Dear Mom,

I was going to call and ask if Gooneybird could come see his Bubba and if Dorian could get her Mum to make her dinner Sunday, but. Oh well.
Also, I meant to ask you OH MY GOD THERE IS SOMETHING IN MY UNDERPANTS WHAT IS IT
Just kidding. I wanted to know that if I have apple juice in my fridge that is slightly effervescent and is kind of not supposed to be....is that a Bad Thing...? I mean....uhm. I probably should not drink that? It won't kill me if I did a little, right, because it was kind of tasty. No, sadly, I am not joking. And yes, I am still your daughter. You should be asking yourself exactly how many times you dropped me right about now.
You should probably just email me, because if I call, Dad will yell at the phone.

BAH BUDDY!

Yep. This is how I talk to my own mama. Stop being shocked now. I am known for my irreverence.
As far as dirt on my mum, Frobisher.....well.....all I have to say is that I act like more of an adult than she does.... And occasionally she is very nice to strangers. It's freaky.
She also sings songs about our dogs to herself. Constantly. It's like tourette's, but about a small, smelly, hideous potato of a dog.
Ummmm. Other than that, she doesn't really do anything too horrible. Well, when I was a kid, she wore pants that were magenta with black and yellow and green.....fleck...thingies...on them....it looked a lot like someone threw up on them.
I think it was just to embarrass me. It was the 80s, man. I wore jams. It was a bad scene. Except my mom...was gleeful....with her bad-pants-wearing.
I dunno, dude.

I...uh.....think...I want to....ummmm. Marry Sam Beam, maybe? A little?


Or a very close facsimille.
For those of you not in the know, homeboy here is Iron & Wine, which is very rapidly becoming my new favorite band...type...thing. Well, Mr. Beam here, and then Calexico and Califone.
Thanks to the magics of the intarwebs (and having a bit too much alone time), my musical tastes have kinda undergone a sea change. I still love the Deftones, and Pharrell still needs to be my personal bitch, but I think maybe mellower, bluesy/bluegrassy/folky stuff makes me pretty fuckin happy at the moment. Really pretty damned happy. That and the new locale has made my head a lot calmer.
Maybe I'm mellowing in my advancing years.
I'm old....22 next month....dear sweet Zombie Jebus, bust out the Botox.

Oh, oh, oh. Here is my favorite song at the moment.

Lion's Mane

run like a race for family
when you hear like you're alone
the rusty gears of morning
and faceless, busy phones
we gladly run in circles
but the shape we meant to make is gone

and love is a tired symphony
you hum when you're awake
and love is a crying baby
mama warned you not to shake
and love's the best sensation
hiding in the lion's mane

so i'll clear the road, the gravel
and the thornbush in your path
that burns a scented oil
that i'll drip into your bath
the water's there to warm you
and the earth is warmer when you laugh

and love is the scene i render
when you catch me wide awake
and love is the dream you enter
though i shake and shake and shake you
and love's the best endeavor
waiting in the lion's mane

Growing up is a very, very strange thing. I mean, the odyssey that was toddlerhood to teenagerness was.....special. And really kind of mindblowing when you think of how many transformations and mental/physical overhauls a person undergoes in that short decade and a half.

But this "adulthood" thing. Wow.
I stop every so often and think that my earliest memories of my mom were of her at right about the same age (I'm 22....she was about 26 or 27), and it's weird to think how kind of similar we are...were...?.... It's strange to think of her back when she dyed her hair black and wore huge black sunglasses and punk-y t-shirts and was as pale as I am, especially now that I am a mommy who wears huge black sunglasses and punk-y t-shirts. You turn into your parents in more subtle ways than just how you yell at your kids, huh? Yep.
But.
My brain is kind of maybe maturing a bit. In the past few months, my brain has been catching up with the fact that a lot of my theories on the world and the way things work are.....not at all the same as a year ago. This wouldn't be so strange but for the fact that I'm a stubborn jackass and usually cling to these things until they're torn to bits, sent up in flames, pissed on, and finally tossed into a drainage ditch. Now...I'm okay with change, I may actually be even subconsciously seeking and accepting it rapidfire.
For instance.....I may not think that humans are built to be monogamous, but I do indeed believe in monogamy now. That's a big shift.
Another thing is that I really don't give a fuck what you believe, or what your politics are, or whatever. If you treat me as an intelligent human who is worthy of respect, I'll give you the same. No discraminating on that end anymore. I guess I finally reconciled the dichotomy of fighting bigotry with bigotry in my head with....just not giving a fuck.
I'm also starting to feel more and more and more like a mum. A mum who will be doing this on her own for quite some time (indefinitely, even), and I am more and more and more....pretty okay with that. I get more giddy now thinking about the house I want to buy and the projects I want to start on (like buying a Galaxie! and building a bike...mmmm, triumph....) than about settling down with somebody and doing all the same things. This is made a bit strange by the waves of guys lately who seemingly want to "rescue" me from the societal faux-pas of single motherhood. Oh, don't kid yourself, it's still a no-no. And while the former serial-monogamist in me is mildly intruigued, the rest of me is kind of laughing about it. Especially when they praise my strength/amazon-likeness/warrior attitude/etc while trying to get me to settle down and completely domesticate. That's funny.
Things I used to want....not all that long ago....just don't appeal.

I don't know where I'm going with all of this, really. It's just interesting to notice that my head's changing. Maybe the plethora of chums running to get married (which is pretty concerning) is making me ponder stuff. If my head's transforming so freaking quickly...like, on a near-weekly basis....how do these friends of mine know that this marriage thing is what they want to do? Or even, how do they sit there and say, "okay, I have no idea who I am, really. But I think I'll go out and bind myself to this other person for the rest of my life, regardless!". That seems so counter-intuitive to me. Might explain divorce rates.
Well, I blame the feminist revolution for that, actually.
Uh. Anyhow.
Coffee? Yeah....

(this is where I live now....No, not joking...up in the upper left corner of the lake....way upper...kind of obscured by a hill....Oh well. Pretty, eh?)

The sun is shining, I am full of avocados and beer, and in one week....! YES! The trophy wife (who is a male-type-human) will be here. Imagine my fucking excitement!
....that sounded sarcastic, but it ain't.......
Hell yes.
So very, very stoked.

That is all.


(******EDIT/Post-Script********
Delay imagining my "fucking excitement" {yikes, that sounds awful...pheh}, trophy ho has been delayed. Que sera.....sera....Still excited. Just not "fucking" excited.)