re-make

 

(On a related note, check out the ceramic cat mewseum)

Dear Remorseless,

Today, I am ripping out all of it and re-making my whole life- the past part, of course- the future part is impossible to contain.

Here is where I am starting:  my job will now have been UPS driver.  I have been at it for 27 years, and I love it, because I know all the people I deliver to, and they are always happy to see me.  It isn't a great job, pay-wise, but it's steady work, and it leaves me plenty of time to write in the evenings and play music in my all-girl band.

I also only have punky and net clothing now.  And boots.  Most of it is black, or pink.  My favorite thing to wear is a big crinoline with a men's dress shirt and noisy, clunky, buckled boots.  The shirt is done up partly with safety pins- big gold ones that I got in a junk shop.  I have 12 pairs of fishnet stockings, and I never hesitate to wear the torn ones, with odd shaped holes in the ankles.

I have read all of Truman Capote's books, plays, letters and screenplays, and of course, also, the entirety of Colette.  I only have shelving everywhere.  And ceramic cat figurines.  I have 27 thousand books, and thirteen hundred vinyl records.  There is a sofa, and some chairs.  There is nothing, nothing in the kitchen at all except a moka pot.  All the kitchen cabinetry is filled with books.  I often wish I had time to learn to cook.  I play mah jongg for money and I always win.  I give my winnings to the animal shelter.

I got a law degree, when I was younger, because I didn't like people thinking I wasn't smart enough, but now I know this is just how they make you feel when you are female.  I chose law not because I had an interest in it; only because I thought I could buy your respect by going to school for so many years.  It was a folly, yes; but there is no youth without folly.  Having that degree and doing nothing with it was, after all, the whole point.

A few other details of my re-made past; when you said you thought I was in danger of wasting my life, I threw my drink at you, glass and all.  When you cajoled me into having dinner with you, I packed up all my stuff and moved two days later, and I left no forwarding address.  When you told me I should just ignore it and get on with my life, I slashed your tires and stopped answering your calls.  When you told me it sounded like a mental problem, I burned all your letters and joined a writer's group.  I also never spoke to your thoughtless ass again, because why would I?  That time you made fun of the shirt I liked, the shirt with all the dancing people on it?  That was the day I vowed I would never listen to anyone's advice unless I asked them for it.  It has saved me a lot of consternation, and if I hadn't stopped talking to you after that, I would have thanked you for the lesson.

PS  Here is your song for today.

more flowers

 

budding

 

More on love.

 

Dear End of the Month of Love and Chocolate,

Here is a song for you- if you watch it, keep your eyes out for Nile Rodgers' beautifully transparent guitar.

welcome back, little flowers

 

be that good

 

Dear Broken Hearts,

Don't talk to me about love.  

make it so

 

Dear Dodos,

It's about the time of the year when I review what the Dodo is doing-  February, 2013 is when the Dodo first started, and this makes 13 years; over a dozen years of Dodo posts.  There have been over 1400 posts.  There are more than 893,129 page views.  Most months, there are a total of 8 posts, twice a week.  

It is a good time to wonder what I am doing here, what you are doing here.  It should feel re-assuring, it should feel like we have witnessed it together, it should feel safe & sane, although an occasional outburst is to be expected; it should feel encouraging.  

There is SO much out there, out here, in here.  I don't really know about you, but it feels overwhelming; there are piles and piles of sites I want to visit and read and listen to and look at.  I cannot get it all done- I don't want this space/place to feel like a thing you need to do- it should not be like brushing your teeth or a big 'should.'  Although, then of course the obvious question is why look here at all, then?  Well, I like to hope that it is a bit curated, a bit thoughtful and not just another place that must provide content to you, dear consumer.  Ugh.  See, I don't really think of you like that, a consumer.  I think of you as a friend, and I want to touch you in that way.  

Even so, things change, and the meaning and purpose of things change.  I like to put the things I am excited about, or engaged in, here, for you to maybe take, maybe not.  Maybe become engaged in, maybe just walk on by.  It's a big world, I won't feel hurt if you don't have time; as a woman once told me, I am not inventing a narrative about why you couldn't be here. (Although, oh!  It is so tempting!  Narrative no. 1:  You were on your way here, going through the car wash, when the machine broke down, and you and your car were trapped in an endless shower of suds!  Narrative no. 2:  You attended a candlelight vigil in your park, to commemorate all that ever was, and you stayed there so late, with all the other beautiful mourners, that you didn't wake up when your alarm went off!  Narrative no. 3:  Instead of coming here, you went and did the three things you have been meaning to do since 2022: schedule your shingles vaccine, rotate your tires, and call someone to have that old piano hauled away!)

Shall we meet here again this year as usual, then?  Make it so.