So today I found out that it isn't only my skin that has gotten loose and old, and subject to blowing every goddamn which way like it's not even attached, like it's not even mine, as it sits on my hand (just for fun, apparently) under that snarky little "Feel the Power" arrow on the evil hand dryer at Target. Yeah, I went there today, and I used that dryer. I did it for you, because I wrote about it last night, and I just kept thinking about it, and wanted to touch base with reality, have the real gale force wind blowing across my skin rather than just trying to wrap words around it. Okay, that's not true. I did it because I happened to be at Target (yeah, I know they're politically incorrect, but they're not quite as politically incorrect as WalMart, where I NEVER shop, and not quite as hey-this-is-cute-let-me-wear-it-for-two-days-before-it-falls-apart as KMart, so there). Okay, that's not really true either, because it sounds like I went there by accident, which I surely did not. Geez, this truth stuff is taxing.
The real reason I happened to subject myself to the torture of the Xlerator is that there is a powerful phenomenon that has taken root since we last spoke (or whatever it is that we do). Target keeps me regular. There. I said it. And Jamie Lee Curtis isn't even sitting on my couch (damn).
I know! I don't understand it myself. When I shop at Target, I unfailingly need to go to the bathroom while shopping. Sometimes more than once. I know, I know, this is way more than you needed to know. But hey, I'm just trying to explain why I dried my hands, give a girl a break. At least I'm not pontificating about the many things I notice in public bathrooms, though come to think of it, that's a good idea for a future post, thanks for bringing it up.
That's what you get for wondering.
Anyhow, back to what I learned today. I learned that skin ain't the only thing that blows around in this "season of life", let's call it. All kinds of things blow by, whoosh around, vanish completely while we look the other way, even disappear right in front of our eyes. Yesterday's post was one of those times.
I had it all worked out, this re-entry thing. Like I said yesterday, this coming back in is not the simplest of feats. Witty. That's the ticket. That's what I told myself. I wrote and wrote (in my head, mind you, you didn't miss anything) for several days, experimenting with my first post back. And guess what? They were ALL about the blue moon that we had last night. I posted on facebook that I was returning, and people asked me when, and I said yesterday, December 31. And the REASON I was coming back on December 31 was because there was a blue moon and there was something poetic about that "once in a blue moon" thing and the fact that I had not written here in several months, and boy howdy, I was gonna take advantage of that, you know, tie it together real pretty with a purple ribbon. I had it all written. It was witty, I tell ya. I was all ready to go, and I sat down for my first post back, and what did I write? Roy Rogers, hand dryers, relationship pitfalls, and fully shame-indoctrinated cartoon rabbits. Not a damn thing about the blue moon. Whooosh. There it went.
(I gotta say, I am thoroughly impressed with myself. Only one day back and I'm into full judgment mode again. Wow, that was so easy. And they say that it takes a while to get back into the groove. Pshaw.)
The blue moon was cool, though, wasn't it? Happening on New Year's Eve and all? Portentious, kinda. I mean, I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. I made a blue moon cake (green cake inside, bien sur) for the occasion. Here it is, even though there's not a darn thing that's witty (or portentious) about a green cake with bluish-grey frosting. Yummy, though.
As for resolutions, well, you know that old story. No need to put undue pressure on myself (which explains why I signed up for Nablopomo, I guess, yeah?). I dunno. Become less bitter? Write every day? Find a kernel of something to write about every day that is fit for public consumption so that I can once again seat myself comfortably and happily in this blog? Figure out what I'm going to be when I grow up? Eat Froot Loops (which have fiber now, in case you haven't heard, just to tie the whole post together, doncha know) more than once a year just for the heck of it?
Sure. Those'll work.
It's going good ("it's going WELL, Robin!") so far.
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