It is entirely possible that I’m a little amped up this morning. I took a big handful of decongestants (thank you Texas spring for pollen), plus a 5 Hour Energy, combined with Eminem on blast via Alexa. I have enough fuel/music rage to probably run a 10k. That is if I was physically capable of running a 10K. I’m not, but whatever. I promise, I’m going to get to my point about frogs and kissing.
Greetings from the bedroom on Lavender Lane on this fine first day of 2017.
I can say with almost complete certainty that 2016 was an absolute #shitshow.
I lay here on this dreary Sunday morning, wondering to myself if the dampness is causing my ankle to ache more (yes, it is.)
I message to my friend John the following question “is it a nap, or just going back to sleep if I am thinking about it at 8 am?” We conclude that if I’ve been up longer than 2 hours, it is indeed a nap, otherwise, I’m just going back to bed. Considering the fact that I’ve only left bed to let the pups out and feed the beasts, I think it’s fair to say after I hit send on this ramble, I will most likely go back to bed. That is a good friend that helps me justify a 9 am nap!
I experienced something on Thursday that I’m still thinking about 3 days later. I jumped on the phone with my friend Gina, a woman that I’ve known for eleventy million years, but for the life of me, literally can’t figure out the last time we talked voice to voice. Thanks to Facebook, we keep up with each other’s lives and have maintained a friendship over the years. What I still can’t stop thinking about though is how absolutely effortless it was to get on the phone with her. To pick up a verbal conversation like we had never missed a beat.
I love this about my people. Real, genuine conversations. I am the same way with a handful of people, able pick up at any point in life and just keep going. They know I love them even if I am an asshole and don’t call for months on end. Life gets lifey. Sometimes, it’s just hard to pick up the phone and ramble.
I love that with some people, I don’t need to have that constant interaction for them to know that I still give a shit. I don’t need to talk to someone every day to consider myself part of their lives, or they, mine.
I love easy conversation. Thoughtful conversation, or sometimes, friendships that require no words.
Not every friend interaction has to be a major event. Not everything has to be Instagram worthy, although, it is nice to have the memories. (Refer back to yesterday’s Insta feed)
It is nice to have the friendships that are various, random and not always making sense.
Since I started writing this post, I absolutely went all A.D.D.- wrote my meal plan for the week, ordered a pair of pants, and donated money to two different charities that support the Parks AND Women’s health.
Back to my point… what was it again? OH YES.
Friendships. I’m not nearly perfect in the friendship department, in fact, at times, I totally suck. I don’t listen enough and sometimes go AWOL for extended periods of time. The thing is, if the base of the friendship is good, it doesn’t matter at all.
As I grow older, I try to be a better friend. I try to be less of an asshole and find myself wanting to deal with less asshattery in general.
So, cheers to a Sunday filled with few assholes, good friends, and our democracy.
ps- I’m on week two of skipping the Sunday shows. I’m not skipping them because I think they are fake news (they are most certainly not), but I’m skipping them because I like my Sundays to be like Lionel Richie… easy.
As I lay so ever delicately in bed, coughing up a lung, I am using my imagination to figure out the places I want to go check out in 2017. I present to you, with little ado, my “2017 Travel Bucket List.”
Greetings and Salutations.
My friend Leslie gave me a book for Christmas called “52 Lists for Happiness” and I decided to parlay that into a blog project of sorts. Additionally, I have created a self-mandate to blog at least once a week on Sunday, and I’ve already #bigly failed at that, so I decided to write this grammatical nightmare of a sentence and work on a list. WHOA. HORRIBLE GRAMMAR. Next blog post “why I should never write for a living.”
Today’s list “Things That Make Me Happy.”
- George, the dog is less awful than he was 2 months ago. I mean, there is absolute progress. In fact, he was almost awesome today. I say almost because while talking to my buddy John this morning, a fire truck drove by. Every dog in the neighborhood started barking. George, my half basset/half lab dug deep inside himself and started this slow, horrible howl song that made me actually yell and him and say “STOP THAT OH SWEET BABY JESUS DONT LEARN HOW TO HOWL.” But ya, he is less awful than he was before. To see more of Georges adventures, why not follow me on Instagram and keep up with the #dailydogjeffersons antics. http://bit.ly/instakatethegreat
- I love cozy pjs. Soft, cozy pjs. I’m rocking some amazing leisure wear tonight and that makes me happy.
- I do believe I have perfected the Zehnder’s buttered noodle recipe. It’s really not complicated, but it’s cozy and delicious and probably reason #459 why I am the size of a small planet. What is Zehenders you ask? I feel like that should be it’s own blog post, but for right now, read THIS.
- I purged my closet (again.) I know what I have, what I am likely to wear and have a big pile of clothes ready to go be donated. If I keep passing this stuff by, there is literally no point in keeping it. PLUS, my closets are not big enough to have a wardrobe of multiple sizes/seasons/clothes that I may or may not ever wear again. Plus, I need to shrink my ass out of these clothes and then treat myself to new things. So ya. Um. Purged my closet today.
- Slug Sundays are my favorite. Minimal human interaction. Unapologetic naps. Cozy clothes and yummy food. Naps. Did I mention naps?
- Friends. Duh. As Bette would say “you’ve got to have friends…”
So, friends, random strangers from the Interwebs and those who quietly consume what I read, but never pick up and call… WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY?
For the love of all that is good and holy, the past 7 days, or rather the first 7 days of this spanking new year has totally sucked.
I could extrapolate on the fact that yesterday, I watched the casket lid close on my friend Amys sweet face, but I won’t.
I could talk about Weezie being a nutbag after getting into a scrap last week, but I won’t.
I also won’t bitch about the fact that there is something significantly wrong with the drain from my washing machine to the outdoors. NO one needs to hear about that.
Instead, on this, the 8th day of 2017, 58 days until I hit my 40th year, I choose to try to bring myself up from the gutter and find some good.
I find good in the company of those with whom I brunched today.
I find good in the fact that our waiter did not appear to think I was the ugliest girl in puppet land, despite the fact that he was a child.
I find good in the fact that my heat works, my dogs didn’t destroy anything while I was trying to drink away the hell of the week.
I find good in the fact that I ate chips & dip tonight for dinner. I mean, I know, I know, I need to do better, but I needed something fast and easy and it was there.
I find good in the fact that I’m sitting here admiring Christmas Tree # 2 as I compose this Pulitzer-winning prose.
I find good in the fact that something has snapped in this brain of mine, and I just don’t give a shit about stupid things anymore. Don’t you like me? That’s ok. Don’t you invite me to your shit? That’s ok. I’m not going to get butt hurt by exclusions this year, but I do know that I daresay will try less to please other people. I’ve spent most of my life pleasing people and where has that gotten me? Relationships work both ways. You give, you take. There should be a balance. If there is not balance, something is indeed off and needs to be analyzed. Bear with me as I gain my sea legs, but I am finally have come to the long overdue realization that relationships, either emotional, sexual, or friendly should be equally reciprocal. Period, end of story. If they are not, perhaps they need some thought and adjustment. Life is too short to not be happy.
This year. Oh, this year. I’m going to do things differently this year. Truthfully, it has less to do with the 40-year number, rather than I am just sick to death of trying to please others all the damn time. I think that straw broke a few months ago, and I finally am ready to do something about it.
It’s time to get a life.
It’s time to get my groove back.
And finally, I can’t stop thinking about this song: