"People love a happy ending. So every episode, I will explain once again that I don’t like people. And then Mal will shoot someone. Someone we like. And their puppy."
― Joss Whedon
― Joss Whedon
Dinner party success #omnomnomnom
Contemplating life’s great mysteries. Is the sum of all positive integers really -1/12th? #tbt
People ask all the time. How are you Doing ?? with the two question marks to show they are really invested in the answer.
And while I am glad that people love me to enough to ask, to really ask. I have no idea.
And its not that i don’t want them to ask or don’t need to them to ask though sometimes I wish they wouldn’t it is more that I never know what to say to this.
I took that advice - you know - the live moment by moment advice. and I am. It’s the only one that works. To even look at the size of the loss- the great expanse of my life without my mother - its like being told i have to swim to London from New York. I can’t even tell you how far that is.
Instead i fill the hours of the day. With work, and with friends, with reading or with cleaning, with my ever constant daydreaming.
Eventually something in this will break and i will fall apart. For instance:
It’s winter and cold and so I’m planning a dinner party.
I sent out the email and I’ve cleaned alot of the house. Not all of the house, and not the extent my mom would - But alot of the house.
Its this weekend so i should plan the menu. I think about how mom would have the menu planned for a month. Before she sent out invitations, But I don’t get caught up in it.
I get down the cookbooks and flip through pages. Should I make a salad? I could make the black and blue - the one from the Miami cookbook, the one mom taught me when I threw my first dinner party at 12. I smile at the thought and my heart contracts so I move on. Maybe spinach dip? I wanted to have that at the wake but i wouldn’t let any make it - i knew they would fuck it up. Maybe that would be good.
Then it is time go back to work, so i take few calls, plan a few meetings.
The though occurs - I should ask dad. Thinking that will be a good use for our call tonight. I gather topics throughout the day like squirrels gather nuts for winter as we so hard to rapidly build a bridges to each in the flood plain we have been left in.
I should check Pinterest. Doesn’t mom have an entire appetizer board? She was so proud of her web 2.0 skills.
i’m scrolling and scrolling and soon i see only colors as my eyes blur with tears. 167 pins. That number isn’t growing. I can’t call to ask which ones she made already, which ones were good and which were so-so. I try not to beat myself up for not remembering. The tears are falling into my tea cup and i have the space to wonder if it will make it salty.
For a few minutes I am paralyzed in that pain; at thought of never hearing form her. Never getting voice mails and cards left for Puddy. Of not knowing what to plan for dinner or how to live my life. It’s agonizing and suffocating. I beat my mind against the rails of pain. My body shakes in now all to familiar silent sobs. My face pulls into a grimace and i know it looks just like my mothers when she cried. when she fraught the pain of the cancer we could not save her from.
And so i stop. I don’t want to look like that. Such vanity, such an odd self protection.
Its a cycle i tell me self. You can’t get lost in the thoughts. Don’t get in the ocean. It’s too deep.
I remember it’s the middle of the day and there is work to be done. Hadn’t I promised someone, something. I’m sure I had. I should do that and come to the dinner party after work.
Yes. I can come back to it.
How am I doing, you ask?
I can’t decide what to serve for dinner.
Burn like an ember capable starting fires. Like each moment inspires the next.
Like memories of the context we put ourselves and so that life becomes the next of kin that we’d notify in a big bang or extinction level event.
Let now be our advent.
Let us live like we meant. Let us burn like we mean it
Seems only natural since I woke with the this song in my mind and it now it returns and its worth posting.
You’ve always been a problem child
You run me down right restless and wild
And I remember when you used to be mine
Reblogged from wearethedigitalkids
Joan Didion (via wearethedigitalkids)
Via Sunshine, best curator ever
if all he has to talk about is social data…..stay far, far away
dont let the handsomeness deceive you"