stabby stabby, shouty shouty « Letters from Grenada

stabby stabby, shouty shouty

I was really busy having this obscenely stabby stabby shouty shouty day.

You know. The kind of day when you examine a stupid list and suddenly discover you’ve been unfollowed (don’t ask) by twelve (twelve!) of your favorite people in the universe. And then you curl up, fetal, in the shower, and bawl like baby elephant, because it shouldn’t matter, but it does, and it reminds you that everything else kind of sucks too, up to and including your utter lack of plans for your birthday. Then you get out, dry off, look at yourself in the mirror and think to yourself, Wow, my skin didn’t used to look like that. A few minutes later you’re getting dressed and you realize that not one, but both (both!) of your ankles are sprained, which you didn’t notice earlier because your heels are numb. That’s when you start to cry again, because you’re just so goddamn tired, but you have “stuff” to do, so you put on your sunglasses (on an overcast day in February) and go out and deal with your “stuff”, life, whatnot, and then you go on the internet and overshare a bit, but only a bit, because you’re making a concerted effort lately to not be *so* publicly messy.

And then you get a Facebook friend request from your dad, which is funnier than EVERYTHING, EVAR, basically, so you laugh. You laugh for a really long time and you figure that maybe you won’t delete your digital existence. Not yet. Because the truth is that even when the world is full of shit, you still kind of love every ugly second of it, goddammit.

[Totally unrelated, except that it may account, in part, for the mood evidenced above... If you're only going to read one thing today - other than, of course, this blog post - let it be this gorgeous tribute to a beautiful baby girl named Nella Cordelia.]