Piano's. Gay Men. Me + Tequila.

Did I ever think I would find myself on top of a piano singing Journey, legs hanging off the edge, drink in hand, & looking like Miley freaking Cyrus after too many drinks and poor makeup application at an awards show? No, I did not. But there I am in gold sequins and false eyelashes trying to find the groove that makes even a gay man feel inspired to put his tongue in my mouth. Oh, and what soft lips he had! Usually I'm the girl who has a couple drinks and grabs a cab by 12. Not tonight. Maybe it's the Moon! The Stars! Actually, its probably just the Tequila and the newly single "bliss" I'm trying to manifest. My mantra for the night is "you are fabulous". I tell myself over and over until I believe it and there I am dancing and moving my fingers through my hair which is hair sprayed within an inch of it's life. The bar is closing. I'm not done dancing. I beg Mr. Bouncer to let us stay after hours, instead he get's my phone number and I dance barefoot all the way to the car where I continue to dance even if only inside my head. I close my eyes while we wind past houses and I prop my red toes on the passenger side dash, Seattle wind whipping past my bronzed cheeks. 

Enjoy the gifts your given, even if bad dancing is one of them because WE ARE ALL FABULOUS. 

Dear Self: Let the Crazy Go

So in an attempt to save any sanity I have left I have decided to deactivate my facebook. It is temporary but so liberating. Also, it keeps me from typing in my ex's name in the search tab followed by seeing pictures that I took of him & the girls who push the "like" button way too often on these pictures. If you ask me it just looks desperate, then again I would be the girl stalking. So, facebook is deleted. Secondly, I will stop sleeping in my bosses bed. Side note: My boss is a woman and is like a mother to me so the issue of sleeping in her bed is exclusive to the fact that it isn't healthy for a twenty-something to be snuggling up to her boss or anyone that isn't a puppy at this point in my grieving process. I should really get a puppy. For the puppy's sake, I won't. Thirdly, when the girl at Starbucks or the gym asks me how I am and noting my red puffy eyes I am going to respond "I'm great!", instead of my recent "I'm fine (sad face)", which is returned with random girl's 'I'm sorry' look and then my sudden urge to want to hug this stranger.

OMG and finally....Dear Self: When you start to cry do not drink any more vodka tonics, I know you've just discovered the deliciousness but it makes you send texts too freely and your current state of mind likes to flirt with ex flings, boyfriends, etc. Flattery from the last douchebag you dated is not what you need and ultimately ends in you realizing you now have to figure out a way to get them to stop texting you about that bra, the one with the blue lace, ya you know the one, and so do they, and imagining them imagining it after you've sobered up is creepier than finding a cat under your bed when you don't own a cat.

You ask how I am. I avoid the question and instead tell you I've been keeping busy. Reconnecting with friends. I want to tell you I'm great and that I don't miss you or our long drives and beach trips. Instead I tell you I miss California. You tell me California is great. I know it is, I wish you wouldn't tell me how sunny it is and how warm the water gets.  I wish you would tell me you miss me too.

Eventually all of the sunny days, the useless days, and the 'gone wrong' days will add up to something. The boss that treats you like shit and pays even shittier, the boyfriend that yells at you but you still love, and the mother that doesn't know when to stop giving advice will add up to something. The nights you're alone in your bed and have no lonely thought in sight, the time someone you don't want to kiss kisses you and it turns out to be lovely, and the time you throw yourself a birthday party when its not your birthday but people still light candles on a cake and you make a wish; it will all add up to something. People tell you that all the days will be your becoming. These people have children to put to bed, lovers to kiss, books with publishing dates and the knowledge that wherever you end up "you're gonna be okay".

Your Are Going to be Okay.
& When you're not, that's okay too, one day it will mean something more.

Shades of Beige...

I walk down the street eating my mint ice cream wearing a fedora; a hat I never thought I could pull off, especially while eating an ice cream. I don't feel fat for indulging and I don't feel weird or out of place in this hat meant for girls that don't care about being too trendy or not trendy enough. Today strangers on the street are giving me compliments. Sassy hat. I love your accessories. Is that a Louis Vouttin (borrowed from my bosses closet)? And I realize for the first time that maybe I was never meant to be a girl that counted calories or didn't wear hats or carry bags that I worry make me look pretentious. So I stop at the make-up counter and let the girl paint my lips coral and brighten my lids with yellow. I haven't used an eyeshadow that wasn't in the scheme of beige since the 9th grade. I tried on a different girl today and until I settle into myself I think I'll buy more hats, wear taller shoes and not give a shit if I gain a little weight because there's too much life to live outside shades of beige.

Butterflies Deserve an Open Field

The Summer Solstice is almost here. We need magic. New season, new beginnings. Place all of your wishes, forgiveness and love in a safe place and when the solstice sun rises release them like butterflies and tell them to be well and prosper.

Believe that you deserve beautiful & precious things. Because you do. Always.

Because Life Isn't Always Hunky Dory...

I knew something was different when I woke up this morning. Something was off. It started with my appetite, needing nothing more than tea and grapes. I usually drink coffee and spread butter too thickly on two slices of toast. As I watched the milk billow in my tea I got that feeling. I always know when depression is starting to seep in, it senses the perfect time to infiltrate the corner of my brain that is always poorly guarded. The call is unexpected and yet my new morning ritual of tea and grapes seemed to be waiting for it. You say you feel terrible, that you hate having to tell me this. And here it comes: the break up. The untying of late nights and early mornings spent with legs entwined and the safe feeling you only get when you pick your person, and think they’ve also picked you. Sitting in my bath of now chilly water I can’t tell where my tears end and the tap water starts. The image that keeps popping into my head is the milk puffing up like clouds in my tea from this morning. The universe was trying to warn me this was a day to stay in bed. I should've listened. But instead I separate my clothes from yours and wash the smell of you off my body and out of my sheets. Over the next few weeks we will begin to weed out the things from our relationship .The pants you left here and the shampoo I left there will be gone and the traces of me in your life will disappear. As if I was never there.