Never explain yourself – your friends don’t need it, and your enemies won’t believe you anyway.
Ahhhhhhhhhh! You know, for as little sleep as I got, I feel strangely refreshed and rejuvenated this morning! Must be the soda. But still. Mmmmmm, feels like one of those cozy days, when everything is warm and fuzzy and the only thing I care about is smiling. I woke up late, got a call from a coworker asking if there was any chance for me to be in early (nope) and I raced about my place, throwing myself together. All in a huss (Barbarism for “hustle & bustle”, just conjugated differently to fit the context there), I popped my Claritin, grabbed my water bottle (don't leave home without it) and flung the door open. And stopped. And smiled. Because through the white metal screen that lies beyond my wooden door, someone had carefully placed two vibrant violet flowers.
I don’t know what kind they were, but that’s irrelevant now, isn’t it. They were small, they were fresh and fully bloomed, and at the base of each petal, the purple ran into a deep indigo where it met the lemon yellow speckles of pollen on the stamen. See what I mean? Just puts you in a good mood. I’ll have to give Dad a call and thank him. He is the only man I know who is thoughtful enough, sentimental and simple enough, to realize that the mere act of plucking a flower and putting it on someone’s door, (the first thing for that someone to encounter outside of their home that day, representing the world and influencing their outlook on the morning) is the best kind of gift a person could give. See what my future husband has to live up to? I was never one for gifts and money from men, never one who liked to be paid for or given things. Not me. I like to be thought of. I prefer a hand-picked flower, a genuine smile and a tight embrace over a diamond. Diamonds may last forever, but in my mind, so do moments.
Okay, done with our daily dose of dramatization? I had a wonderful evening. I didn’t even realize it had been so long since I ventured out of the house, I haven’t been out in the evening since I got back Saturday. FOUR days home and in bed before 10pm. It’s like, unheard of. So of course, I had to make up for that immediately! Pixie and I, along with a few friends, went to the Ould Sod to see the Hatchett Brothers. Unfortunately, Frank, one of the singers and definitely the life of the show, was not there to perform, having hurt his neck earlier in the week. Dammit! So it was very mellow, different kind of atmosphere, even my sister, Heather, left early. Funny side note here, Heather is now 3 ½ months pregnant. Last week, my father took her to a play at the Civic Theater downtown. When he got home, he called me and said, “See, Heather thought we just had a nice evening, father and daughter out to see a play. When in reality, I just want to expose the baby to theater.” Could he be any more fucking adorable? The other day he bought a bib that says, “My Grandpa loves me.” I’m happy Heather’s the first of the four to go through this. By the time I pop out a kid, this whole novelty thing will be old news.
But I digress! Pixie and I didn’t stay too long ourselves, headed out before midnight, thinking to make it an “early” evening. Ha! We went back to her place for a nightcap and had one of the best heart-to-hearts we’ve ever had. Baring all, smiling, hugging intermittently, laughing and sharing. Moments. Better than diamonds. Because to me, best friends are a “girl’s best friend.” Go figure.