Friday, October 21, 2011
This Is A Dream Coming True
I started to but I just couldn't come up with right words. Not THE right words- just plain old "right" words.
Not that there was anything especially crazy going on. Just regular old great-day-with-Owen and making supper and Lily coming to eat with us and Bop coming home with...
confirmation of a trip to Cozumel.
He did it. He pulled that trigger. He's making it happen.
I'll be...ssssshhhhh....I'll be.....oh my, oh god, oh sweet Mary mother of Jesus....in Cozumel for Christmas.
And New Years.
I am going to do what I've always wanted to do which is to say I am NOT going to do Christmas this year. Every damn Christmas carol on every damn Muzak in every damn store in the world will not be guilting me. That Little Drummer Boy can a-rumpatumtum till his fingers fall off. Various artists can wish for a White Christmas until hell itself freezes over. Santa Claus can motherfucking come to town and I WILL NOT BE HERE TO GIVE A SHIT!
Do you hear me?
I will not be home for Christmas!
I may give Bad Santa to Lily.
So. My entire outlook on life has improved considerably knowing that I will not be participating in the madness and I don't even have to pretend to feel all gooey and Christmas Spirity and my children will have the time of their lives without me going off into other rooms to cry and curse while trying to make them a nice Christmas and I think I will probably have papaya and mangoes for Christmas breakfast and I will be looking at the water and I will be weeping- tears of fucking joy!
All right. Enough of that.
Today is the seventeenth (I think) anniversary of when my daughter May, my gorgeous daughter May got hit by a car walking to school and it was so bad and I can't even really think about it, much less write about, even now. I just talked to her on the phone and I told her I was so glad she is alive and that she didn't die and okay, I can't talk about it.
But she IS alive and she is my joy and she is going to work a double today and cross that street where she got hit as she usually does on this day every year.
On her strong, sure legs.
Well. It's Friday. I am going to Kathleen's to make soap. I better get moving.
I am beyond thankful today. My daughter is alive. I am going to Mexico. I am not doing Christmas. I am married to a man who is taking me to Mexico and we are going to indulge in every glorious bit of it. I am going to be, as Billy said, in my favorite place with my "lov-ah."
And we have two months of vacation foreplay and that is perfect and precious.
All right. Gotta run.
Happy Friday, y'all.
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Wonderful. Can we ALL have two months of vacation foreplay?ReplyDelete
If I weren't lolling on the bed with the cat, I'd twirl in my twirly skirt for you right this second.ReplyDelete
That is gorgeous news!!!! Get a tan for Christmas. Get some sex and sunshine. I think it's what we ALL want for Christmas this year, right?ReplyDelete
Congrats! Vacation foreplay!ReplyDelete
Damn, we've never even had a real vacation! I can't imagine how fun it will be/is.
Needless to say, if you need any help managing the chix and dawgs, we'll be here, and Gman will be just thrilled to have a "job" to do.
YAY!!!!!! Effing fuck Christmas. I'll wave to you from my ocean.ReplyDelete
What they said. Yay!!!ReplyDelete
Oh Mz. Moon. My heart soars for you like your lovely picture. I will be thinking of you when I am up to my ass in cranberry chutney. We must talk soon! xo xoReplyDelete
I think you need to take that Santa to a priest and get him to throw holy water on it. Or bury it in the back yard. Better yet bury it in the ocean because that Santa is a possessed mother fucker.ReplyDelete
Oh, I envy your Christmas. I don't want to do it at all this year.
Wonderful news! I'm so happy for you. This will probably be the best Christmas ever for you and 2 months to look forward to it will be heaven. Congrats!ReplyDelete
I never knew there were other people who hated christmas ! So nice not to be alone in that :)ReplyDelete
Good on you girl. You go dance in the sand and have fun ('cause we'll all kinda get to go too!!)
it will be the best non-christmas ever. so glad for you.ReplyDelete
whoa, 2 months? way to play some hooky!ReplyDelete
Kiss Mr. Moon for me for doing that for you. I heart him.ReplyDelete
I LOVE YOU SO! You are such a blessing to all of us.
I don't do Christmas either. Last year The Man Who Loves Me and my younger daughter wandered around on Christmas Eve looking for somewhere open to eat. Finally got some sushi. I hate the whole thing--especially the shopping. Going away solves everything. Yay you and your sweet man!!!
Elizabeth- I doubt you'll be able to escape it.ReplyDelete
x-ray iris- I see you twirling, even as you lay on the bed.
silverfinofhope- Is that not perfect? Ah, me. I am so lucky.
Ms. Fleur- Noted and appreciated.
lulumarie- Child! Yes!
Madame Radish King- I will throw kisses in your direction hourly.
Stephanie- This does not suck, does it?
Lizzie Love- Yes. Talk. Soon. I love you so!
Birdie- That Santa is pretty evil looking. But he's sort of been my symbol of Christmas for awhile.
No mystery there.
Lois- I am ecstatic!
liv- I may even take my MacBook.
Ellen- Yes, yes, and YES!
El Magnum- I adore you.
Ms. Bastard-Beloved- You are family. Yes.
Denise- I always threatened to do this. And now...I really am.
Vacation foreplay is the perfect phrase to describe it! Love for your May, so glad she is well.ReplyDelete
I think this is the best way to celebrate the holiday that I have ever heard. My husband was Mr. Christmas, and last year we didn't even have a tree. Maybe this year Raleigh and I will do something. Next Christmas, I have resolved to take her to Paris for 5 days--and I don't mean Paris, Tennessee, or Texas, or New York. I mean the Oolala City of Lights.ReplyDelete
You've inspired me, as you often do.
XOXOXOXO! Thank you!
Lora- Me too. Oh, me too.ReplyDelete
Pamela- Do it. YOU DO IT!
Vacation foreplay can be every day, right? Sounds great to me. Glad that you are skipping Christmas this year.ReplyDelete
That Mr. Moon...what a wonderful gift . I'm so happy for both of you.ReplyDelete