I’m not even going to talk about how long it’s been since we’ve been together here, Reader. Not. Even. Gonna. Mention. It.
Let’s just pretend we chatted yesterday.
My computer was at the doctors. It had a Mac Attack of some sort and needed the specialist. Luckily I know The Doctor.
I’m going to describe exactly what is happening to you right now so you can feel like you’re here with me at Chez Bang Bang.
I’m drinking alone and I am not even going to let you make me feel judged about it, because this red is so damn delicious and also so what. Drinking home alone became the new going out to bars and drinking with strangers. Thanks again, Covid. But really, thanks, because I’m now considered part of the damn solution ~raises fist in solidarity with the cats~ when I stay home on Friday night and drink wine in my pajamas and not a nerdy dork who doesn’t have a friend or a date.
This will come as a surprise, but I’m listening to T. Swizzie, the SAME. SONG. ON. REPEAT. and I’m feeling young and first love-y and bluesy like a girl who’s over her old lover but also not really over it or we won’t be feeling all the feels and singing into our wine glass and making the cat be our reluctant dance partner**.
**cat scratches are love tattoos.
- End Sidebar.
Anyway… I’m just trying to get back into seeing stories everywhere I look and sharing them with you. I know I say that. A lot. But! I recently received one of the best surprises from my most generously-loving-towards-me-and-I’m-not-even-sure-why-or-that-I-deserve-it cousins, a book that has told me that I OWE IT TO MYSELF and THE ENTIRE WORLD to practice writing every single day and I had my AhHa! moment. This is where I practice telling stories.
Sometimes the sentences really struggle to find their way to my fingers.
Sometimes the stories write themselves.
Almost all the time I don’t exactly know what we’re going to talk about. I consider my rambling ways part of my charm. Don’t try to make it a negative, Reader. I’ve been following all of the Be Best gurus out there and I’m high-fiving myself (and then I’m immediately annoyed that the mirror has a giant man-hand print on it that I NOW have to clean off), body-positiving myself and working on good habits and also want to practice in order to do a headstand as part of my 2022 goals.
I’ve never before ever in my life done a headstand. Ever; not eight-years-old-and-bones-are-probably-still-soft me; not fifteen-and-bendy-year-old-teen-me,
And so just now I’ve bowed to Almighty Google to ask a question on headstand vs. handstand and listen to me now and hear me later, Reader: I will never attempt a headstand.
To quote on the cons of a headstand: if you somehow manage to fall out of the inversion, you’re risking a very serious injury.
Every single indicator points to I WILL FALL OUT OF THE INVERSION, should I ever make it into the inversion.
So scratch that off the list, Awful Dumb 2022 Goal.
Don’t fret, Reader. I still have a laundry list of equally hard-to-achieve but probably won’t paralyze me goals on my To Goal list.
I started to list them in numerical order; however no one actually gives a shit about my goals except me and that’s not even all the time. And also I don’t need you feeling badly about yourself for only maybe having a goal of to try all the new Oreo flavors, and dammit, why didn’t I put that on MY list??
I typed that like that was a bad goal. Apologies, Nabisco. It’s a solid goal and supports the Vegans.
That’s where we are going to leave things tonight, Reader. I’ve moved on to T-Swifftee’s Evermore and now I’m closing out Folklore and I need to go and braid my hair and weep.
*title of post may or may not be a lyric from a song by TWIZZLE. I’m dropping my own easter eggs or something here.