owner into place.
And then Toruk. The most gentle, beautiful princess of a queen that ever was. So quiet and meek. She notices everything and she goes wherever she is told to go. Faster than a puma, sleek as a jaguar, and her lithe, tan little body is dipped in chocolate brown sauce on her nose and eyelids.
And Candace. Big, muscular, calico cow-colored Candace. She has a pointy snout and big eyes and is very strong. She likes to walk by you and tempt you to pick her up. It doesn’t take much to make you pick her up. Candy Candace.
We’re all in love with something or someone. But if I had to pick something because someones sometimes come and go… I would say writing/dancing in my kitchen.
What are you in love with?
I know someone in love with talking on the phone. Another person in love with working out in the gym. Someone else in love with dirty memes. And then there’s the person in love with…
- Being constantly on the move
- Taking a dip in the pool
- Walking and talking
- Quiet moments with close friends
- Being boldly honest and raw and direct
- Being alone
- Slowing down time to its minutest parts
- Talking to strangers
- Drama and gossip
- Being on the cutting edge
- helping kids stay kids at heart even when they’re adults
- and so on….
- and what about you?
I’m chugging along doing my thang, don’t have a single care
When what should I see in front of me but a negative Nancy stare
What should I do? what should I say?
But oh no ‘it’s comin my way!’
Here’s what I do, I hope you try it too
Fight ‘no’ with ‘yes’ and ‘wah’ with ‘you’re da best!’
Give ‘hugs’ to ‘thugs’ and ‘smiles’ for ‘piles of shit’ that piss on your parade.
Love love love love love all the hate away
Love love love love love all the hate away.
Don’t settle for being on the backburner of somebody else’s life.
Settle for people who:
- Wish you a good spring break in a text for no other ulterior motive but to wish you a good spring break.
- Who leave gluten free noodles on your doorstep for no reason.
- Who smile and give you a hug even though it’s been a year since you’ve worked with them on a play.
- Who tell you that you helped to get them out of a cult just by teaching them about critical thinking.
- Who remember memories you barely remember like how you used to laugh when they said the word, ‘sisteeeeeeer.’
- Who blush when they see you or get so tongue tied and nervous that they have to run away for five minutes before they get up the courage to speak to you.
- Who tell you each time that they see you that merely your presence makes them feel calm.
- Who ‘get you’ so well that when you call for no reason, they know exactly why you’re calling and name it.
- Who follow you home one day in their VW van because they’re a new friend who can tell that something is up and you need a good listener and then they become an old friend who doesn’t mind reading the epic long emails that you write to them about life, love, relationships and everything in between.
- Who glance at you from across the room and with their Harlequin romance novel smoldering gaze they set your soul ablaze.
Until then, don’t settle.
“Love – by which I mean attachments to things outside the control of our will.” Martha Nussbaum
Whether it’s love of coffee or chocolate or people. I love traveling. I love to laugh. I love people. I love being alone. I love writing. I love being goofy. I love having no plans.
I can’t travel as much as I’d like to. Not enough money or time. Too many responsibilities. So the corner store has to be my moment of excitement each day.
If I could laugh all the time I would, but sometimes you have to be serious. Which fucking sucks.
I love people but sometimes I lose too much of me. And one of these days I’m probably not going to find my way back to me if I’m not careful.
I love being alone. I could be alone for long stretches of time. I could be alone so much that I virtually don’t need anyone or anything but then I might forget the joys and new ideas that come with hanging out. Plus being around people reminds you to bathe more often.
I love writing. I love it so much that I’d rather write sometimes than talk. But then I’d be missing out on the wonders of touch, eyes that dance, holding hands, hugs, and smiles, and feeling close. And it’s hard to spoon with a pen.
I love being goofy. But then I’ll be goofy at times when I need to take people seriously and they need tenderness, not distance. And you don’t necessarily want to be TOO good at being goofy. Or you might end up alone ALL the time. And I’ve already figured out why THAT’S not totally the best plan.
I love having no plans. But then I might end up poor and destitute and homeless someday so it’s good to have a plan.
In 2017, I’ve decided to be my own best cheerleader. Finally. It’s only taken 47 years to figure this out.
And I’m starting to finally notice what I can sort of do, but would like to get better doing: appreciating myself. Because if you don’t fucking stop to appreciate yourself, why the fuck would anyone else do it? And it starts by noticing what you’re good at and what you’d like to do more of. So here’s a little story for ya…
I had a cousin once (still do but I just don’t see him very much) who had a rare gift. He was able to love you and make fun of you at the same time. That’s pretty rare. People who can tease and adore, but he did it.
Once in a while I have glimpses of that ability in myself. Today I was at the grocery store and this cashier lady accidentally threw a pear at someone walking by. She didn’t mean to. She just lost her grip and the pear went flying at this dude. Luckily he dodged it but it crashed and got a big dent in it. She was very polite about it. She offered to get me a new one, but I said ‘no worries’ so then she just gave it to me for free.
Meanwhile, this other employee came by to bag my groceries and she asked what was up with the pear. We told her the story but I exaggerated and tattled about the lady practically throwing a fastball at a customer with the dented pear. We laughed at the cashier. We had a moment. It was nice, I thought, that the cashier let us laugh at her. What I enjoyed even more (I’m embarrassed to admit) is that I enjoyed the fact that I felt free enough to make fun of a grocery clerk and not worry about it. I know this may seem like a piddly little fact, but the truth of the matter is a bit deeper.
We’re all so afraid, it seems, to ever really tease each other about anything. This world is so fucking PC. Everyone’s worried about hurting everyone else’s feelings. Especially a stranger’s. We’re all so caught up in being perfect and safe. Nobody dares break that fourth wall of politesse and just be an awkward ass in order to share a laugh.
The other night my friend drunkenly spouted to people passing by that he was lucky enough to watch me pee once in the ladies’ bathroom. It’s true. One time I felt so comfortable with my ole chum that I peed while he stood by. It was no big deal. It was actually a challenge I took on myself. I normally can’t pee in front of anyone. Male or female. So to pee in front of a guy friend? God no, but I did it. And then my friend decided to tell everyone that we passed by that night what he did, and people congratulated him. Strangers applauded him.
I want to be that person who tells a random stranger some nonsense to make them laugh. I want to do that more and more. And I want to get up the gumption to tease more people more of the time. Life is too short to keep playing it safe and boring ass. I’m done with it.
If I learned anything in 2016 and that I will carry forth into 2017, it is this (sorry people who were hoping for handwritten blog entries…I WILL get back to writing those…I just need time to work up my finger muscles. It’s like playing piano after not playing piano for years. Pretty sloppy sounding. Thusly, my handwriting is sloppers, too, and I don’t want to put you through that misery. At least not today. Oh, and by the way, if I sound different at all today it’s because I am channeling the comedic genius of Maria Banford who I have been listening to non-stop for two days since my friend – the most amazing mechanic I’ve ever met – recommended her. With Maria, I have found probably the most kindred spirit in comedy that I’ve ever seen/heard and I can’t believe another human being exists on this planet who thinks/writes even remotely similarly to the way I think/write).
Ok, so here is what I learned. Nothing compares to the kissing of my cats. Well, within reason. I mean, I love my dogs. And I truly do. But there is something about my cats that is beyond compare. I think it’s the plethora of fur. It’s hard to nuzzle your nose into my dogs’ fur. Other people’s dogs may be fluffy but mine certainly don’t have enough. However, both of my cats, but especially Willow, have this bountiful rug of fur that is just bottomless. Delightful. There is virtually nothing as good as a good cat nuzzle.
I mean, Gizmo (the half Chihuahua/half-we-don’t-know-what-but-maybe-Corgi dog) is snuggable for sure. But his breath is pretty bad so if you get too close the fun of kissing his forehead starts to dissipate. And Daisy is deliciously delectable. Her fur is so soft. It’s as soft as it was the day we got her as a pup about a year ago. But it’s soooo sleek that there is just not much to nuzzle. I mean, it’s there but you can’t bury your nose in it the way you can Willow. Willow has girth and softness and a good smell that doesn’t include bad fish breath odor. I don’t know why she doesn’t have it but she doesn’t. Maybe she doesn’t open her mouth a lot. It makes sense. I mean, she’s not trying to lick me all the time like Gizmo so that’s probably why.
There are many reasons why I think more people should have more fluffy cats around to kiss. It would be hard for me to list all of the reasons why right here. I mean, I’m guessing eventually somebody might get bored. So let me just isolate one. Hmmmm, let’s see… I think the most important reason why is….. hmmm….the smell. Yup, it’s the smell. I mean, okay you know when you know a smell so well that it feels like home? Like, you go away on a long trip and then you come back and suddenly smell your house the way it truly smells but you don’t really ever notice that smell anymore because you’re in it all the time? Nevertheless, you recognize that smell. Something inside of you recognizes that smell as HOME. You know you’re home. That’s what Willow’s neck smells like. Home. Comfort. Home. This is where I belong. She is mine and I am hers. Home. We belong together, here. Maybe not always in this house but yup. She’s my cat. Our cat. I love her dearly. I can’t even imagine not having her someday. It’s not even possible. She’s just going to go on living ad infinitum. Yup. That’s it. There will always be a Willow. Whenever life gets to be too much (good or bad), all I need is a whiff of the space between her neck and her cheek and I’m fine again. Willow. The fat pillow. Willow. Phatty Fatmeister. Willow. The love muffin. Yummers.