The next time I decide to enter an art show after a long and troubled hiatus, write about very emotional family stories in a public forum, and read a life-altering book all at the same time, will you guys like, warn me?
I mean, I'll probably still do it all, but at least I'll be prepared to have my authenticselfinnerchildkundaliniartmojoanima suddenly wake up on fire screaming.
I'm having a flood of something, everything-ness. Big tidal waves of it. I'm bursting into happy tears that feel just like seeing a lover after a long separation or holding your icky squirmy baby with her umbilical cord still attached.
Bu is welcoming me back with that same look in his eyes.
And- this is so cornflake girl I can't believe I'm typing it- but I have this massive zit breakout and it feels like there are toxins being expelled from within. Like my bodymindsoul is feeling good and is just pushing shit out of my system.
I love my LaLa. She's the best woman in the world to talk to when I need mommy/sistah energy. I melted down on her Friday night, but in a good way. She laughed and laughed at me when I called myself a hippy chick from outer space. She offers wonderful practical advice to existential questions. My prescription for marriage stress is to "plant something in the ground." She tells me it's not a home until you plant something. And I realized the only thing we have planted- my sad little willow- died. Pretty. So I'm going to plant something even though i have no idea what to put where. She says phlox is easy and grows crazy, so that sounds like me.