Mommy

I've been missing my mommy of late. I always miss her, but lately, I have been longing to talk to her so badly. 

Oddly enough, talking to her when she was alive could irritate me like no other. She was always giving me unasked for advice which drove me up the wall! But I was also just getting to know her. We butted heads my whole childhood because I didn't like her mooching leech of a boyfriend. As a young adult, I no longer had to see her deal with him, which left room for us to acquaint ourselves with each other. Now she's gone and I find myself needing to talk to her.

If she had not been cremated, I'd totally be advocating for a Pet Cemetery situation just so we could chat before she'd try to kill me. In this case, I'm sad this is not a scene from a Stephen King fantasy. I no longer wish to be sad. Time for bed. 

The Universal Aunty

What is youth?
This is a question I have been going over again and again in my head for the past couple of months, ever since I allowed myself to be aware of the fact that, in December, I will be turning 35. And after much deliberation, I have decided that youth is being able to live as carefree as possible without the fear that any little decision can result in a disaster that you can not rebound from.
When I was in my 20s, I lived in a never-ending, 24-hour cycle of consistent fear. What if I lost my job? What if I lost my apartment? What if I was unable to pay my bills? What if I lost the small amount of clout that I'd built for myself? Guess what? All of the above happened. And since I felt like I was 105 at 25, I slipped into a black hole that has been very hard to climb out of. I didn't understand what it meant to have youth on my side! When you are young, you can lose everything and make enormous mistakes. Then, after you've cried and sent out a series of emotional Tweets, you can dry your eyes and use that youthful energy to start all over. And what I know now is that you will do that over and over again until you end up someplace that sticks and that is called life. I didn't understand this as a young woman so now, as a sorta-young woman, I am a few steps behind the game. But it is all good. It has been put on my heart to warn those beautiful melanated beauties behind me of this part of the game that no one shared with me. I have Christened myself The Universal Aunty.
Yesterday, I went to brunch with Haynes and we were seated next to two adorable little sisters. They informed us that they were 25. I told them to drink more water because 30s acne is real. I told them to go on birth control, quit their job if they hate it, and travel. Why? BECAUSE THEY ARE YOUNG! They should be building experiences, not chaining themselves down to a way a life that can be snatched away like I did. Know this while you are busy knowin' stuff: life has its own plans for you.
Recently, one of my rideshare drivers told me she was 23 with no kids. I told her that after she dropped me off at my destination, she needed to get on the freeway and drive to Miami. I told her not to worry about money, she could sleep in the car. She said that that sounded nice, but I could tell that she was not going to do it. There is something about liking access to your phone and good credit that will forever keep some of us in chains.
Five years and two months from 40, I am just now understanding this, and I intend to use this last bit of my sorta-youth to learn, live, and shine like it is 2009...minus my micro braids and crush on Nelly.

Loss

I guess I am lucky. When I was growing up, I had a lot of women that dropped bars into my life as to how to conduct myself as a young woman. A teacher in middle school, Ms. Ross, told me to never leave home without a pantyliner in my purse. My grandma told me that clear nail polish stops runs in your stockings. My middle school bus driver told me that hand soap from the soap dispenser in the ladies room can double as a deodorant if you put it under your arms, and my mom told me that table salt gets period blood out of your underwear. One of the editors at Upscale Magazine, where I interned after college, told me that potato chips and sugary snacks will give you parasites. All facts. However, while all these priceless pieces of information were being dished out, no one told me how to deal with loss. Inevitable, random loss. Someone dying in your life is way more plausible then you randomly needing a pantyliner. It is guaranteed! Yet no one said a peep.
Over the past two years, my grandma has died, my mom has died and my ex-boyfriend from high school has died. Most recently, one of my BESTEST friends from college died, and I just feel ill-equipped as to how to deal with all of this loss emotionally. I find myself trying to sleep off the shock and hurt of it all, but how long of a nap do you have to take to get over the fact that there are people you've loved your life that are never coming back?
And it is not just death. I have also been mourning some of my friendships of late. People have friend-dumped me with no explanation, leaving just as big of a hole in my life as those people I loved that are now six feet under.
Perhaps the elders in my life didn't tell me how to deal with loss because it is almost impossible to put into words. Maybe they didn't tell me because they knew that grieving differs for everyone; what worked for them may not work for me. Either way, I don't have tools. Let's just file this under that grownup stuff that no one wants to address like heartbreak or student load debt. Man, if only dealing with loss could be as easy as cleaning period panties.

Playing Games

The other night Brownie and I decided catch up on our beau dramas. I told him about the Curious Clusterfuck and he schooled me to some game...about games.
I will not attempt to quote him, for his wording was too genius. But basically, he evaluated my timeline. I was really into Curious once upon a time, and he vanished. Years later, I run into Sorta Beau and I am super smitten. Curious is furthest from my mind and pops back up, riding me hella tough. I ignore him because I am sooo into Sorta. Sorta then starts to back up. I then turn to Curious, and the less I call him the more he is buggin'. Return his "interest" and he starts acting funny. The moral of the story: the more interested I am the less they are, even if they initiated the feelings. The solution: act like I don't like them when I do so they can stay on my jock.
Here is the thing: I do not like games...of any kind. Checkers, Uno, nothing! I have always wanted my game to be the anti-game. I like you, I tell you, and if you like me, we move forward. Why should I have to waist the rest of my precious 20s playing double dutch with these clowns?! What ever happened to just being honest and upfront?
Apparently, according to Brownie, those are two qualities that games don't have. However, I always have the option to not play, and just be left out, like in middle school softball. So do I want to be stupid and play or have my integrity intact and sit out, again, like in middle school? I'm not sure. I feel like I am too old to be involved in this rig-a-maroo. However, I do know that in middle school, I always felt lonely reading my Christopher Pike novel while everyone else was having so much fun, even those that got hit in the head with the ball.