Week One

PMS and Pinesol

Ok, so, the last 3 days have wrought a turn for the worser. A new dog is fun to walk, but not fun to pinesol and anxiate about.

And what did I say on Friday? Seems my ovaries, or perhaps some sort of breakup cycle erased 2/3 of that. Well, not erased, let's say cloaked.

My thing: at first I am better but then she gets better. In my mind of course, because how does that really change. I haven't even seen her to know that she is better, or worse. Though talking to her might help me see the worse part. That was mean. I take it back a little. Because I do miss .. her, or when she allowed me to break shit down, or something.

I know that I am still supposed to be strong and a he-woman and taking back my days n such, but I need a few more pep talks and maybe one less ovary.

For now I will say that I rock, even though I'm uncertain. But at least I have the nuts to admit the latter. There are some who don't.

Ah Feck But Not Quite At All

So this turn around I'm having weird remembrances of a past beginning. Meaning I'm finally getting to back to feeling who I used to feel. And I'm not reaching to be able to say that. It's just happening, on its own. My brain is doing it for me somehow. How can this be so different than the last 2 times. I could be an old pro by now, or maybe I'm finally just succumbing to that fact that I both don't matter and matter a lot.

Give Me Mine, Valentine

I've gone from making happy to wanting to be made happy and I'm reversing. The Beatles sang "All you need is love" with, I think, an implied [to give] before "is." Because if you tell someone that all you need is love, all that you think you need isn't likely in sync with all they're willing or able to give you. And the things they do give you fall by the wayside as nothing of note. The only thing one can do is give love and hope for the best. And as long as the other can take it and not treat you badly for it, you're good, I think.

Changing notes, this city's dredge is a chokehold when I came from sidewalks filled with people going somewhere. However, the bar aint set too high, which gives you more leeway to sit at bars, waste a day, and go out to lunch.

Blips of A Few Days

My sister's husband forebade her to get a tattoo in New Orleans. She told me she wanted one on her asshole so she could show it to him at oportune times.

She wasn't drinking because they're trying for a kid. She never drank much anyway. She, sitting next to my brother, had the biggest glow on her face when I was on stage, smiling back at them as I detangled from my umbilical cord.

My brother watched a motions hearing with rapt attention, shushing me when I tried to whisper wise words of explanation to him. He made some observations that floored me and reminded me that he's not 8 anymore. He said maybe he should be an attorney. I'm hanging on that.

Molly sat on the wrap-around porch with them talking about babies and childhood until late at night. She told me how beautiful they were. Wish she'd listen better when I tell her she's beautiful and in many ways my dream come true. I know it. and that's why I have my work cut out for working on myself, I learned again this weekend.

Social Network was unremarkable. Except that it made me want to be more remarkable. Or more remarkable than this town suggests I be.