Domestic

Took a tiny siesta to go back to the midwest in the middle of cicada season. Love is love, am I right? I did yard work for the first time in my 37 years and I gotta tell you – domestic life is not for me. And this isn’t because I’m dainty or that I can’t – it’s that I don’t want to. Pulling weeds, lugging branches from here to there, raking, BUGS – no thanks. Not to mention the constant screeching of cicadas that’ll make you believe you’re in an end-of-days film. They’re out there, watching you…just waiting to dive bomb straight into your face. Ugh. I mean if you want to do something for hours and feel like you’ve accomplished nothing – GO RAKE YOUR YARD. Leaves suck. I’ve never had a yard to be responsible for and granted that I am predominantly known for my cactus killing abilities, I think it’s for the best. Then I had the absolute joy of stripping wallpaper which should be a job for people who like to peel other people’s skin. This is a job for you. Go be wallpaper peelers. I consider myself pretty tough but my rotator cuff wants a divorce. Pretty sure I broke my pinky finger. I’ve got cuts and bruises all over me. I’m falling apart at the seams here! In other and yet related news, I found out there are things called tarantula hawks. Giant spider wasps that eat tarantulas, naturally. So I’ll be inside until the end of time.

When I got the airport to head back to LA, there was no line, so I went ahead and checked my bag – I figured ‘why not?’. Waltzed through security. No problem. Got an emergency row seat. Perfection. And that’s when I should have known it was bound to go terribly wrong. I fell asleep on the flight and when I woke up, I realized we were flying in circles. The captain announced that a tornado touched down in Denver Airport and we couldn’t land. After circling for about 30 minutes, the captain then informed us we were going to run out of fuel, so we backtracked to Wichita to fill up. Of course, I showed up to the airport with my phone at 17%. Don’t act surprised. Huge shout out to the couple from Boise sitting next to me who shared their charger with me – bless you times a million. Lifesavers. So we show up to Denver 3 hours late and everyone is all trying to push their way to the front like they’re the only one with a connecting flight…cause America…and selfish. This is the point in the story where I realized I never really minded social distancing at all and, in fact, do not like most people. So I get off the plane and hear ‘final boarding call for flight 2003, the doors will be closing in one minute…’ So I Home Alone it to my gate – cause who needs to use the restroom after 6 hours anyways? – and the gate agent tells me I barely made it and I say, ‘I made it but I doubt my luggage is going to make it’. She just says, ‘it’s not.’ THANKS GINA. I’m the very last one on the plane and everyone is staring daggers at me like I’ve just been lounging at Johnny Rockets snacking on milkshakes. Mind you, I still have to pee but am too scared to ask the man in my aisle to get up again so I just shut up and deal with it. So I finally get home and have to go report my bag missing and she’s like ‘what’s in it so we can identify your bag?’ It’s like when people ask you to spell things over the phone and it’s like uhhhh, K as in komodo dragons, O as in ovaries, D as in dill pickles and the whole time you’re in your head like WHY ARE THESE WORDS COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH?!?! So I’m racking my brain for what’s in my suitcase and I’m like – a purple sparkly straightener…two silver candlesticks ( cause of course they are)…a white shoe full of underwear…a giant silver tray (don’t ask)… Long story short, I got my suitcase back the next day and all of my silver is accounted for and I’m never checking a bag again and people from Boise are amazing and deserve all the waterfalls they reside by.

The couple from Boise informed me that I remind them of their son who they later revealed is too set in his own ways to ever be in a relationship. Not sure how I conveyed that being that I was asleep for 3 hours of the flight. Maybe I should go to Boise to go see about a guy. I felt very understood when someone said, ‘Do I want a boyfriend? Yes. Do I want a relationship? No.’ Someone asked me what I want the other day and it’s like I could tell you what I want right now but that’ll change in an hour. Maybe when somebody finally makes me want to stand still I’ll know. I have a love/hate relationship with online dating as we all know. Sometimes I think I use it as a means of procrastination. I’m about to start swiping right just so I can explain to some of these people why they’re still single. See all these group pictures? They can’t find you because they don’t know you! You think this is Where’s Waldo? I haven’t even met you and you’re already playing games. Why is this a picture of you 300 feet from the camera? What is that doing for me? Mirror selfies? Ugh. Learned the hard way what ENM stands for. I thought it was some type of house music genre blah blah. Turns out, it is NOT music of any kind. I was talking to someone and he’s like ‘yeah me and my primary went camping…’ In my head I’m thinking ‘primary? wtf is he talking about?’ Um, ENM stands for ethically non monogamous. (expressionless face) Of course it does. And now that I know what it is, I see it EVERYWHERE. It’s like – Get out of here. Someone make a dating app for these people. Had to backtrack and explain that I couldn’t read with a little ‘love that life for you’ moment. Hinge likes to match you up with people and say things like ‘we think you two should meet!’ and what I’ve gathered in these pairings is that Hinge has no idea who I am or what I want in the slightest. I do know what love is and it’s waking up to a note on your chest that says ‘There’s cheese stuffed crust pizza in the fridge. I love you’ The end.

Life is hard. I think we can all agree on that. Once you’re past the age of 6, it’s all downhill. I say that with sarcasm and a hint of noble wisdom. Yes, life is beautiful and sexy and wonderful but it’s also a bit bumpy, occasionally devastating and definitely maybe filled with heartache. Dickens put it perfectly, ‘it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.’ We have ups, we have downs. There are days when everything is exquisite and you couldn’t have written it better yourself and then there are days when everything comes crashing down and you wonder how exactly your life became a live action tragedy of Greek proportions. I used to believe in the idea that everything happens for a reason but the older I get I’ve realized sometimes things just happen. Maybe not everything is a lesson or pushing you in the right direction – maybe this whole thing is trial and error. There are moments in life that will put everything into perspective. What’s important and what isn’t becomes very clear. How you’re spending your time and who you’re spending it with is important because the energy you surround yourself with dictates the level of life you live. Don’t waste time pretending things don’t matter cause you never know when it’ll be too late. We all have an expiration date. Some of us just have a better idea of when that is. On that note, beware of tarantula hawks. You’re welcome. I bid you adieu. Xx

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