Test run... giving it another go

Things that make my heart sail over the moon:

1. Tomatoes plucked fresh from the garden, juice running down my chin
2. Random calls, texts, emails, cards from friends who were "just thinking about you"
3. The smell of fresh laundry
4. Laughing so hard I worry I might pee a little
5. Not actually peeing when I laugh that hard
6. Long showers in the afternoon with nowhere to go afterwards
7. Crawling back in bed after a long shower
8. The love and admiration I have for my beautiful friends who have become beautiful parents
9. Hearing my Mama say "I love you" in her wonderfully awful accent before she hangs up
10. Hugging a friend and and realizing they mean it as much as I do

O.M.G.

Yesterday The ExMister and I were waiting at the airport to pick up a friend. While sitting at the Sam Adams bar and having a chat, a gaggle of 8th grade morons tried to descend but were quickly turned away by the bartender.
Our conversation:

"Thank goodness you have to be 18 to sit here. Whoosh!"

"Did they say their flight was cancelled?"

"I don't know... all I heard was '...walla walla walla Kelly Clarkson...' and I ordered another round."

Have you seen that AllState commercial...?

"TURN YOUR FUCKING CAR OFF! TURN YOUR FUCKING CAR OFF! TURN OFF THE ENGINE! STOP STOP STOP! TURN YOUR FUCKING CAR OFF!!!"

I heard this through my open windows last night. It was my Aunt Jane yelling to the man who had driven through her bedroom window. Living almost directly above the scene prevented me from fully assessing the situation and I honestly thought the man had just hit the wall where the boiler room is located.

Much to my surprise, a wobbly 60-something-year-old man had driven his car into Aunt Jane's bedroom window located just off the alley beside our apartment building.

Luckily, the bedroom was empty of people as it was not quite nine and Aunt Jane was hanging about her living room. Most importantly nobody was hurt. The driver was shaken and stirred. Aside from yelling for the man to turn the car off because smoke, exhaust and antifreeze were pouring into her bedroom, Aunt Jane was the picture of calm.

As Aunt Jane says with a laugh, her bedroom looks like Beirut without the bodies. There is glass everywhere; embedded in the opposite wall 16 feet away. Antifreeze permeates the air. Shards of mortar mix with glass. There are tire marks on her drapes. The force of the crash ripped the closet door off; strangely, the hinges and splinters of wood are still attached to the wall, but the door is not attached to ...well the door is not attached to anything. It flew across the room.

She and I cleaned all morning. Vacuuming everything, laundering, finding glass in the most bizarre places was a good release, and though I've now seen the wreckage, it's not easy to wrap your head around tire tracks on the inside of your window sill.

Amazons and Pygmies.

Moms and my sister, Talent, came to visit last week.

They stayed with me and shared an aerobed in my living room. I stumbled past the living room on my way to fuel the jets with coffee. My commotion apparently awoke the dead (read: Moms and Talent).

Talent had no shame complaining about Moms and her snoring, however, I had to jump in. "Talent! Are you kidding? When I walked past, poor Moms had one foot on the floor and and ass cheek hanging off because you had taken up the entire bed!"

Talent is 5'10". Moms is 5'4". I am 5'1". Talent dwarfs me (still I appreciate her funky stylings and the growth spurts that provide the super cool hand-me-ups.)

However, I have to share a bed with the Amazonian Snuggler for a month while we are in Europe. You'll read about it in the news: Small Sister Smothered in Sleep by Sister... Yeah, she looks nice enough, but you can tell she's just plotting how to strangle me with her curly mass of hair.

Powers. Super Powers.

This morning a co-worker asked, "Is your last name Power or PowerS?"

"It takes two wings to fly, buddy."

Thank you, I'm here all week.

************
Alright, alright... I've been writing like a 15 year-old learning to drive stick: start stop start sputter stop lurch start.
I'm working on it and here's a little catch-up on all that may or may not be Super.

The past few months have been tornado-like. Hopefully it's scooted past and I'm not just blindly walking around in quiet of the eye. In no particular order I went to Europe, got a new job, lost an uncle to a terribly progressive cancer, gotten divorced, remained best friends despite divorcing, hidden from friends and family so as not to cause worry, cleared away the cobwebs and spent a lot of time reassuring loved ones that I am, in fact, okay.

And I am okay. Remarkably brightly looking ahead, pressing on and smiling to knock 'em dead.

Come July my sister, Talent, and I are jetting off to Europe for a month. I can't believe we're doing it and the reality is finally settling in. And I could not be more excited! Details coming soon. Patience, Young Jedi's.

Which is cooler? Mayor Fenty or DC Blogs?

Woo-hooo DC Blogs!
Here I was thinking about putting my pen in my pocket indefinitely and a shout out from DC Blogs has given me renewed hope. l

Today I called a cutie to say, "You won't believe my day. It's been so very cool! You know how yesterday I told you about trying to get a cab in Dupont? Well, I have this blog and there's this website... and wow, now that I think about it, this sounds a hell of allot geekier than I thought it would. Ah, hell, regardless... Not only did I meet the Mayor and asked a fabulously pertinent question that made me seem super smart, but DC Blogs cited me on it's main page!."

Mayor Fenty is quite a hottie and I never would have guessed from seeing him on television.

It's possibly I shouldn't equate meeting the Mayor in a small intimate setting with being cited on DC Blogs, but really I'm not sure which is more exciting.

Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!

This is what I wished had happened:

After having lunch at a lovely restaurant and thinking, "Well, today was okay. I'm okay. I kick ass and that wasn't too bad.", I walked to Dupont Circle to hop on a bus going home. I waited, waited and waited some more and decided perhaps my cards pointed to a cab.

My little arm shot up and waved away. The first cabby stopped only to tell me my fare was not worth his time. Apparently the next three agreed with his logic and all drove off with some semblance of "No, no, I can't go there."

The fourth denial led me to yell, "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHAT KIND OF DICK DOES IT TAKE TO GET A FUCKING CAB IN DUPONT CIRCLE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING DAY?"

As I turned around to re-man my post at the corner, I looked up to see a gay couple eyes wide and mouths agape, obviously mortified at my outburst. Realizing what I'd just done, I got a little embarrassed; explaining "I'm sorry! I got divorced this morning."

The taller of the two sized me up and said, "Oh honey! We're gonna get you a cab!" as he started flailing his arms at any and all cars that drove past.

I gotta tell ya... if you ever need a cab in Dupont Circle the only way to hail one is with two queens on a mission of No Man Left Behind. I've never gotten home so quickly.

Instead, I was truly passed up by four cabbies and definitely yelled the whole "jfc blah blah dick in dupont" and then waited for-fucking-ever only to be charged a double fare. Karma anyone? Regardless, maybe I'll stick something like that in my next book. I really think we all need a fairy-god-mother and if you're ever going to find one, don't you think your chances are better in Dupont Circle?