Tonight something cool happened. I had a rare 45 minutes alone in the house, and I danced like an 80s white girl around the kitchen in my underwear to Erasure, to get ready for the concert on Sunday, while making a cake for the AHS premier gathering on Wednesday. And somewhere during that process, I climbed out of the crap I was buried in, and I felt just fine. How strange is it that a musical trip to the past while looking forward to stuff in the future can lead me back to the present? The present is the only place that a person can truly live, with a sprinkle of remembrance of the past and a dash of an eye toward the future. My problem, Reader, is that I am always thinking and I tend to live in my head, instead of out in the real world. It feels more comfortable in there but I know it keeps me from really living. Because life is not comfort, it is actually something closer to pain. There is no perfect life, but there are moments in our life, like the one I had tonight, where everything is just fine. And it is in these moments that I feel joy, that the sun shines a little brighter, that I know that life is worth the struggle, that I feel hope and excitement for the future, and that I realize if I'm going to dance around the kitchen in my underwear, I really need to buy curtains.
Life is too short, dear Reader. Don't stop L-I-V-I-N-G. Hold on to the moments. They are a present that you'll only find in the present.
EPILOGUE: I never know if people "get" me, or have the same experiences as I do, so I asked a guy friend if men have those moments, like the ones I wrote about, where everything is just fine. He said, "Not really, we have porn." Well! Guess I can't write for everyone. Stay gold Porneyboy, and thanks again to all of you who "get" me - keep laughing.
