Causing a commotion,
because they are so awesome…
Hello kittens! I’ve returned safely from my Missoula foray,
and tucked myself into my bed. Things I am currently grateful for: clean
clothes, That Cat, my amazing friends and fruit snacks (not the 100% juice kind,
but the weird gummy cartoon shapes kind). I hope you all take time to notice
the full moon tonight. I got to admire it at eye level while flying over Mount Hood.
You guys, it’s been an incredible and exhausting six days.
I flew back to Missoula for a whole heap of reasons,
including but not limited to missing my family, running an 8K and craving a
Taco del Sol burrito. Also, it was my birthday. Also, I hadn’t seen my family
since July, which is a crazy long time considering children grow faster than
chia pets. They’re closer to becoming real human beings every day! Anyhow, this
particular trip was full of ups and downs, per usual. For your reading
enjoyment I’ve compiled a helpful list of holiday faux pas based on recent
experiences.
Things to avoid:
·
Chewing so vigorously that you chip a tooth.
Seriously, nobody enjoys celery enough to cause permanent dental damage.
·
Consuming back-to-back Thanksgiving dinners (unless
you are spiritually and mentally prepared for extreme agony).
·
Sleeping on a leather couch. You will sweat, and
it will be disconcertingly sticky.
·
Attempting to equally divide your time and
attention between three siblings. Just don’t. You will fail.
·
Laughing when one little brother sprints across
the room to throw an elbow into another little brother’s face for calling him a
“poopy”. I know I shouldn’t condone sibling-to-sibling violence, but holy shit
guys.
·
Crying during Twilight: Breaking Dawn, Pt 2. Not
once, but several times.
·
Blaming aforementioned tears on K-Stew’s face
rather than admitting you wish your ex-girlfriend was holding your hand. Except
replace “holding your hand” with “being in love with you” and you’re closer to
the truth.
·
Expecting your friends to be enthralled by any
story containing the words “Netflix”, “kale” or “obese dachshund”.
·
Planning a 10am breakfast the night after your
friends get tanked in celebration of your birth (and also pursuit of throbbing man
parts. Gross). Should you fail to observe this suggestion, you will probably
spend three or more hours at Uptown Diner.
[Sidenote: pineapple milkshake equals
breakfast. Always]
Let’s get real for a minute, ok? I want to thank you all for
an incredible week. Thank you for Nertz and homemade stuffing and Baby it’s cold outside… Thank you for
leaving the proof out of the pudding. Thank you for hitting the high notes, and
reminding me sometimes it’s necessary to dance crazy around the living room. Any
living room. Thank you for laughing at my puns, and listening to my boring
stories and holding me or not holding me while I cried, or didn’t cry but
wanted to. Thank you for extra jackets. Thank you for elephant love medley and
three rounds of pool. Thank you for macaroni and cheese. Thank you for the
Worst Day Ever and the knowledge that today is not That Day and tomorrow
probably won’t be either.
Today I turned twenty-four and last night (between
serenading me and complimenting my muscles) my friend asked what my birthday
poem would look like. This is what I came up with.
Lessons from my 24th
Birthday
(A Poem for Magingo)
1. Don’t ask questions, just dance.
When the music is playing, it’s playing just for you. Close your eyes. Feel the
sound pound through your outstretched fingertips. Join the spinning of the
world like a double dutch champion. Don’t be afraid. Jump in. The music is
playing just for you.
2. Let yourself be loved. Cover
yourself in layers of love like thick winter coats. Drape it across the holes in your
self-esteem. Let it sink in: there will always be people to love you. Let them.
3. Sometimes the spotlight will
just be the flash on a camera. Embrace it like the sun. Let it warm you from
the inside. The pictures may be blurry, but they are lovely in the way only
true things are lovely. You are lovely in a way that makes me believe in Truth.
4. Etch memories into your mind
like names and dates scrawled across the tabletop of your favorite booth in
your hometown bar. Carry the scars of your pleasure as proudly as your pain.
Both are a badge of honor.
5. Sing every song in your
repertoire. Sing with every muscle in your body, even when there’s no music.
Especially when there’s no music. You are the music. There are symphonies in
your bloodstream. There is a percussionist in your chest. Life only has a
musical finale when you open your mouth to sing. Always sing.
This time last year I considered sleeping in the snowbank because I didn't think you'd miss me. This time last year I chased three beers
with two Bloody Mary’s, chased two Bloody Mary’s with a bottle of blackberry
brandy and met my family for a matinee I wouldn’t remember. This time last year
I was lying in my bed, afraid to fall asleep because my heart was doing
somersaults and I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking.
365 days of learning later I am in my bed, in my city and
for the first time in a long time I feel fully present in this imperfect skin.
And I know in three or 30 or 365 days I will be able to come home again; to love and
be loved in a way that makes the heavies disappear for a little while. Even if it is at Deejo's expense...
I adore you all so much I could burst! Sleep well,
dreamweavers.
-b
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