Fire Swamp

Well well well – just when I thought everybody was out of control just enough, enter MURDER HORNETS!  Cause cicadas weren’t enough.  No, no.  That’s too biblical, they said.  We need something a little more modern, a little more sexy.  Viola murder hornets.  Maybe landsharks and sharknados aren’t such crazy concepts afterall.  There really isn’t much that could surprise me at this point.  If you told me this whole thing was being puppeteered by the indigenous people of Jupiter, I’d be like – that tracks.  I recently read a script about meth-gators.  Sure.  Add them to the mix.  Everyone from Narnia – come on down!  It’s like a Price is Right game.  You’re standing on the stage trying to figure out who’s right and what to do and everyone is just yelling out their opinions – most of whom are not professionals at anything and find all of their information on Wikipedia.  There are so many theories and jibber jabber running around that I don’t know who paid who to say what or why but I do know this:  everyone is right…and they know it.

I like to disconnect at least once a day because I think it’s very important granted the combative social media climate and tyranny of misinformation.  Nature tends to have a calming effect on me and the closest thing to a spa I can indulge in.  So I went on a little journey up a waterfall.  Pure Bliss.  Take it in.  The rolling waters.  The sunshine.  The crisp air.  And then – “There’s a huge viper underneath that rock you’re standing on.”  WTF?  Thank you middle-aged walking stick lady who kept on going like she didn’t just drop a vat of blood over my head at the prom.  There’s a what?  Excuse me??  CAN YOU BE MORE SPECIFIC?  Like he’s under there cause you saw him or is he a friend of yours?  Do you know him? Does he call you at home?  (sigh)  Paralyzed in fear, I did not move for a solid ten minutes.  I’m Indiana Jones like that.  Now…one would think that I would hightail it back to the car, but then you’d be forgetting that I am one of the most stubborn people in the western hemisphere.  So did I keep going?  You bet I did.  Did I almost fall off the mountain?  Uh huh.  Did I actually see any snakes?  I SAW ALL THE SNAKES.  It was like an open air haunted house except for all the snakes were real and it was broad daylight.  FUN!  My ambition got me to the top.  I can say I did it.  And hungover at that.  Traumatized and victorious.  The title of my autobiography coming this fall.

Thoughts and prayers to all you moms and dads out there.  Extra love to the moms especially – it’s your week.  I don’t know how you did it pre-quarantine and I don’t know how you’re doing it now.  You deserve capes, endless goblets of alcohol and the finest cheese boards Napa has to offer.  My best friend described her children as giant rats trying to sit and crawl all over her which I then equated to the rodents of unusual size from the cave in Princess Bride to which she said, and I quote, ‘I’m stuck in the fire swamp.’   And now that’s how I’ll feel about children until I maybe, probably won’t have children of my own.  I like the non-committal relationship I have with children today.  I am a GREAT aunt – probably the best aunt but I usually have about an hour of energy in me before Aunt Jenny is like ‘ok, where are your parents?’  Now you’re with them all day everyday – no breaks, no passing Go! and not a playdate in sight.  I don’t know why god is punishing you.  I don’t know why most laundry rooms are downstairs –  it literally makes no sense.

I’ve had a lot of time to think during this quarantine and I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t think I’d be a very good wife.  And let’s preface this with the fact that I haven’t had to answer to anyone in over a decade.  I live a very single lady life – and I don’t mean the unitard, Beyonce life, I mean the I do what I want, when I want Rick James life.  I don’t have a pet, my plants are forming a rebellion against me, I can work from anywhere in the world – if being single were a competition, I’d be a favorite for the gold medal.  I don’t want to have to explain myself to anyone.  I don’t want to justify a single receipt – I don’t want you privy to who I talk to, what I buy, where I am or why I’m ordering food at midnight on a Tuesday.  I’m basically looking for a landlord with benefits.  You know – someone who sorta knows what I’m about in a very distant way but lets me live my life, alerts me when there’s maintenance being done, tapes notes to my door for communication, handles disturbances in the building and only ever expects anything from me once a month.  But from what I understand, that’s not a marriage…so…woof.

Everyone keeps asking how I’m holding up and I want you all to know – me and my sugar-free hard seltzers are doing just fine.  Everything’s pretty normal except my friends and family are more drunk than usual.  I opened a bottle of wine yesterday and without even thinking about it, threw the cork away like the true degenerate I really am.  Is anyone NOT drinking a bottle of wine at a time?  One bottle of wine is my equivalent to a juice pouch and in case anyone’s curious I can bend any proportion size to fit my alcohol soaked narrative – call it a gift.  Remember when I accidentally facetimed my cousin instead of my friend?  ME NEITHER!  Moving forward how about you just let me know if you’re NOT engaged or expecting.  Everybody’s doing it – literally.  And don’t get me wrong, I am so happy for you – I think it’s wonderful you’re now toting your little sex trophies and you’re engaged and you got zoom married and you adopted a puppy…I think it’s all FABULOUS.  Meanwhile, I don’t even know what my prospects look like anymore because MASKS.  Until next time – be cool my babies! …and by that I mean be kind to one another – whether you agree with them or not.  Xx

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