“Scissors mishap, air show disaster, chinese organ thieves; it’s a dangerous world.”

reset count

I’m recovering from a meltdown.  An airshow (and the practice leading up to it) shut me down like an off switch.  Bose QC35 noise-canceling headphones, worn from sunup to sundown, couldn’t shield me from the ridiculous pilot shenanigans; she said, acidly.  I was in air defense units for several years of my military career.  I’ve been vigilant of the sky ever since as if programmed to assume watch whenever outdoors.  It wasn’t part of my specialty, but I had the opportunity to witness, and a few times, (range) fire all of the Army’s air defense weaponry.  Cherished experiences.

I don’t worry about war, as many do.  America has been at war my entire life, and likely yours.  I have a tremendous amount of faith in our military from experiencing it firsthand.  I paid for this comfort with sweat, tears, and anxiety that too often manifested as inopportune hurling for distance.  (Raising fist in solidarity with anyone who has ever been beaten up for accidentally barfing on someone.)  It was worth it.  Plus, I had access to a lot of cool shit a decade before civilians; (like email.)  I just deleted a whole paragraph about the old days.  You’re welcome. 🙃

I’m hoping to regain my ability to speak aloud today.  I’m confident Solange’s A Seat at the Table on repeat will draw out my voice.  Music’s power over my neurology and mood astonishes and delights me.  It’s my favorite survival tool.  When I can’t talk, I tend to stop communicating altogether.  People are especially dangerous at these times, so it’s isolation without my consent.  When I recover basic functionality, I may enjoy solitude a little too much.  The rock I used to dwell beneath sends such warm invitations.  (In my head, Stevie Nicks clears her throat, then burns them while making eye contact.)  No worries on that front.  Heh.

I’m off to start wrapping my head around a mini-vacation this weekend.  Good thing I like obsessively planning for shit.  😂✌🏾💜

“I don’t even really work here!”

 

Dragon hint

A Black Lady Sketch Show on HBO is my new favorite show.  I’ve been streaming it like it’s Homecoming by Beyoncé.  I’m an okay bitch with autism, yo.  (Flutters my bald eyelashes.)  HBO is still the only network that can tell me where to be and when; (so bossy.) 😉  I hope they have Wanda Sykes and Whoopie Goldberg on there at some point. (And Regina King, Ellen Cleghorne, Aisha Tyler, and so many more.) 😆

I’m going to stream it again after this.  Heh.  I keep wanting to talk about Solange, but words don’t work here.  It would be a post of me typing Solange over and over again while grinning like a doof.  (You have no idea how close I came to doing just that.) At least it would feel kind of like expressing my joy for her existence.  Sigh.

Solange isn’t just the newest member of my Healing Sisters Internal Advisory Panel (HSIAP via music.)  She’s the boss.  In my head, she walked right up to Stevie Nicks, Amy Lee, Agnetha Faltzkog, Sheryl Crow, Mary J. Blige, (there’s more) and Beyoncé, and said, can I hold the mic, please?  (All signs indicate Solange won’t be giving it back any time soon.)  She skipped trying to reach me with mere lyrics and went right for my spirit.  😳🤭

Solange When I Get Home Vinyl

Solange has been here before.  Her music.  Nobody who only lived that long for the first time can do that, yo.  That’s the best I can articulate.  (And yes, I’m working on it.)  I know a lot of other artists are popping right now, but frankly, Solange practically owns my ears at this time.  Aside from Brown Skin Girl, of course.  That song is on repeat whenever I’m not listening to Solange’s When I Get Home.  Everything else is on pause.

I’m getting ready for a solo road trip north.  My sister needs me, and she’s the one person left on this planet who has mom-like powers over me.  (Otherwise, oh hell no.)  It’s a big deal for me to drive five hours in a single day with ridiculously monotonous scenery.  I’ve done it before, but not often.  To go from that challenge immediately to being in someone else’s space to offer my services as a sister is bigger.

My spirit stirred me to do it, which is something I haven’t wrapped my head around yet.  (I don’t think I would have even picked up on it if not for Dr. Keia mentioning these things happen.)  Hence, running with it.  My sister knows me well enough to avoid hinting since it’s futile with me.  (Tell me what you mean, or disappointment will ensue.) It’s time to stretch my more healed self and flex my growth.  I’m terrified, but I’m going to do it anyway.

open road

When I get home (heh), I’m going to Denver for a mini recreational vacation.  Guitar Hero is going to buddy-sit while I transform from a nodder who never makes eye contact into someone who suddenly uses gestures, looks at people, and won’t STFU for an hour after two hits.  He finds it amusing and claims it’s like hanging out with my anime version.  (Possibly said animated, but I like anime better.) Enough oversharing.  I’m off to belly laugh over my new favorite show. 💜✌🏽

“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.  💜✌🏽

“Now, what are you going to do about my Twix?”

water droplet

Congratulations go out to Stevie Nicks and Janet Jackson; both inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  Stevie Nicks is now the first woman to be inducted twice.  Legendary, yo.  Watching her perform live was a bucket list moment for me.  I immediately put it back on the list, too.  (Please, sir.  I want some more.)  Fran recently put me on to Solange Knowles during The Friend Zone podcast, and I’m hooked whooked. 😆

I watched all the existing episodes of One Strange Rock on Netflix, recently.  It’s Will Smith hosting a show where eight astronauts talk about their experiences in space.  In doing so, they teach a lot about the earth and our universe.  It’s fabulous.  I watch documentaries often, but I learned some life-changing information that never once crossed my mind while watching and pondering.

I’m not ready to talk about it yet.  I need more time to process and translate into words.  I think everyone should see it.  It broadened my perspective in a manner that accepts the universe in all her glory.  It reminds me of Game of Thrones when Maester Aemon says, “Kill the boy and let the man be born.”  I feel a bit long in the tooth compared to Jon Snow, but it’s all relative, eh?  🤣

person in cave looking out

I’ve almost finished with my second viewing of HBO’s Westworld (seasons 1-2.)  I’m so impressed by it.  The attention to detail is astonishing.  The performances are excellent cast-wide.  The delivery of historically-accurate, and thus, often campy dialogue in a completely believable manner by so many actors is fabulous.  The costumes!  The production; as meticulously crafted as the world it portrays.  I’m so proud of the people who work on it.  It’s a shiny gem.  And that doesn’t even include the soundtrack, which is a significant part of the storytelling process.  Chills!

I had a scary low cognitive abilities day, recently.  I think I triggered it accidentally by blundering into a Chasm of Fascination.  I only meant to peek in, but I fell head first.  (I’m safely distant from the edge now.  Whew.)  Dimensional space speculation is dangerous ground for me.  I got deep in thought, and after several hours, I felt a bit stuck.  Then I panicked and tried to shift to practicing guitar.  Sadly, I merely held my guitar for a few hours while I thought more about dimensional space.

To function while in this state, I have to talk myself through everything.  To get a drink of water, I have to chant aloud, drink water, or I’ll lose a few more hours halfway through the process of fetching it.  It’s like being stuck between two worlds while trying to pay attention to both at the same time.  It takes all available resources to perform the simplest tasks.  These are the times when Amelia Bedelia is more service animal than companion pet.  She’ll persistently demand my presence until I claw my way back, (and she knows when I’m faking it with autopilot.)  I give her a treat each time.

I’m back to typical, today, but I’m still a bit disoriented time-wise.  It seems like this should be Friday, not Sunday.  (I believe the consensus regarding treatment for time disorientation is to tell someone about it. 👍🏽)  Shrill on Hulu is a super fun binge.  I can’t wait till they add more.  I’m off to read.  💜✌🏽