First: Be a lesbian.
Yeah, I didn’t want to tell you because I thought it would be cruel and unkind, but yes, each and every thing in life is better if you are a lesbian. And I think probably if you are a bisexual too. Even chocolate tastes better. Colours are brighter. The smell of apple cinnamon fresh from the oven is near orgasmic. And we get a larger selection of clothes to buy, so shopping is 72% more fun.
Sorry, I took the pledge when I joined but I just thought that today it was time to let you know what we, in the giant lesbian conspiracy all know (yeah, the fundy Christians are right and we not only CAN communicate telepathically as part of the lesbian hive but we recruit, because like all those drug warning ads, one hit of lesbian lip lock and you can be addicted for life).
Second: As a camera whore, there is always at least one kick ass picture somewhere in your future.
A few days ago I got to see the wingspan of a blue heron from a couple feet away. Linda got the picture. She was thinking of kicking the bird, because she had lots of ‘I am a heron standing here’ pictures. But children were watching. She was thinking of doing it anyway. That’s what camera whores do. We aren’t proud of it, but that next shot, it is like masturbation, the more you try NOT to think about how great it would be, the worst the need for it gets. So, go forth and take pictures….once you are done and recovered from ‘the amazing disappearing finger trick’, ‘erase the problem’ (rub till it comes off!), or ‘just reading mom!!’
I am going to respite today and for everyone that helped that happen; thank you so much. I'm off, well, almost.
I am in that part of travel where I am terrified and freaking out (and wondering how to fit my entire apartment into a suitcase). I don’t do well with the whole anticipation of changing environments. I know ‘it’s going to be great!’, which is what I was told in line on every roller coaster ride. I know I’m going to love it there. And Linda is going to probably stay up too late doing sudoku’s, and I am going to use the pool, because it has an accessible lift down (rocking hotel), if I can find my suit. Cause I think they frown on skinny dipping at this hotel.
I would say I am scared shitless except I ALMOST missed a medical appointment because my nerves woke me with a ‘hey let me introduce you to your good friend, Thomas Crapper’.
I have a camera, and I am going on an adventure. That’s good, that’s going to be good. Let’s find out what I can do. I might even order room service – I haven’t done that in about 15 years. I’m going to use Indy to chase seagulls, and then go drink Sangria.
Have a kicking day, okay. Because somewhere, out there, is the smell of fresh baked bread. You know you love that smell as much as I do (okay, I enjoy it maybe 32% more because I’m a lesbian: sorry), so go and find it. When you taste the melted butter on the still warm fresh bread that's no metaphor, but getting up to find it kinda is: No risk, no reward.
When did I forget about that? There is no point fighting to live if there isn’t a smile about the life that’s been stolen, pawned, borrowed, and nicked. I’m off to find an adventure, start a revolution, participate in something memorable or at least keep trying for something which gives a smile, I hope you’ll join me, on this and on every 15th of the month. Life may bury me under four tonnes of lemons, but at least I smell citris delish!
There was a full moon last night I think: I’m going to look for it.
2 hours ago