“You told Nana to drop dead!”

Beautiful cake with a unicorn on top

Thank you, HBO.  The documentary was a delightful surprise.  The Night King is even cooler IRL.  Now I’m not only lovingly obsessed with the main cast of Thrones, but I also have a massive crush on Andrew McClay, Loyal Stark Man, First of His Name.  (I know.  Who doesn’t?)  He oozed masculinity while simultaneously flexing enough security in his selfhood to cry openly as his Dream Job transformed into The Best Memory Ever.  (That’s some Will Smith-level shit, yo.) 🥰

Emelia Clarke blew my mind with her old soul.  I love her.  I know I love virtually every actor on Game of Thrones, but listen;  It was an event so epic I feel privileged just to have been allowed to view it (in my safe place.)  So many people with mad skills got together and smashed our expectations concerning television forever.  The bar is so high now it’s ridic.  (And we still whinged, but The Internet is a preteen, so please forgive us.) 😔🤭😍

Thank you all for giving us everything you had, and a little more on top.  You. Did. That. Shit.  You breathed a part of yourselves into fictional characters and brought them to life.  They’re now a part of our life story.  We’ll never forget these beautifully human people who won our hearts.  And dragons!!!  (If More Evil Chucky has a tantrum and only a small number of humans survive to carry on the human race, you can bet one of the stories told around the fire will be Game of Thrones.  Just saying.)  Did. That. Shit.  I’m so proud of you all. 💜

p.s.  Remember Daario Naharis #1? I hope he recovers from the universe jangling his jewels.  Would be cool if he popped up in one of the spinoffs. 👍🏽

“I just didn’t have them back then.”

shipping containers

I’m having a fantastic week.  A few days ago, I watched Wanda Sykes’ Not Normal on Netflix.  (Cut to me grinning through tears when I found it on my home screen.) 😭🥰😆🙃 Watching was like getting a Prozac infusion while eating Jade-approved yellow cake.  I laughed so hard I’m surprised I didn’t get a noise complaint.  Especially since it involved a bit of involuntary running about, standing up like my seat was on fire, and hollering at the TV.

It’s just that Wanda Sykes is The Comedian Who Made Me Laugh So Hard I Hurled.  She knows how to make all my bones spontaneously turn into jelly.  She casually (and scientifically) explained everything I need to know about menopause (while I was winding down from ugly laughing.)  It all makes sense, now. 🤔👍🏽  Humans are even more incredible than I thought. 🤯🙃

Just when I discerned I’ve been playing a discreet version of Hot Lava, with my bed as the safe zone, Wanda Sykes pops up and says, hey, girl, it’s going to be okay. 🥰  (Oofda, I needed that.)  I finally got to compare notes with a woman who was also interracially adopted, recently.  It was fascinating, and my mom is now even more awesome than I knew.  She did things I didn’t realize at the time were so thoughtful and brilliant.  I’m so proud of her.

black hair

 

For example, she hired local university students to socialize with Heather and me when we were little.  (The only other black people we knew of at that time were Gary Coleman, Todd Bridges, Janet Jackson, and Kim Fields.)  My mom sensed we needed to meet black people who weren’t on TV.  I have fond memories of slumber parties in the dorms at Augustana with young women from all sorts of places that weren’t South Dakota.

We got our hair braided.  We went to concerts, plays, and sporting events with our new big sisters.  They invited us to their homes on school breaks in other states.  We visited a church with all black people, (and I wept uncontrollably from the moment we entered until a woman caught the spirit and started convulsing on the floor, and I ran over and hugged her and wouldn’t let go until I was pried off.)  I thought she needed holding, and the idea of not acting on it terrified me.  Heh.

As I’m sure you’ve imagined, Heather’s version of that event was a lot more detailed, protracted, and (evidently) hilarious.  (Recalling it was one of her favorite ways to shut me down for years afterward.)  😂 Remember that time we went to that church?  🤭 I can laugh about it soon.  Also, the convulsing woman hugged me back, so I knew she was okay, and I held on because I had so much to say to her, and no words.  Here’s a secret:  In my spirit, that hug was an I love you to my culture, and I never let go. 💜✌🏽

“What was a man with a cape doing with my father?”

flower pots around an entry

No Game of Thrones, I promise.  Heh.  I’ve been hanging out with Amy Poehler (as Leslie Knope, and in ((thank you, the universe!!!)) the movie, Wine Country, now streaming on Netflix.)  I’m binging the entire series of Parks and Recreation, presently.  (The scene where Retta loses her shit over someone shooting her Mercedes wrecked me for at least 30 minutes.) 🤣

I’m spending lots of time listening to Solange’s latest album.  Solange quickly went from Beyoncè’s sister to the second artist whose music wraps around my soul and rocks me until all the pain I carry stops hurting, and I can catch my breath.  (Amy Lee is the other.)  I’m tripping because I’m so blessed to have two.  Yay!  (Thanks, Fran! 💜)

the nerve

I’m having a weirdly beautiful day.  (I don’t have bad days, ever since I realized I get to decide.)  I made several mistakes related to common sense, this morning.  It’s just that in my case, common sense often means commonly expressed by someone barely suppressing a strong urge to slap me senseless.  Whoops.

I’ve arrived at that age where I recognize I’m doing tech wrong.  I’m the auntie whom the cool kid’s meme about when they compare notes.  (And I laugh along because even though I don’t get the joke, I love laughing.) I upgraded to the iPhone XR.  In the process of moving my data and learning the phone, I failed to activate the new one before boxing up the old (for shipping.)

cool kids

I found out about my error when my groceries didn’t show up during the designated delivery window.  I had to unbox the old phone while in a chat with customer service, where we walked through the process of activation step-by-step, hand held.  I’m a geek. (This event made my inner selves, ages 5-27, fall to the floor and weep with indulgent shame.)

I suppose outgrowing geek pride (see what I did there?) is alright.  Still flexing, because yes, I do have some nerve.  🙃 So far, the most challenging thing about being an auntie is refraining from perpetually gushing over friends, artists, and my favorite millennials who happen to create podcasts for which I live.

I know my love and enthusiasm for people who fascinate me can get annoying to those who don’t share my perspective, so I hold back.  (Mostly because I don’t want the subjects of my adoration to block me IRL.)  Plus, I have auntie instincts, all of a sudden.  (They help guide me away from sending Shit From Some Random Auntie -SFSRA, that could probably only confuse.)  So, there’s that.  👍🏽 I’m off to beat my drums with sticks.  💜✌🏽

“I choose not to run.”

Here be dragons

Warning:  There will be spoilers.

 

We’ve almost made it to the end of Game of Thrones.  What a journey!  I was exhausted, emotionally wrecked, and drenched in sweat after viewing the latest episode.  While spending 90+ minutes completely immersed in the horrors of war,  I forgot I was watching a TV show.

I was Arya Stark, chased through a city being systematically destroyed by dragon fire.  I almost died a thousand times, but it was nothing compared to witnessing the horrific deaths of so many around me.  I learned vengeance is indistinguishable from tyranny.

Sandor, thank you.  -Arya Stark

masks

I was Cersei Lannister, watching the world end to the beat of my unraveling denial.  As my defenses crumbled around me, the fear overwhelmed me, making my heart shake.  I died in the arms of the only person who truly understood me; loved me.  Finally, free of the terror that’s owned me since my mother was taken from me.

Everywhere in the world, they hurt little girls.  -Cersei Lannister

I was Sandor Clegane, confronting what remained of the man who failed me as a brother.  Blow after blow of hate-fueled rage, honed over a lifetime, against a mountain of evil.  My only remaining purpose to remove this towering hunk of rotting flesh from the world.  Convinced it’s all I ever wanted, I succeed and we both burn.  Victory is mine.

Do it.  Do it!  Just do it!  -Sandor Clegane/The Hound

I was Daenerys Targaryen, alone, distraught, and betrayed.  I wept as I lay waste to King’s Landing.  I felt everything and nothing at the same time.  I burned away the disease so healthy life can grow and thrive in the future.  If I can’t have their love, I’ll take their fear.

I am not your little princess.  I am Daenerys Stormborn of the blood of old Valyria and I will take what is mine, with fire and blood I will take it.  -Daenerys Targaryen

light dancing

When the episode ended, I couldn’t move.  I just sat there, stunned.  (Then I laughed at myself for confusing SD winter with a cessation of hot flashes.  Probably where most of the sweating came from.)  I had to sleep on it, then think about it for a while before I could process what happened.  I’m sure I’ll continue long after the series ends.

I’ve learned a great deal about human nature watching the series.  We’re all in the story in some aspect or form.  It has been fascinating to slowly gain enough information about each character until I could understand them well enough to see the world through their eyes (to a point.)

The emotional rollercoaster of triggers and disturbing scenes were a small price to pay for the many gifts of wisdom.  We tend to behave in accordance with our perception of the world.  Therein lies the value in understanding others’ viewpoints.  Without it, people are indistinguishable from monsters.

Do you lie awake at night fearing my gash? – Lord Varys

✌🏽💜

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

umbrella ella ella eh eh eh

I’m thinking about my mom a lot, of late.  The upcoming holiday adverts have likely penetrated my thoughts.  I have so many memories of my mom.  A part of her exists in my head now.  Often, I hear her comments in my mind.

I have what I refer to as the Greatest Hits collection.  It includes things she would often say, such as, “I’m the mom; you’re the child.”  (I’m a wee bit embarrassed by how much convincing I needed on that point.)  I accepted I wasn’t in charge, eventually, but never that I was a child.  Fortunately, the temporary nature made it moot.  🙃

I remember the horrible, awful way it felt when I first realized my mom was human, and therefore, imperfect.  (Cut to me at age six, on the phone with 911, reporting my mom for lying.)  It felt like being yanked up and back at high speed with no warning by an invisible force; resulting in utter disorientation in the universe.  The same way it felt when she died.

mother

It wasn’t the first time I lost a loved one.  I was still reeling from the loss of my brother, a year prior.  I honestly didn’t know it was possible to continue existing after losing my mom.  How the hell could I walk when there was no longer a ground?

There’s no way to prepare in advance for the loss of a parent.  When it happens, you fall apart.  Part of the foundation of your existence is gone.  You have to figure out how to rebuild it from within.  It sucks.  It’s hard.  All I know is it helps to become your parent (to yourself,) taking over the role your parent once fulfilled.

I usually know what my mom would say or do in a situation.  She’s still an influential guide in my life.  I now have a reinforced foundation built of the many things my mom taught me when she was here.  It also consists of applied lessons gifted from others who helped shape who I’ve become.

Happy Mothers Day

I’m grateful I had her as long as I did.  It’s funny how I used to resent her for knowing me better than I knew myself.  I thought it was the peak of audacity when I was a teenager.  😂 I can still remember the sound of my mom laughing hard.  It’s one of my best treasures.  I’m off to read ✌🏽💜