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© 2004-2008 Linda Escaip
"I may be grumpy, but I like you."
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The Suns and Moons of the Grumpiest Girl in the Room.
Welcome to my journal, starry-puff.
Rearranging The Sky 06-April-2006
You know that 1982 song "It's Raining Men" by The Weather Girls?
I recently downloaded that beauty from iTunes. Is it OK that I like to replace the hallelujah with motherfucker? Because I really do enjoy that. And honestly, I don't want it to rain men. No offense or anything; I don't want it to rain women either. It's already far too crowded where I live as it is. People are honking in their sleep.
I guess I didn't pay much attention to the lyrics back then; probably only knew the "it's raining men" part of it. And apparently I carried inside my memory no recollection of the beginning of that tune, because earlier while I was out walking, the opening bit of thunder (right before the girls each say "Hi!") scared the living shit out of me. I probably gasped and undoubtedly put my hand over my heart, because I have somehow become somebody's very dramatic mother. These things just happen, you realize.
So, on my walk beneath the stars, I really listened to those lyrics, which I don't believe any woman would have ever written, no matter how straight she happened to be. Seriously, introduce me to a woman who would write this:
It's a gay man's song, written by and for men who love men. Tell me I'm wrong about this. Imagine you're a heterosexual woman, and you've got the television tuned to the Weather Channel one night as you count your seashell collection, because last night's count may have been a miscount due to that extra glass of wine. You hear one of the weather experts make the announcement that tonight around 10:30 for the very first time ever, it will start raining men. Does this excite you in a good way? Does it make you want to leave your umbrella at home, as suggested by the same weather experts? Does it make you want to "rip off the roof and stay in bed"? I'm telling you, no matter how much she might love men, no self-respecting woman would have written those lyrics. Sure, you can find a few (countless) dames to sing a tune like that for the big dollars, but that's another story, bub.
I am presently having a difficult time for a few different reasons. But this really is life, you know? There have been days where I have been certain the lingering sweetness would cure everything that ails me, and that it would spill over and land on each subsequent day of my life, saturating every second on the clock. And I've lived days that felt heavy and dark and steeped in thick disappointment. And all of this changes. One moment of feeling defeated and blotted out greets the next point in time, which might very likely find me smiling.
The other morning, I awoke to the dreaded thought that my life was over. A few minutes later while walking into another room, the light streaming in through the window made me want to kiss the sun. Even the thinnest ray of sunlight carries within it such hopefulness and assurance. And I was left feeling grateful for something I usually take for granted. I love how gratitude will wash over me in the sweetest, softest way just when I think I am falling down. Merciful and unexpected, like tenderness from a stranger.
You know that dream where you're trying to run from something, but your feet won't touch the ground? I think maybe we have that dream to remind us that we're not meant to run from anything. Fear will get you, it really will, if you let it. It will get you quicker and with more force than whatever it is you're fearing. It will suck up your minutes and hours and dreams and hopes and everything you counted on. Fear will steal you blind. I know this for a fact.
And while the time is irreplaceable, the dreams can be retrieved; the reason being that they belong to you. There is a homing device attached to every hope or dream you ever conjured up inside that heart of yours. Not even despair can wipe them out. But to get back in touch with them you have to stop believing in what you fear. It's as simple and as difficult as that.
My walk was glorious. I have memorized the stars. I can count on them and this comforts me. But when I am blue, I wish for other stars; the ones I don't recognize. It is during the low points of my life that I feel the strongest desire for change, and I guess the change I want to experience in my own life bleeds onto the universe, where I hope to see something new there as well. But when you change yourself, you do change your world. I'll let you know when I see a star that I've just met for the first time.
Here's a picture of the third day of spring, the way it looked in my world.
Quote From My World
"You know you've been through some shit when the end of the world starts looking good to you."
Well, I'm off to select a wig for tonight's festivities. Someone lovely brought us some of her homemade peanut butter fudge, and I am going to make love to several pieces of that wonderful stuff tonight while My Love and I watch Brokeback Mountain. I like to plan my evenings, which I call parties. Little parties everywhere. And I might even have a Hot Toddy, a drink I have lovingly renamed Hot Rhoda, mostly because Rhoda is hotter than Toddy. And I love Rhoda. Thanks for reading.
Linda
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