You’re Beautiful and I Appreciate You

As we all prepare for what comes with the Trump era, I’m going to pause to point out something great.

img_3361I have been S E R I O U S L Y trying to be excited about how many work projects I have. Yay! But also annoyed that my fitness goals aren’t exactly on point and why the fuck is this boy ignoring me? Also what the fuck is with all of this laundry!? I don’t even have any clothes!!!

Sometimes you just have to get out of bed.

Even if you don’t want to. (Wayyyy better chance of staying in bed if you don’t have kids or recently got fired from your job, BTW)

But yesterday, I did get out of bed. With gusto. (Ish.) I spent the day in a satin robe with my best friend doing laundry and getting paid to write. Not the interesting, sexy or inspiring writing. But something that is paying the bills and allows us to do just what we were doing. Lingerie. Coffee. Best friends and avocado toast while dealing with annoying people.

After class I hit the library to do more work at at 11:30, feeling deflated because I still had a long To Do list for the morning, and while I was excited about clean sheets, I just remembered that they were still in the dryer, a car pulled up next to me with their window down. Mine was down too (balmy NOLA “winter”). They said “Hey!” and I said “Hey!” back. The guy driving and girl in the passenger seat were both snacking on something that looked like it was recently picked up from a drive-through.

I don’t know if I knew them or not. But then they shouted over: “You’re beautiful and I appreciate you!”

Something similar happened the other day when I was dropping off items from a photo shoot. A woman at the boutique I just exited paused to tell me how great I looked.

This is not to sound vain – the point is that I felt frazzled and disgusting (why is my car smelling like mold and about to overheat – again) and stressed to the max so it was particularly nice to see how something small can really help shift perspective.

This guy at the bar the other day (I was working, he was a customer) told me to “Stay out of the real world as long as possible.”

I’m fairly sure I’m in the “Real World” and, incidentally, recently got fired from that shitty bartending gig anyway.
So, for all those who are heading out on the town this weekend, remember to be kind. Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others.
Also, here is a poem we read last night:
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HELLLPPP! Uber, I’m lost!

Well, internet. I’ve delayed well into 2017 to save myself (and you all) the trouble of a “Gosh 2016 was the pits!” and “Good riddance and fuck off!” and “I bet if I change absolutely nothing and keep repeating the same behaviors, 2017 will be ah-may-zing” post.

You are welcome. And 2017 is going to be Totally. Amazing. Although I’m a bit terrified of what is going to happen to the EPA funding, the color orange, and anything rococo. (Don’t bother looking that up – it is the word for “Late Baroque” a la the new First Family’s home, reportedly decorated in a “color scheme of warm neutrals, such as gold, beige, rose, and blush, throughout” according to HomeBeautfiul.com.

Anyway, there will be plenty about that when half of the country turns themselves a shade of cheese-in-a-canister. All the rage up on Capitol Hill.

But back to me. I started off with a B A N G! So, you’re welcome, 2017. (I kissed a girl and I liked it.) No cherry Chapstick, though.

AND I did really well being swanky and sexy with my lovely ladyfriends for New Years Eve but somehow have spiraled since not taking my furry coat and my sweet outfit out on the town for a post-party bar hop.

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Everyone join me in a solid mantra for 2017: “No crying over spilled blowcaine.”#real #adult #theotherwhitestuff (jk).

Unfortunately, my future seems a bit shaky as of now because the other day, after far (FAR) too many drinks, I was unable to get myself the few blocks to my best friend’s house. You might say I was lost.

No one, except maybe my Uber driver Kenneth, really knows what happened. However, I apparently managed to switch my regular Uber to “Uber Assist.” It is one tier below VIP. And, for 0.76 miles, 3:01 minutes, I did this:

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And after finding this email, nursed my hangover with a bottle of wine with a cutie who just sat like a trooper for *many* hours of tattooed artistry, and we looked up what, exactly, Uber Assist is.

“uberASSIST is an uberX option that is designed to provide additional assistance to seniors and people with disabilities. Driver-partners are specifically trained by a third party organization to assist riders into vehicles and can accommodate folding wheelchairs, walkers, and scooters.”

The two of us got a solid ab workout over this development. And, naturally, we hypothesized about “What the fuck is up with that circle?”

Option one: Kenneth said “Um, blackout drunk does not count for Uber Assistance. Get out of my car so I can help someone with a real need.”

Kenneth got tired of me.

Kenneth said “No way am I taking you to a wine bar!”

Or maybe, I tried to get to St. Patrick Street to go to my best friend’s house. A phone call says that her place was my intended direction and got us all sorts of turned around.

It is possible I tried to get him to take me home but then ended up having him take me back?

After a lot of that, we kind of ended on the idea that more than likely he was tired of my shit, realized I did not need Uber Assist and was like “Please go away” and decided it safe to drop me back near where he found me.

A mystery. Kenneth?! Anyone know you?!

So, if you need me, I’ll be in my bed.