Pink Cup Calls

There was a toilet paper emergency Monday morning at 8 am. I swore there was a full roll Sunday and somehow. I laced up for the grocery store to right it, carrying my favorite tumbler with me. Pink, plastic, full to the brim of water and ice. A rare gloomy LA day, wet walks and fewer sunglassed photo-ready folks with dogs on patios. Some cafe smoking bread. The new spot's construction finally starting after the building was bought early last year.

In the shop I got my favorite chocolate bar, the tp, bananas for Puhg. As I chose my bunch, I juggled all the items. I went through the fifteen items or less line. The cashier told me karma always works, just you see. "Sometimes it takes a while though!" I replied. (I do not believe karma always works. I think, for the most part, it sadly does not.)

Dropped my sunglasses back on and walked to the exit. As the automatic doors swooshed I heard, "You forgot." It was the cashier, but when I turned around she was chatting with another customer, hands busily scanning. Huh. I went home only to realize I didn't have my beloved tumbler. I imagined where I set it, I remembered, by the bananas. I saw the cup in my mind's eye whispering out at me.

Weekend, July 10 & 17

Worked well into the evening Friday, bad vibes, so went on a run. Golden sun, such glorious California trees. Jumped in the pool when it was said and done. Texted friends from the steps as the light fled and I became cold in my suit. Night laundry--surprisingly busy. Watched half a 2000s teen movie over chips and fancy ice cream (delivered).

Saturday tried something new--a gymnastics class. More casual than I could have guessed. Flopping over mats. Sweat more than usual for noon--a good time to get back in the pool. This time Puhg joined. I did handstands, this time without a spotter. Watched cartoons to prep for a meeting, salsa on the couch, and then friends in Aloha shirts arrived. We chatted too long to play Clue. Brought the hamster out onto the bed.

Like true 30somethings we tried a sports bar Sunday night. Dressed in purple, game so early I got two giant soft pretzels with mustard for the happy hour price. Early enough, home for a movie.

Or Friday ended earlier than expected because I didn't feel well. Add arrows to the to-do items in the calendar. That's next week's problem now. Tried it all--laid in bed and ice packs and a hot uphill walk. Rented a Bad Times at the El Royale because it was so stuck in my craw to see it. I didn't like it, but now I don't have to wonder. A party I hemmed over, but finally decided to go and ended up driving the birthday girl. Loads of old faces from the old city arriving. It was almost like the i_, so open with tall ceilings and everybody a little goofy. Ah, not LA in LA. (But there were vegan nachos.)

Second week of tumbling. Knew what to expect, but still learning. "You have the physical ability, but you're too nervous," that's my thing, I thought. This time the hot pool jump was pre-meditated. Lo joined. We bobbed for an hour, she's been on dates this week. Too quickly it was time to head to friends' for the basketball game. A huge spread and many folks I wanted to hear so much from, but priorities.

This morning I finished my book about demon possession and suddenly considered brunch. Puhg and I were told it'd be 45 minutes, which we don't usually do, but it felt so normal we decided on it--even though I didn't get the french toast I wanted, I liked being at a spot with kitchy wallpaper and tiles and no distractions and a rose water latte. I've meditated and made my schedule for the week. I brainstormed my newest idea. After I post this I will do one online personal development class and then organized some papers I've ignored. Then I will pat myself on the back with a horror movie and snacks. Popcorn, I think.

Long Summer Day 2021

It always surprises me when days start getting longer in January, February. Such a wind-up for summer so far away. The evenings my stomach grumbles and I think it can't be right because it's still light out, only to find it's suddenly 7.

The summer solstice is special to me. I remember a night hike when I was 17, thinking about how every day can be so full. For the most part I take every drop to extreme heart. But especially on the namesake.

Yesterday morning I woke up anxious and sad, as has been a recent trend. It's like I had one to three worries for a year and a half and now I have dozens. It's too many and worse there are too many options for solution. I'm out of practice making choices.

Nevertheless I journaled, I penned a little something, I read this novel with the blue cover. I texted my dad for the holiday. I decided on a 20 minute Peleton cardio--the toughest kind of exercise I do. Maybe that'd amp me up. There was also cookie dough tea. Showered to Aqua and got dressed in a crop top and laid in bed for a while all clean in the sheets. I planned to avoid social media this weekend and for some reason went on in the late morning, regrettable. Had my veggie bacon and coffee on the nightstand, decided to keep the desk closed this once. Upkept my artist journal and my organizational notebook and my planner and my spreadsheet of progresses. It's a lot of on top of it I do every Sunday, but it somehow feels empty and the urge to produce something was great. Trying to honor my day off, I meditated instead. On the ground with the square pillow and seashell towel. I thought about the pool but decided no, and was happy I'd swum yesterday instead. The Suns won.

At 3ish began getting ready for an engagement party at the park. Puhg and I arrived near 4, eerie and bright merry-go-round music welcoming us. Heaps of families having picnics and a cotton candy man I eyed. We wished our friend congrats and heard his stories. Two others showed up and we chatted and laughed and pet their dogs. We played a lawn game and I kept breaking the pieces. This is fun, I clearly thought. Then what a treat so missed and rarely possible--it was getting later, so we said, "we might go get dinner, wanna join?" And they did and we went to the same diner Puhg and I had coincidentally gone yesterday. It was so cool in the patio shade and I was so aware of the yellow shine on the mural across the street. Lower and lower.

The hippy sandwich was a delight. The sun slipped below the post office wall. I checked the time, set in just a few minutes. We all discussed the summer camps we'd been to. Stood up and walked out onto the sidewalk corner, took a photo, back to the car, inside toward home. Ophelia by the Lumineers was on the radio as the glow faded. Fed the hamster seeds, searched for a movie, found a strange creepy one, started it, but felt dizzy. Had four Thin Mints who had been frozen for months, put in a sound bath headphone, fell asleep at 10 o'clock.

And it will suddenly be so dark. Some day in November. Clocking out of work before the brightness even had her chance. And it will feel long, like how does one fill all the midnight space. But we will only have to wait until December for the magic to reverse.

Altitude

Girls trip a success. Blasting BSB all glammed up on our way to the sky high patio, where we were seated in the corner under the TV. But is anyone as happy as four millennials singing 1999 anthems in a big car with windows rolled down?

Fire pit both nights, crafts on the second morning. I wrote at the Airbnb desk looking out at the woods, eavesdropping on my friends discussing next steps from their swinging seats.

I enjoyed touching everything in the gift shops but left with nothing but a one dollar thrifted turtleneck with candy canes on it. Oh, and a one dollar pink shirt with stains. Maybe I'll wear it with overalls. Also a chunk of frozen cheesecake with chocolate chips. Forgot that.

Sometimes it's just too late and you wonder if what you said was a welcome gate or a muddy path. Ah well, it is what it is in the cabin in the mountains. Everyone feeling just a little ill from the heights.

You hope the advice you give is good and you wonder why you didn't ask for any. Then again, did they? There's a tarot reading someone keeps apologizing for and a birthday almanac that deals it out for real. Took a photo for another May 19 in my life, and she confirms, yes, it's brutal.

Too bossy as we packed, too quiet as we drove. Or a couple comments no one needed to hear. Ate a bag of Pirate's Booty from a CVS everyone went to the bathroom in. All four people so alike from far away but nothing the same in molecules. No competition in this forest. I believe for them and only wish I could help more.

And the tiny dog whines every time someone leaves a room. She's a hearder, so we're told.

28 Songs of Last Year

 On my birthday I like to think about the songs that blasted me through the past 365. I wrote, cried, danced, ran, walked, drove, showered, dreamt to these songs. Thanks to them all.

All Too Well - Dan Campbell

Savage Love - Jason DeRulo

I Write Sins Not Tractors - Alex Melton

Mickey - B*Witched

Curtain Call - Ken Yates

3 Musketeers - ppcocaine

Mood - 24kGoldn

If That's Not Love - The Naked Brothers Band

Potential Breakup Song - Aly & AJ

I See the Sun - Tommy Henriksen

Leaving Town - Dexter Frisbee

Carmen - Suzie True

Stand Out - A Goofy Movie

Betty - Taylor Swift

Heaven - Brandi Carlile

Hold On - Wilson Philips

When You Wish Upon a Star - Pinocchio

I Love College - Asher Roth

Boss DJ - Sublime

Literally My Life - Hiko

From Now On - The Greatest Showman

Twinkle Song - Miley Cyrus

Always Remember Us This Way - Lady Gaga

Dreams - The Cranberries

Hope to Die - Orville Peck

Without You - The Kid Laroi

I'm in a Hurry - Alabama

Good 4 U - Olivia Rodrigo

Rainy Girl

 Fires last night, puddles this morning.

20 snails on the sidewalk, so

I airlifted them to the dirt

near the pool.

But the biggest one turned right around

to sludge into the path.

Some people are just like that.

Empty Cage

Balcony morning. I felt Puhg's shadow before he opened the door. I assumed he was trying to spook me, but he met my smile through the glass with a frown. "It's the ham," he said. My heart thudded. "Is she gone?" I asked. He nodded. I rushed to her cage. He had to be wrong. I reached in to her little nest. It was warm.

But she was cold.

I took her out gently. So small and so peaceful, curled into a crescent moon. Her paws under her head, eyes closed. She went in peace, and for that I couldn't be more grateful. I held her little body to mine, like I'd done hundreds and hundreds of times, but she didn't squirm and she didn't whir.

The tears come every day all the time. Our little precious potato gone too soon. I thank my lucky stars we rescued her from the store right before she'd be in a dark lockdown. I thank my lucky stars it was her, chunky and curious and ready to stuff a raspberry at any given moment.

We piled shavings in a shoebox, lined it with her favorite wooden apple slice, a blueberry treat, a chew stick. No yard cemetery, so we looked up critter cremation and found a place she would get individual treatment. But it was Sunday, so we'd have to wait a day. We took a walk, we sat, we failed at TV. I realized I hadn't eaten, went to pick up a sandwich at 2. A bee stung me. Died in my hair and poisoned my hand. Puffy still as I type.

On Monday she looked so the same. Soft fur and all, hard to believe. I researched hibernating. Never mind it hasn't been cold. Never mind she was stiff and her little nose less pink. We held her to our ears, like we often did to hear her sniffing. Nothing. I wore my black dress and brushed my hair straight. We wrote her letters and slipped them inside. Goodbye, little angel.

She'd been in our car twice--the day she came home and now the day she left. The sky was full of huge fluffy clouds. She'd be burrowing in them. Puhg filled out a form while I held her in my lap. A flower petal fell near us and we gave that to her too. We agreed to close the box together, a final look at our beloved girl. Just as we did, a gust of spring air blew. Is that you? I wondered just as Puhg said, "Ham on the wind."

She was so much more than a hamster. She was a puzzler and a snoozer and a muncher. Sometimes I'd watch her think through a problem or decide to relax. If I gave her a piece of corn she'd look at me for more. She kicked green seeds out of her cage. She had a coconut that she didn't enjoy napping in, so she filled it with grains. She made so many different tunnels and hoards. She showed me being is a wonderful thing. And small things are wonderful things. She gave us the opportunity to be quiet and still all together on the couch. She reminded us to be spontaneous. I'd take a break just because she zoomed out for a drink of water. She gave us happy, goofy times. I'll always remember dancing with her and Puhg, in my platform sandals, her eyes big from the jostles but ready for adventure.

Mornings are the hardest because I'd wake up first and always give a little look in, see what she'd gotten up to in the night. Sometimes I'd catch her stealing a snack. Occasionally I'd get a pre-dawn hold. But also nights are the hardest because we always wished her sweet dreams. Called it out from the bedroom. And mid-days when I'd come back from walks and immediately spy in on her are the hardest too. Every time I rounded the corner last week, I instinctually looked in the cage. Chest tight with false starts, but we cleaned and dismantled it. Put a plant and car keys where she used to be.

When my insomnia has been bad this year I've stumbled out to the couch where I can watch videos loudly or be nearer to the air conditioner or drink tea. And I didn't feel alone in my sorrow or confusion or headache because she'd be a few feet away chattering and running. I'd even take her out some holy nights, sit with her in the darkness. She might squeeze or squeak. The Thursday before we were together at two in the morning. I haven't been able to sleep all week, my hand itching fiercely, my love bruised. But I can't bring myself to go to the living room. I toss and turn instead. At last I dreamt. A huge monarch butterfly landed on my face. It was so real. I woke up, sure it was in the room with me.

I wish we had more time. Love you forever, my sweet sweet ham.

What does it mean? What does it all mean? I had a dream, but what did it mean, what did it mean?