it’s no secret that I’ve been a bit of a hermit over the last year. I’m not entirely sure why that is so, but I know that my intolerance for discomfort is largely at play and the stupidly extreme, unpredictable weather patterns don’t help. I just need to be some place that doesn’t dip past -10 C or above 25 C and fuck the fucking humidex. I’ve also come to appreciate home more. I had a lovely love placate my angsty heart not too long ago by saying “why wouldn’t you want to be at home? you pay most of your monies for that home. all of your toys are there. it’s HOME.” and yes. it is home and I’ve been devoting a hell of a lot of brain space to it, but that’s another post for another time.
somehow, though, social media is my knight in shining social butterfly armour. in the last little while, I’ve had a number of friends use it to reach out and let me know that I’m missed or new friends reach out to say “hey, let’s do a thing because I’d like to get to know you better!” and how cool is that? how nice is it to be missed or thought of?
it is very, very nice.
last night the mister and I went to function at the home of a very talented new artist friend and holy hell, did my ego get buffed. I ran into some folks I hadn’t seen in a very long time and was greeted with hugs and love and genuine “I’ve MISSED you!” and I got to know new artist friend better and have her pass along some love from another new friend about how and who I am in my writing style and was asked by another new friend to scope some music he’s written and offer up some lyrics to go with it.
like, dudes, these people barely know me, but are entrusting me with everything from helping them create an online presence for their various endeavors to writing songs with them.
my mind is blown.
I’m totally gloating right now.
I’m not even sorry.
I am not good at malls, but I’d been dragging my heels on picking up some basics like tanks and lady-shaped tees and such for so long that my poor mister was probably ready to call it quits the next time I said “ugh. I have nothing to weeeeeeear!” and that meant heading to The Mall (we have but one, really)
I don’t panic or anything when it comes to malls. I actually did have a wee panic attack as I was prepping my bath because there was an itty bitty spider in it and the panic wasn’t because I dislike spiders, but because I didn’t want the poor thing to die in my tub and I couldn’t catch it as it just balled up, readying its self for its demise in a sea of curly hair and artisanal soap and pumiced off flesh. I daresay the poor critter likely did meet such a demise due to mutual bloody-mindedness; I needed a bath, dammit. it refused to be removed. it was a stand-off and I had all of he power, but little control. these are the things I panic about.
anyways: malls. I just don’t like them. I’m pretty spoiled when it comes to being able to get the goodies I require to live within a few blocks of home from a great selection of local goods suppliers with whom I can engage in banter that is meaningful (“did you catch that show the other night?” “planning on going to such-and-such event?” “wanna grab a beer later?”). we have, like, real relationships and I dig that. mall people are all…a bit like vultures. be they staff or patrons; everyone’s out to get theirs.
I dragged my heels today, too. I didn’t leave the house until about quarter to two when I went to bed last night thinking I’d be headed out by noon at the latest. I drank a glass of wine before I left.
once on the bus, I was happy to disappear into people-watching mode. there was one lady in particular who caught my attention. she must have been in her late 70s or early 80s and had a sort of calm, but radiant joy about her, but like about her. it was a bit like bearing witness to Mrs. Claus out on the daily: she wore really smart, acrylic, red-rimmed glasses, a lovely, flowy, midi-dress in off-white and black floral print that somehow managed to not clash with her very nicely-coiffed, very silver hair and seemed not at all bothered taking up space with her walker. I imagined a million times over telling her “you are incredibly pretty” because she is, but the sentiment was backed with so much – “you remind me of my great-grandmother” and “I hope to be like you one day” and “please tell me all of your secrets!!! especially the ones that involve butter tarts and men!!!” and I don’t think I could have even mustered “you are incredibly pretty” without it being awkward, but damn. I want her confidence as a walker-dependent, roly-poly grandmotherly-type one day and I’m not gonna lie, she almost made me miss my mall stop.
surely I’m not the only objectifier of grannies. right? no?
I did make it to the mall, but not before a stop at Michaels. 40% off days are my undoing. I bought so many toys.
I also bought the tops that I went for. a lot of tops. 10 for $100 after taxes.
but also toys.
I probably need to get out more.