In my songs-on-repeat-100-times extravaganza, I have been obsessively listening to this song.
It’s making me really happy. You should just keep it going while you read this post, because I bet it’ll make you happy too. Like it’s summertime and we’re outside in my backyard. I’ve hung up white Christmas lights around the very old wooden fence and in the large tree, so even though it’s dark outside, we can see each other, between that and the half-melted candles around the table. Bar lighting. We’re just finishing dinner I made for you, and it was so good! Some sort of grilled chicken I think – even though I’m a vegetarian. We ate outside on an old picnic table that my dad refinished for me (heads up Dad), and the fire is going nearby in the fire pit. It’s low tide and we’re just barely close enough to the ocean to smell it, on the occasional warm breeze. Anna’s gone off to play with the neighbor-kids, and we can hear them laughing, screaming and running a few houses down. This song comes on, and as the beat picks up, we decide to leave all of the dirty dishes, pour more wine and dance.
In reality, there’s a wintry chill outside and it’s raining, and that sort of feels like weather to sleep to instead of dance to.
Also in reality, I’m sort of in survival mode right now, which means a few things, other than songs on repeat and fantasizing about what the summer in Kittery will bring. Other happenings from the front lines of heart-hurt:
Sarah Koenig has become my one-sided rebound relationship: It started as an addiction to the show itself, of course – Serial. Did Adnan Syed do it? I don’t know. Has Bowe Bergdahl paid the price already? Honestly, I don’t even care, as long as Sarah will keep talking to me about it. I wasn’t able to sleep for a few weeks, and have been trying everything: Meditation. Advil PM. Whiskey. Running. Okay, I’m lying about that last one, but I THOUGHT about how it might help. Regardless, Sarah has been my only savior. I have been plugging in my phone, absorbing myself in the even tone of her stories, and passing out. Yes, I’ve been waking up hours later to the silence of the podcast being over, still not managing to make it to the end of Episode 5, ‘Meanwhile, Back in Tampa’, but it’s okay. Because I don’t really want it to end. So I hit play again, tuck myself in, and fall back asleep.
I’ve committed to eating everything in my house before I shop again: I don’t know why. I looked at the cupboard one day and realized we had managed to purchase, or acquire, like 10 different boxes of cracker-like-pretzel things. And who NEEDS that? We don’t. It felt so wasteful and processed and it stressed me out. It was like, everything that is wrong with the world, right in my cupboard. So I decided we’d eat it all and then once all the food was gone, go shopping again – locally, of course.
For produce only.
With reuseable bags.
On my bike.
Until I can get the garden going?
What this means is that my options for dinner tonight are frozen quinoa, beans, some beef broth, apples or marshmallows that are all stuck together in a bag. Or wait – brown rice. Or some sour cream? Maybe I can put those things together.
Shockingly, Anna has been stomping around the house for the last 24 hours noting she will STARVE with only WATER and SOME APPLES to eat and drink!
(I won’t let her eat the bag of marshmallows. But why haven’t I thrown it away? I don’t know. I’ll go do that now.)
I’ve overposted on Facebook and Instagram and written 10,000 blog posts. I know you guys, totally pathetic. I’m all – look at my cat! I’ve updated my profile picture! I’m running a race! Wait, my cat again! I’m one post short of a picture of my sour cream and beef broth dinner. I wonder what people did when there wasn’t even email? Because at least before Facebook and Instagram, you could hit ‘get mail’ a bunch of times. And that was satisfying for sure. I mean, I likely did that 10 times before I wrote to you guys. Maybe people just stared at the phones hooked into the wall and called the operator to see if it was working? That seems like something that would bring me endless joy in the absence of wi-fi. What I am saving you from is the 9,999 other blog posts I’ve written over the last few weeks.
I decided to have a party: The last time I decided to have a party – a large one, anyway, was this time. This time of year, hurting a little bit, and wanting to plan something where a ton of people I love would be in a room with a ton of other people I love so they would all fall in love with each other. I’m going to be 38 this year, and I had some fleeting fantasies about having a 3rd anniversary of my last party – my 35th birthday party (because that has a better ring to it, doesn’t it? A third anniversary of 35?), but there’s so much stuff happening this summer (isn’t there always?) that I didn’t think I could make it happen.
But I’m rethinking that, in this moment.
And no worries, as mentioned in the previous paragraph, once I figure out the details, I’ll totally keep you posted.