Live to Love

Watching Chocolat while on Whole30 was probably a bad idea.  Also, what even was that movie and how was it nominated for an Oscar?  What I wouldn’t do for a Caramello right now.  Mmmmm…nom nom nom.  I have been informed by a friend that I talk in my sleep and that even then, I’m sarcastic.  And before everyone jumps to crazed conclusions, NO, not that kind of friend.  Had a few super magical hikes this week.  Saw a waterfall and we all know how I feel about a waterfall.  ALL THE FEELS.  Definitely more magical than the hikes by my house where on the way back, I had the pleasure of walking by a man shooting up in the parking lot of a strip club.  Just a casual Tuesday morning!  Then I was almost run over by a man in an electric wheelchair with a pet bunny on a tray table.  The kind of bunny that looked like it was originally a stuffed animal and then turned into real life by a fairy godmother.  LA really is an open air asylum.

I’ve been reading a lot this year.  It’s pretty much all you can afford to do when you have no money.  About to dive into my first Stephen King novel ever.  I tend to steer clear of horror being that I’m single and still have PTSD from the break-in, but here I go.  The things I do for Book Club.  I will admit, I have not been the best book club member as of late.  CONFESSION:  I did not read the last two books.  Why?  Because they did not bring me joy.  When I’m not interested, my mind wanders and then all of a sudden I’m turning the page and have no clue what I just read.  I end up reading the same page over and over and over.  I can’t pretend to be interested in something I’m not.  My poker face is nonexistent.  And I get it, book club is supposed to broaden your range and expose you to material you wouldn’t have chosen yourself.  But should I be miserable in doing so?  I think not.  So I chose to not read the book.  And you know what?  I don’t regret it for a second.  Those hours went to things much more fantastic.  And, yes, I’m missing the entire point of book club but time is precious man!  If you’re not having fun, is it even worth it?

And can we discuss romance novels for a second?  I read my fair share and I don’t know what kind of psychos are writing this rubbish but we’ve got virgins putting condoms on like they have any idea what they’re doing and then proceed to climax at the same time – it’s like, what magical bubble of Narnia are you fornicating in?  On your first time?? …ever??  You joking my ass?  These are written BY women FOR women and it’s all a bunch of bullshit!  I want to read what’s REAL.  Doesn’t everyone?  Then I think about the authors and I want to hunt them down, tie them to a chair and have them explain to me exactly how much ecstasy they were on when they wrote this garbage.  I should just start writing romance novels.  None of it has to make any sense anyways.  It’s like the meteorology of literature.  That’s what I’ll do.  Ta ta.  If you need me, I’ll be writing fictional love stories where men and women with no prior sexual relations or experience find release in tandem.  (sigh)  My mom is going to love this tangent so much.

Speaking of my mom, apparently she’s in Mexico?  Do your parents tell you when they leave the country?  Last time I was in Mexico I was so drunk, I smoked a cigarette in front of my mother and actually let someone take a picture of me in my bikini.  Two 1% chance occurrences.  I’m trying to leave a polite legacy in my wake okay?  My mother is like a living Waldo game, minus the stripes.  TSA has a better idea of where that woman is than I ever will.  She’s a travelling maniac…heavy on the maniac.  I once got a text message from her that said ‘sorry, I spilled beer in your contacts.’  I am 36 years old and predominantly drunk and have never once spilled beer in or around my contacts – spend less than 24 hours with my mom and my contacts are now swimming in Leinenkugel’s.  And people wonder why I am the way I am.

On a final, more sentimental note, my heart goes out to all those killed in the Calabasas, CA helicopter crash – especially the families left behind.  I can’t even imagine.  Another reminder to count your blessings and revel in another day.  Our ends are written in the stars.  Each and every one of us.  What we do with the time we’ve been given is ours.  I hope you seek adventure, I hope you find people that bring you to life, I hope you seek the sun and I hope you love with every single beat of your heart.  Because the day will come when our time in this realm will expire – not a matter of IF but WHEN.  So wake up grateful and if given the opportunity, live in love.  XO

 

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