If you told me as I was snapping these pictures of my girls all those years ago that our world would crash and burn—that we’d be Navigating waters of hardship and heartbreak—and become so vulnerable we’d feel buried under the suffocating ruins of our own lives, I might have given up. And yet had I done so, I would not have arrived to their adulthood so to see the humor and empathy of two humans unquestioningly relying on their shared strength, holding space for each others’ tenderness, and wearing one another for warmth during cold times.
It’s incredibly powerful and I’m blessed to have endured hardship that I could witness such love.
Just sitting in the parking lot of Whole Foods getting dictatorship updates via Twitter—since it’s the first time I’ve ever lived in a dictatorship and I want to be informed—and I had a nip slip while I was trying to get something out of my bra. And the nip slip was more like not really a slip as it was an entire boob visible and outside my bra and also it was definitely seen by someone. And how I know it was seen by someone is because I was so engrossed in searching my bra for whatever was inside it making me itch that I didn’t know my boob had come out of my cup until the very second I made eye contact with the lady parked in front of me and she opened her mouth in shock as if someone had just brought their boob out of their bra in the parking lot of Whole Foods.
Now I don’t have any clarification on what a dictatorship will be like because Twitter is basically just a whole bunch of people panicking about it—including myself—and no one knows what the fuck is happening or how much worse it will get. Maybe one boob is no big deal and it will get much worse; no one knows.
But for right now, i’m still trained in democracy so I holstered my boob, and mouthed the words “oh my God” and watched the lady—who was a real pro about it— get into her car and back out super fast almost as if she’d just been flashed. God bless her; my boobs made her flee, and that is some badass legit street cred going into this newest national nightmare.
Anyways, for real: I hope everyone’s finding a way to calm themselves. Because things are dying very quickly at the hands of the bad guys and we gotta steady this internal shit and repeat the mantra “sometimes we fall down because there’s something down there we’re supposed to find.”.
That my puffy eyes from allergies haven’t totally sealed themselves shut. I have the gift of sight.
That I caught the drip of watery-snot before it hit my mouth when I bent over to retrieve my sunglasses from the street.
That I didn’t step on said sunglasses and kill them like I did in January to my eyeglasses and that now I know I can go 5 months wearing lopsided, broken eyeglasses because Time is a meaningless invention most especially since each spring I become gainfully employed with “Impairment” and making an extra effort to tell everyone “it’s allergies” and that I’m not just stupid, high or hungover.
That it’s Sunday and parents can use me as a teaching moment for their kids because “the lady with the misshapen face can’t help it and Jesus wants you to be nice to things like her and whatever she is.”
That Mr Baby’s house is only my second pet sit of 19 today and I’m already so behind but that my exhaustion is actually impeding my ability to be stressed about it (or to remember my own name although honestly, I could make some good guesses plus it’s also on my drivers license so I’ll be okay)
That my hair is dirty because now my 50 psi eyes match my gnarly, filthy head. It’s a look now; I’m the total package.
That the cat in the picture who was making a horrible racket in the bushes under Mr. Baby’s house wasn’t actually a homeless pregnant female in labor but rather a pissed off grifter locked out of his house working me over for treats.
That I was already planning how I’d fit it in my schedule to meet my girls back at Mr. Baby’s house to catch what I thought was a pregnant female and transport her to Best Friends for care and eventual spaying.
That I’m not too world-weary to fall for the feline grift. That I actually AM a nice “whatever it is.” That i can see the humor in puffy eyes. That life isn’t perfect so I don’t have to be either.
That I can walk, have a home, have food, can breathe air populated with oxygen courtesy of trees and their selfless offerings, that I have my life, abilities and opportunities, my girls, Ellen, a chance to bitch then to stfu and make my day be it’s own inspiration for perseverance.
[2/26/2019: I can already feel the allergies starting for this year. They truly are debilitating at times–even while on allergy meds–but the show must go on and when you feel about it, things could always be worse. Happy Tuesday]