Caterwauling

What, you think I’m talking about him? Bless your bionic heart.

Mom: Did you guys have Crabcakes when you were there?

Me: Nope, Crabcakes wasn’t invited.

I had a troll who liked to shit on any post about my grandfather.

Then I got a troll who liked to shit on posts about my friend who passed too soon.

I will never understand hating someone so much that you mess with their dead. Like they can’t talk to YOUR dead. And do.

I didn’t deserve this special girl. So glad we got the magic moments in time that we did. Well, maybe I did deserve her. To make up for all the rest.

Her heart gave out. Too full of love, I like to think.

Why sweet people leave us and meanie cottontrinis get to stay will never cease to break me.

If I could have one superpower, it would be reallocating that particular distribution of dumb luck.

Many of us are remembering moments so perfect, we would never need to do them again.

We knew how good they were. We knew then that we could never replicate the wonder, the joy, the closeness, the tastes and textures, the adrenaline coursing through us, the colors we’d never noticed before.

Perfection frozen in time.

Just like in this article …

How Cancer Prepared Me for Coronavirus

With more time to live, the author had perfect moments he suddenly wanted to relive. Something to hold onto when hope was hard to come by.

I have had a handful of perfect moments, dates, days, trips, relationships.

I don’t think much about them.

But that’s because I savored each to the fullest, when I had them.

I promised myself in those moments to live them like I wouldn’t get them back. Wrote about them so I wouldn’t forget.

Some I got back. Most, I didn’t.

It’s tricky to recreate magic. You take Wonder Woman or Superman someplace once and then the Electric Grandmother or Dopey Opie the next time. It’s gonna be different.

I’ve had lots of unusual and decadent experiences. But only a few were spent with someone just happy to be alive and included. That made even the ordinary special. I felt alive, too.

I found a new place I want to try when this is over. I know someone who’d love it. One of those happy types. I am that way, too.

Nice to meet a kindred, even if just for a cocktail.

The author wanted to swim at his summer house with his daughter again.

Me, I’ll be happy for more moments of simply enjoying the moment.

I wish the same for anyone who gave me one of those magic moments. May we all get more.

My Disney wedding may be on hold but I’ll dance (and cook) all night for a guy who cleans.

And all the creatures in it. Just not rabid Foxes that spread parasites.

RIP Tom Lester, who passed yesterday. He was the last surviving cast member.

The bipolar, borderline one who

Is glued to the couch

(It’s a nice couch)

Verbally assaults her mom

Drags her men

Barely knows her kids

And embarrasses herself all over social media

Comes to mind

What? I was talking about the “Teen Mom” cast.

Still LOL’ing tho at the one who thought I was calling them Moldilocks.

Way to advertise their hygiene to 800 people.

Poo-tinky.

So how do you suppose dress code enforcers are handling quarantine? Does they talk to themselves about their outfit choices? Do they send themselves to their room to change?

I, for one, keep reminding myself that I can wear whatever I want. And do.

My friend just sent me this and said put it up now.

I’d ask why. But I am enjoying my day. My life.

And I wish everyone else the same. I really do.

Even Moldilocks. I heard she left her husband. Hopefully she didn’t go to her DeSantis-lovin mother’s.

There’s hope for everyone.

This was an actual loss.