the math--6 days, 6 flights, 1 tired girl

How lucky am I?
Last week I caught a flight to New Orleans, drank screwdrivers with some kids going to their friend's wedding (our row turned into such a party that the flight attendants brought free drinks--fuck yeah United!), landed at 11.30pm, and within the hour was drinking a monsoon with friends.
We slept in Friday, they went off to their conference, and I wandered the city, refreshing myself with cafe au lait and beignets, checking out new and old clubs along Frenchman street, hydrating with frozen lemonade, and finishing the afternoon with art galleries and a vigorous massage. That night we dined in a charming courtyard and then a new friend and I spent the rest of the evening listening to brass jazz bands, dodging sailors (it was fleet week!) and chatting up friendly New Orleanians (heard of a she-nis? neither had we).
The next day it was off to Florida, via Houston (fuck no, United). Thunderstorms delayed me a few hours but I made it to Tampa before sunset, saying hello to a good friend and heading for a UT hangout for dogs, tots and a pitcher of Sam Adams. We spent the next few days in and around St Pete's, hitting up a classic diner for a gut-busting breakfast, heading to a nearby state park for a five-hour hike, gator jerky, a boar sighting and a most refreshing cigar-and-rum break, chilling at a backyard bbq, and an impromptu drum circle on our apartment's sunny verandah, all of it fueled by tequila, rum, Dos-with-lime, and a can of RedBull.
Tuesday came much too soon.
I'm still bad at good-byes.
I want more hello's.

toodles

Bubbles.
Toodles.
Back inna bit.

near miss

Walking to my bus stop the other morning, I heard tires screech and a honk. I looked up to see a girl in the nearby crosswalk just as she seemed to notice that she had walked in front of a car. She threw her arms up, laughing, and ran out of the crosswalk. We made eye contact and I saw that she was a skater for Derby Liberation Front. I said something like That was close and she punched the air, victorious, and yelled "I survived! I'm alive!" and I smiled all the way to my bus stop.
*
Yesterday I had my own near miss, up too early and texting and jaywalking, on my way to meet a friend. A honk, and a Prius glided to a halt in the crosswalk in front of me. I looked up absently, waiting for the car to move. The rear window rolled down. A woman yelled from the driver's seat, "I almost hit you!" I stared at her. It hadn't seemed like that much of a close call. "I almost hit you!" she screamed again. For some reason, her fury made me smile. "You can calm down now," I said, bemused, and she glided away, somehow enraged that I wasn't quivering from my brush with near-death.

you belong

Well this is interesting: Clara Barton and the "thin black snakes" of depression.
*
I watched The Jerk last nite with a pal. This scene is so lovely and funny and absurd, but mostly lovely.

the minus

Today's blog post brought to you by the word: loss
Yes, I said it. Wrote it. Whatever.
People don't like to talk out loud about loss. It's a separator. Because, what if you're alone?
I'm a loner, I admit that. There's stuff I gotta and wanna do by myself. But I want to be a loner  by choice.
I want to have friends. I want to feel wanted and loved and even cherished (corny, I know!).
My shrink observes that I've suffered a lot of loss. My mom, my beloved grandpa. An absconded father. A divorce. Some friends have gone away into relationships. I hope it's temporary. I love them still of course; there's also this feeling that my friendship was kind of a time-killer until someone more important came along. It's the way things roll but it still makes me sad.
*
But guess what? My grandma always calls me darling and says how much she loves me. She's supposed to do that, I guess. Part of the grandma job description. But I tell you what, each time she says these things it's a verbal hug and I feel good inside, warm and a little misty.
*
Okay now watch this. Super NSFW but damn funny:

A Q for which I have no A

Why is it nobody, not even my shrink, believes me when I tell the truth?