Day 11 of Whole30 and what I wouldn’t give to smash my face into a magnum bottle of malbec right now. Or a merlot soaked gouda. Or a cupcake. Or a candy apple covered in fruity pebbles. Is it candy or candied? Who cares. My mouth is legit watering. The amount of times I’ve murmured ‘I want goat cheese’ in the last week is at a catastrophic level. I would eat goat cheese with anything at this point. Goat cheese on a dill pickle? Sign me up. Goat cheese and… see, I can’t even think of anything else it wouldn’t be delicious with. It’s the PERFECT CHEESE. I’ll take it by the spoonful, yes please. I have also spent the large majority of the past week wondering what autocorrect would look like if they were a person. So as you can tell, I’m doing fine over here. Totally normal. Just daydreaming about cheese and fictitious characters living inside of my electronics while screaming at my TV when watching hockey…gotta keep up with the neighbors somehow right?
Speaking of my neighbors… Well, well, well I FINALLY met my nemesis in the laundry room this morning and she’s all like – “HI! I’m Aura! I’m in 17, are you new?” I kinda froze and then had one of those moments where I wasn’t sure if I was hiding my true feelings or not because…well…because I’m me and controlling my facial expressions is not something I do very well if at all. I played it cool when all I wanted to do was scream her towards a wall and be like – NEW?! I have lived here in perfect (strong word but go with it) BLISS for a DECADE till you moved in with all your abusive circus sex and day-rave extravaganzas upstairs! And PLEASE pray tell, cause I’m on the EDGE OF MY OTTOMAN, what exactly – very specifically – goes on up there?! I NEED TO KNOW because I feel like I live below a NASA LAUNCH STATION sponsored by waterbeds and Durex in HOT-LANTA!!!…but no, no, instead I smiled and was my polite midwestern self and did my part in not contributing to the saga of a drama that is 2020. And the thing that really killed me, to an annoyingly high degree, is that she’s actually excruciatingly nice. Like ‘disney princess, I feed baby birds in a nest outside of my window every morning and donate my hair to locks of love’ sweet. Ugh. DAMMIT. She even went on and on about how much she likes my name and I’m thinking ‘is she trying to fuck with me?’ Cause let’s be real, I was named Jennifer…in the 80s. It’s not that monumental. (LOVE YOU, MA!) …10 hours later, no joke, she JUST got home with another RANDO in HEELS. HEELS!! In quarantine for Christ’s sake! Lord, if I get COVID because of her antics…
My social life consists of grocery stores and mountain tops lately. In fact, I climbed a mountain this week not even knowing what it was. When I got to the top, I asked and was told I just hiked Mount Baldy. I was like WHAT?! I DID?! That’s on my bucket list! And that’s what’s fun about me – I’ll go on an adventure having no idea where the road leads, I’m just happy to be on it. On the other hand it’s terrifying because I rarely know where I am. We were at the top and these dudes were doing pushups, it’s like – seriously? What a weird flex. WE GET IT. YOU’RE INTO FITNESS. Easy on the Pepsi, huh? I do have a suggestion for mountain tops, for any of them reading this: please install potato sack slides. Thank you. It was a beautiful day, I maybe got sunburnt and didn’t even care. I was so happy and I felt so accomplished and magical and then I got home and a homeless man pulled his dick out on me. Ugh. Welcome back to Hollywood. The scale of emotions I go through in a day are truly something.
The grocery story has become an outing anymore. It’s the quarantine version of clubbing honestly. Instead of ‘oh, we like the same music?’, it’s ‘oh, we like the same pasta sauce’. So.much.in.common. Let’s date and fall in love and be glorious until you realize you hate the way I fold t-shirts but mostly how I breathe. Don’t you wish you could see the way it all ends and THEN decide how to feel? What a gift that would be. You could gauge the good times v the bad times, the pros and the cons. ‘Sorry I’ve seen how this ends and it’s gonna be a no for me, Brad. Luke, listen, this thing ends in SHAMBLES, but I’m here for it, let’s do this! Hey, back off Todd, I’ve done an analysis and unless you want to experience the most awkward Christmas of your life, move along. Would have been a fun couple months but trust me, I’m doing us a favor. You’re welcome’. OR…is it really better to have loved and lost? Deep thoughts on a Thursday for ya. Also, can we discuss endive? Am I the only person in LA who buys endive? The the cashier can never find the code and then the line stacks up and then everyone is all like – what’s this B buying? It took such a turn last time, the woman was like, “just take them!” and threw them into my bag like contraband. And that’s how I get free endive. Don’t tell me there’s no winning in quarantine.
Day elenty-thousand of quarantine and 90% of my calls are from Viking Cruises. NOBODY WANTS TO GO ON A CRUISE RIGHT NOW OR MAYBE EVER AGAIN, JANICE! I will say, I have contemplated flying to Greece and staying on a tiny island where I can write and swim until the world is back on its feet again. I’ve actually considered a lot of things and I have the 63 open tabs on my browser to prove it. It’s a perfect illustration of how my mind works. Tame my mind – I dare you. I have created quite the to-do list this summer. I wanna be in a room of spraying champagne. I want to go to Club 33. I want a cabinet of linen sheets. I wanna be caught in the pouring rain – when it’s unexpected and inconvenient. I want to take a bat to a window. I want an on call masseuse. I want to go to Vietnam, Hormuz Island in Iran, the Galapagos Islands, Bora Bora and Sicily. I HAVE TO GET TO ICELAND AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I want to run around in the forest with a bow and arrows like some mythical character that could only be dreamt up by Tolkien. I also want simple things like a bedroom, a lemon squeezer, a potato masher and love – the real kind that makes you breathe differently, that gives you hope, that makes you feel safe, that’s yours and yours alone. I also want to be left alone and wild. I’m a real paradox of a conundrum. Been with her for 37 years and she still surprises me.
So yeah, a lack of sugar is really doing wonders for my mind but she’s so entertaining I’ve never once thought to tell her to shut up. She keeps me on my toes I suppose. I also imagine this is the part of the blog where my brother rolls his eyes and murmurs something like ‘here she goes again’. He does that when I get all whimsy and introspective. I digress… In conclusion, Dear Blues – can you get your shit together? PLEASE?! And to the officials – LET EM PLAY! What is this?! Amateur hour?! I also think it’s important to share that I just replied to an email, ‘if you wait till 2023 it’ll be my 40th’…on that note, I’m going to go cry in a corner. I hope you enjoyed this pinball machine of thoughts today. Until next time…xx
OH! – a huge shout out and waterfall of beer confetti filled left-handed HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my big brother. I’m sorry the Blues lost on your birthday. I had a video chat with them this AM. They apologized. They were going to send you a case of Bud Select but then Binny ended the call in the middle of me giving them your address so…no promises. Also, whenever I hear a windbreaker swish along, I think of you. Love you tons – can’t wait to share drinks again! Cheers to you old man!!
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