Caterwauling

Last week I gave a “Goddess Gift” to someone who could use it. 

The gift is always unasked for. Always a gift, never a loan. A bright spot, I hope, during an unlucky streak. 

I want nothing back. Maybe an “ok I received it.”  But that’s enough for me. 

As I sent the gift last week, I thought well fuck. What meteor will fall out of the sky at me now?

As I duck and cover and lose my mind, I always wonder whether the universe would leave me alone if I would just pipe down and stay out of its way. I know plenty of people who have kept their jobs that way. 

Heck I wonder if I should drive like a nut and treat everyone like shit. Would I finally strike it lucky and maybe even rich?

It’s the solstice today. Although I think yesterday was truly the longest day of the year. 

The strawberry moon is still out too. The moon is rimmed in pink although my iPhone actively rebels against taking good moon pics. 

My lovely little balcony. 

I don’t get too personal with people. I mean, sure, I get personal HERE. But when people start asking me about movies and TV shows they watch, I got nothin’. Haven’t seen ’em. Not my cuppa tea. Even if I wanted it to be, my entertainment budget is far less.

They talk about having blood and sorority siblings, or workout routines, or whatever they’re into … and I still got nothin’. Husbands, kids, play dates, fancy trips — nope.

Sorry I bore you by simply existing here. I would bore myself if I thought that hard about it.

I do try to talk politics, because that’s my love, and their eyes glaze over. Either that or I get a dissertation on my candidates (yes I follow more than the presidential election). And I just want to put a foot up someone’s ass.

I hate feeling like there’s nowhere I belong.

But then I just got off a short, 15-minute call with the Hillary Clinton volunteer organizers. And Hillary herself got on. And I felt so … where I belong.

Granted, I hate talking to people in person. What the campaign needs most — people to get the message out — is what gives me the biggest anxiety ever.

Talking to people who might get it but who probably never will. Talking to people IN GENERAL. That’s why I became a writer, yo. It’s why I edit others. Thinking on one’s feet is a talent best reserved for the politicians themselves.

It’s weird. I finally found my homeys. And I have the chance to embrace them and be embraced. But what will our heroine do, and will she ever not just find her home but also enter it?

Not my favorite week. Not my favorite anything right now.

But then this IM helped to take my spiritual cup from near-empty to more than half-full …

I also got lunch at my favorite place.

So while the shitpile is deep, I have a little more energy to keep digging. If only the Benadryl would wear off …

My girl is officially the Democratic nominee. 

Dreams can come true. You just have to have them first. Then you can move on to bigger ones.

I wasn’t in Brooklyn tonight. I would have been. No plans to go now. 

But that’s ok. I got to watch history be made on TV. And I thought of my fellow Palm Beach supporters. Especially that good-looking guy I had a drink with at Mellow Mushroom. 🙂

It didn’t start out as a good day. But life is so much bigger than the eight+ hours that led up to now. 

And I may not sleep tonight. But right now, I feel like tomorrow — a lot of tomorrows — have the potential to be so much better. 

Here’s to eight years of waiting for this moment. And eight more to come. 

Atta girl, Hills. Atta girl. 

No matter how hard you try or how many hours you work or how much you fret about everything, it’s never really enough.

But then every once in a while you get a moment like this.

Just now, from one of my boys …

You are a rock star. While I don’t ever say “please” and sometimes forget “thank you,” I always appreciate how you hustle for me!

What he will never know is that I am the one who’s grateful for the opportunity. Every single day of my life. 

I continue to be amazed at who cares that it’s my birthday. They like me — they really like me! 

I also continue to be amazed that the two people I spent the most time with and spent the most money on can’t be arsed to send a text or use Zuckerberg’s platform. 

I mean, drop a dime and impress me here. Did I mean so little that no feelings or time or financial investment can be acknowledged, or returned in a small way?

Cheapskates. Emotionally or otherwise. Send a Starbucks card if you don’t want to break the emotional or financial bank or bother to get an address right 

Every year I end up cycling through people. This one is no different. 

Last year the team was going to take me to lunch at Brule. It fell through. If not for Lindsey and Sarah, I would have had no birthday at all. 

We went to a cute place that has since closed down. It was s great day. And it was all I did to celebrate turning 41. (And I never did get to Brule. Maybe next year.)

This birthday I took myself out for 20 minutes. You read that story. Didn’t do anything this year. Sarah and Lindsey still reached out but we don’t work in the same place anymore. 

But I have plans with a new friend today. An unexpected invitation. And I am happy for it.

Wonder who will make me sad next year, and wonder who will swoop in and take the pain away …

So, my own personal Peter Pan contacted me on social media today.

All the feelings. ALL.

I am a lost boy from Neverland
Usually hanging out with Peter Pan
And when we’re bored we play in the woods
Always on the run from Captain Hook
“Run, run, lost boy, ” they say to me,
“Away from all of reality.”

— Ruth B., “Lost Boy”

I have been so scared that he was dead. That’s why I have never looked for him. I didn’t want to know.

Looks like my expectations weren’t too far off. But he’s left town, cleaned up and turned his life around.

And he came looking for me.

I don’t know what it says about me that I had to let him go. Probably nothing good.

Or maybe I have a small redeeming quality in that I always, always wanted the best for him. I just couldn’t be the one to save him. And watching helplessly wasn’t doing me any favors.

But he came looking for me. On my birthday week.

He’s fine. He’s great. He’s thriving.

I’m very, very happy right now.

You can take the Whore of White Oak out of White Oak, but she will always be a whore for sure …