confession: while talking to me on the phone yesterday (i break my no-talking-on-the-phone rule for her), she sat on a swing in the hamptons telling me about a book she’s reading, one of those life-changing books that pricks the brain cells like free-basing cocaine and affects one’s brain chemistry with each rush of another chapter. i ordered her book recommendation this morning. i didn’t tell her about the book i had just finished reading that morning, the fiction book set in a country that isn’t mine but that i’d claim if they’d have me. a book in which i nearly died of thirst and exposure in the desert, fell in love with someone who isn’t my type, and forgave my parents for being reckless with their love for each other along with the protagonist. i didn’t tell her about that book, the best book i’ve read in a while (and i read at least three books a week), because she doesn’t read much fiction and my book doesn’t match her qualifications for life-changing. but it meets mine. great writing changes my life one genius word-coupling phrase at a time. reading great writing gets me high. on the occasion i write well, writing well also gets me high.
confession: the first thing i saw when i woke up was the magic wand hanging on my wall that i inherited from her when she moved to new york. my first thought when i saw the wand was “ i bend reality” which is a phrase i obtained from a radiant being last night. last night i went to the most enjoyable birthday party i’ve ever attended. (happy day-after-your-birthday, t!) today is the birthday of my favorite poet and whiskey drinker. (happy birthday, d!) in an hour i’m having a tea party with the sexiest tree goddess who towers protectively over the rest of us. i have magical, artistic, kind, creative, smart-funny, passionate friends. i’m frickin’ lucky and i know it and i give thanks for my luck every day…and still, most days i have to listen to the blues to cheer myself up. which is okay. because i do it. i get myself cheered up and i get my shit done and then i celebrate the special and ordinary days with the people listed above.
confession: a little bit more each day adds up to a lot after several months.
confession: i wouldn’t be with him if i were still friends with the other one. life automatically upgrades for me when i release the ones who aren’t worth my time.
confession: i used to feel insecure about having a horse face. (don’t bother telling me i don’t have a horse face, i won’t believe you.) but horses are strong and beautiful and powerful and i’ve learned to claim the strength, beauty, and power of my horse face and toss the insecurity behind.
confession: i want more tattoos. i know exactly what i want and where i want to put them but i made myself promise to wait til i’m 50 to ink them because life has a knack for surprising me and i often change in unexpected directions as a result of those surprise circumstances and i want to be sure that the symbols i’d choose now are the ones i want marked permanently on the flesh transporting my heart in this world.
confession: i’m learning to like more and more people and i’m learning to like them more and more. i’ve loved all the people all along. but loving and liking ain’t the same. i can love you from afar. i gotta like you up close, when you’re in my grill, when you’re talking at me. and now i can.