Stripped

I started this blog because I needed to write. I needed an outlet. At the time, I thought, “Yessss. A moment to say what I want, when I want, and let it feel good.” I didn’t anticipate then becoming concerned with what I thought people would want to read.

I want to write.

This is my space to do so.

Be entertained, be horrified, or secretly relate. Whatever.

Right now, I hear in my head, “I’m Rob Base, and I wanna rock RIGHT NOW.” (Who’s with me?)

I am experiencing at this moment my first complete night away in my own home without my husband and son. I want to explain what have been the most important events of my experience.

I did some blogging.

I worked out on my brand spankin new Wii fit and kicked my husband’s butt on balance points.

I showered.

I ran some quick, important easy errands. Whatever.

I came home, poured some wine, had chips and dip, and watched some Tivo’d shit TV.

I started writing. I loved it.

I boiled an artichoke and made noodles with green tea peppercorn seasoning and chicken. Hallelujah, bliss is never ending.

I watched Vicky Cristina Barcelona and re-ignited my love of art and adult thought.

In between, I would pause the movie WHEN I WANTED and write as the thoughts came to me.

I poured a little more wine and started the movie, Adventureland.

As I sit here, I look at the TV screen in the exact moment that I paused it, and there is a shithead riding his bike with a yellow headband on, and he is giving me the finger.

I am in heaven.

I can hear you out there right now.

“Oh my god, she is wasted.”

I do not care. (This is all spelled correctly, right?) I have had an EVENING, and it has all given me reminders of what I love:

Time to rediscover me.

Time to be hedonistic and reclaim a slice of freedom and ambiguity.

Time to be vulnerable.

Time to look around at all I have and know that it all comes back tomorrow.

Time to want my world, my hub, my bub, to be here with me again.

Time to remember that life is a funny, funny thing, and the moment we begin to give it a label, is the moment we lose sight of what it can give us.