I got a chance today to pick up the Blackberry Sage Refresher I had been wanting to try. It was delicious. I had a coupon for a drink of my choice for $3, and $1.27 left on a digital gift card. But I tipped well. Passing on the savings. I try to be generous when able.
Dunno that this pic does it justice, but here it is:
As I was doing my makeup today, a friend called to tell me all moms could get into the Botanical Garden free, for Mother’s Day. Originally, her mom was supposed to go, too, but I guess she had to run some errands at the last minute. BUT, my mom and I met her there, and walked the paths, and took some pictures.
I hope my mom didn’t feel left out. It was challenging balancing the both of them with only the three of us there. Had her mom accompanied, I’m sure our moms would have talked together. We did include my mom in photos, however, and we all walked around together, until my mom got tired and just wanted to sit down outside for a time.
I had earlier taken a fresher selfie (below, after much exposition), while waiting for my mom to get back from spending time with my cousin and his wife, at the cemetery.
She came back a bit worn out, but in high spirits. We didn’t talk much about the trip, apart from her expressing distrust in my cousin’s GPS. I told her with a town as small as the one they’d driven to, it made sense that GPS might get confused. I think she said the population was under 700.
They must’ve gone to the gravesite for my cousin’s mom, one of my mom’s two older sisters, both of whom have passed on, along with her oldest sibling, my uncle.
Not a lighthearted thing, but it seems she must be in a good place about missing her sister, considering her mood upon returning.
I had redone my makeup as closely as I could to how it looked yesterday, and worn the dress again, in the hopes that I could persuade someone to take some pictures of me, head to toe, and such.
That had been my plan even before my friend called me, before I had heard about my mom’s plans for the day. I would have likely asked my family to take a shot or two, with my phone. But my friend has an art degree, has taken some photography classes, and has been hired for wedding photoshoots a few times.
I’m still waiting for her to email me the pics she took with her fairly-sophisticated digital camera, but I’m excited to see them! Of all the selfies I took in this makeup, both yesterday and today, I think this one shows the eye color the best. Gosh, I love these duo-chrome shades!
I got a great shot of her by some faux farm ruins and a Magnolia tree (MAN were the Magnolias beautiful– white and pink petals all over the grass, like massive paint-splatter-teardrops). I’m not in that one at all, though, so I probably won’t show it here. She got some pics of me in that same spot, and I will share those once I have them. Can’t wait!
Here are most of the pics I took, minus the ones of my friend.
Here are two of the sculptures made from reclaimed plastics found either in a freshwater source, in the case of the otter, or in the ocean, like the leatherback sea turtle eating the jellyfish.
The sign next to the leatherback sea turtle was awfully sobering. They’re actually that size in the wild. And the similarities between jellyfish and plastic bags frequently confuse them, leading them to swallow plastic.
Above, you see the other piece of rescued water refuse that I photographed. This one might have also had some metal on it. I think I remember seeing aluminum can pull-tabs in it, in the wings.
There were also sculptures of animals made merely for the sake of themselves, not also intended as environmental statement pieces (but I suppose a botanical garden is one giant environmental statement).
I think out of all of them, the dragonfly and butterfly were my favorite. But the butterfly’s wings had GLITTER, so I had to get a selfie in front of those. Not the right angle to create the effect that the wings are sprouting from my back. Pretty nonetheless.
This is one of my favorite things to photograph at our Botanical Garden– the celestial roof of one of their gazebos, from the interior, looking up.
It’s a popular spot, so I had to be a little bit patient. Totally worth it.
Stars are, after all, my favorite shape, like the officer in Practical Magic. My friend mentioned the upcoming sequel to the film. I confirmed that and told her a little about the books.
The very first of several skaters occupying tangential spaces in my life, once kind of snorted or huffed and said something like, “More stars” when he saw me doodling some, in between calls, at work. I would make them intentionally asymmetrical, with great flourishes and sometimes little spirals coming off the points.
On the topic of guys:
I talked with the prospective dude a bit further, today. He seems to be a morning person. Discovered a randy early-morning text, once I finally woke up. The cat apparently missed the “let her sleep in on Mother’s Day” memo, even if she had SO much cat food left. LOL. But it’s okay. She’s pretty loveable. And it’s not like I was up THAT much before my alarm.
Had missed a few things in his profile when I glanced through it, after he’d messaged. There’s not much to his bio, so I guess in a way it makes sense that I got as far as “Hm, cute, and TALL.” And, cute. That helped seal the deal.
My favorite combination. Pretty and tall. I know, me and a million other people, right? I also like Pumpkin Spice Lattes and the smell of vanilla body care products. The very height of basic. Alas.
Not that I’ve never crushed on anyone closer to my height, but once you have had 6’5″ and get a feel for the way you get his whole chest to yourself when he holds you, standing before you… no face in the way, requiring immediate kissing or recognition… until he leans in… I dunno, there’s something immensely comforting in that.
I once had a cute coworker guy stand on a curb and offer me a goodnight hug while I was flat-footed on the parking lot asphalt. Similar effect.
This present tall dude also has a graduate degree, and he’s just a year or two younger than me. Well, color me impressed!
He doesn’t want kids (I mean… mine is gone… but again, I am knowingly getting WAY ahead of myself). And his “looking for” covers pretty much everything. The full spectrum from friendship/casual to long-term. So who knows how to read that?
My current thought on what guys actually mean by this is that they’re just hoping to get laid, but there may be a VERY VERY SLIM outside chance they’ll take you seriously, if they like you “enough,” whatever that means. Maybe that’s the essence of straight guy online dating behavior. For the prettier ones, anyway.
He said he goes with the flow, but that if things worked out, he wouldn’t mind it becoming a regular thing. At the same time, our conversations have been pretty centered on booty. So, yeah.
I’ve given some other more humanizing details, and he’s responded kindly. I suppose I could try asking him some questions, to get a better feel for who he is, instead of drawing my own conclusions from a profile, and past experience. And like three or so conversations. Maybe four. I may *sarcastic shudder* actually want to get to KNOW him first. GASP!
It feels quite overtly like situationship material thus far, even if it seems premature to be assessing that. Not that I’m necessarily banking on even that little amount of involvement being mutual, but it’s giving possible future heartache.
BUT I am bored. And a pretty guy is one of my favorite ways to simultaneously distract and motivate myself.
Maybe that sounds awful. I’m not sure if I trust my compass on that.
Suddenly I’m thinking of Nina Simone singing “I Want a Little Sugar in my Bowl.” And the crude but passionate dialogue in Point of No Return where the female assassin tells her handler what she loves about it.
It’s almost summer. I can always blame seasonal hormones.
Whatever remain at this phase in my life. Clearly, I’m not as immune to lust as my long-distance bestie says she is these days, if I’m still panting over fictional characters. That always feels so safe, though. They satisfy without posing any sort of threat to one’s stability.
Proceeding (albeit maybe cautiously) seems a better idea than taking no risk whatsoever, I think, even if I am a little gun-shy. Last time, I went in knowingly not very interested, which is its own kind of safety mechanism. It does, however, also limit potential happiness, as well as potential disappointment. And I tend to regret those connections, to varying degrees.
Well, anyway.
I imagine witnessing me wrestling with my dating fears isn’t all that interesting to an outside observer.
Of greater emotional import:
My daughter had said we could at least talk today, as soon as I let her know I was free, and ready. I took my time making breakfast, and had decided I wanted to get that Starbucks drink, since today was the last day of the coupon (and it’s almost 50% off, depending on what you order). AND I think I had heard the blackberry refresher flavor was going to be seasonal.
By the time we’d stopped at Starbucks and returned to my parents’ house to wait for my mom, I had thought, okay, now is my moment. My dad even stepped out for a bit. I was just about to call her, when he came back inside. Didn’t feel right. I wanted her to myself.
Maybe I should have called or texted asking her to call, during breakfast. Still, it was nice, I suppose, to just enjoy my meal.
Then, my dad wanted to sit outside in the garage. We’d no sooner gotten comfortable out there, than my mom was back and ready to head to the garden right away.
From there, my friend had asked (once my mom parted ways with us so she could sit down a bit), if I wanted to grab a bite to eat with her and another of her friends.
So, I got restaurant food two nights in a row. Pretty nice Mother’s Day!
Her friend Tom asserted that it would all be on one check, but I gave him cash that I think covered everything I ordered. I had been planning to pay by card to have more leeway, just in case. I guess it all worked out, regardless. I can always hit him back another time, with gas money, or something, like I did last time.
I texted kiddo while sitting alone outside, on the porch of the house of an older couple who live down the way from my friend’s parents. That’s where we waited for Tom. But kiddo didn’t get back to me until we were seated at Applebee’s.
So, in the end, I texted kiddo today, and we talked about Sleep Token. She wants more input from me about the new album. I kinda forgot and have been listening to some Daylist stuff.
BUT… we didn’t get a chance to actually chat. She goes to bed so early when she works the following morning. Those pesky 5 ish AM wakeups.
I hope it didn’t hurt her feelings that I wasn’t able to get that in. I was kind of tied up all day. There wasn’t much time between me calling for the ride to Starbucks, and my ride arriving. I spent all that time getting ready, for potential photos. We might have talked then, I guess, if I carried the phone around from room to room, or while I did my makeup. BUT that was when my friend called.
Otherwise, I wasn’t alone, and in a good space to talk, until after she went to bed. Sad day. I teared up thinking about her several times today. And I love that she has so much earnest curiosity about my take on Sleep Token’s latest release. She contributes a great deal of thoughtfulness to our relationship, continuously keeping things interesting, and finding points of connection.
For my part, I listen when she wants to nerd out about World of Warcraft or League of Legends. I try to ask intelligent questions, and remember what she tells me, even if I don’t understand all of it.
And she sends lots of pics of their cat, and the horses and kitties at her boyfriend’s mom’s ranch house, where she lives with his stepdad, the cattle farmer.
Well, she did give me permission to post pics of her on social media, after many years when it was forbidden, so I’m guessing it would be okay for me to share something here. I think I did talk to her about posting pics from her visit here, and she was fine with them also showing up on the blog.
Permit me a side-by-side comparison. I had scrolled past a selfie of me from my darker-haired days where I thought I looked an AWFUL lot like her. Maybe older. Crease in my brow, but very, very similar. It felt like a way to be closer to her, even so far apart.
Check these out:
Her eyes are actually gray if you look closely enough, but they look blue from a distance, whereas mine have more green in them (but sometimes also look blue, depending on what I’m wearing and how I do makeup, if I’m wearing any). And here, she has her natural hair color on display. Lighter than my natural color, but darker than my present blonde. Here, I think I had like a chocolate cherry or burgundy or some kind of subtle purple.
How can you ever be that far apart in spirit from someone so clearly stamped by your very DNA?
We’re very different emotionally, but I respect that about her. MANY years ago, I tried to nudge her in the direction of my own style of dating habits, but she rebelled with stubborn monogamy. She’s fiercely loyal. I guess I am, too, at times, in my way. I’m just less prone to compromise, unless I am very, very invested. I maintain she’s the better person.
Aw, just came across “Nights in White Satin.” The Daylist gave me the single, without the outro and the orchestral intro. So, I looked up the other one, myself. I LOVE the phrasing of the monologue outro.
Years ago as an undergrad, I told a crush that I would use it as a speech, if I were valedictorian. He seemed suitably impressed. But my GPA while good was not quite that high LOL. I did graduate with honors. Just not the very tip-top of the class.
He also (gah back to discussing my love life, tangentially, but nothing ever happened with this one– just a lot of pent-up flirtation from him that apparently meant nothing)….
anyway…
He ALSO attended my presentation of my essay on The Lost Boys, that I submitted for the Humanities Essay Award. My girlfriend and family were there, as well, but it was him I wanted there the most. He loved the essay. The archetypally-queer vampire. The essay, I mean. Not the dude. He was more the hippie type, with a well-established feminine side, prone to poetry and literature, while also still kind of skeevy, in a way I found very appealing, at the time.
The essay contest: I won. Everyone asked what I planned to buy with the prize money. “Groceries,” I said, and they laughed. But I wasn’t joking. We were low on food. My family never would have allowed us to go without if we needed the help, but it felt better not to have to ask.
And my mom PROUDLY declared, “Maybe you can make money writing about that kind of thing” (it was a fairly lurid essay in places).
WELL SHOOT… the “full” version of “Nights in White Satin” on Spotify doesn’t include the outro either. It’s so BEAUTIFUL though!!! Essentially poetry. That’s rather disappointing. Unless it’s hiding and I haven’t yet found it.
AH HA!!! I found a “lyrics match” track called “The Night” that’s over 7 minutes long. I’m feeling optimistic. But I plan to listen to all of it, not just skip to the end to see.
Meandering back around to the point… motherhood was the whole point of today, and I barely saw my own mom, and didn’t get a chance to talk to my daughter.
It was a good day in a selfish way, I suppose?
I enjoyed what I did. The garden was fun. Got a lot of outdoor walking in. That was good. Dinner was tasty.
And my breakfast was top tier. I went a little overboard, I think, and maybe my dad thought so, when I told him what all I had eaten, when he asked if I wanted a cookie or anything, and I said no, I was very full.
But it was a special occasion kind of day. AND at the restaurant, I just had an appetizer quesadilla, and diet soda. I snacked a little at home, later, but not a lot.
My breakfast: two eggs over medium, on top of a piece of pan-fried toast, hot sauce and sour cream on top of the eggs; two strips of bacon (also done on the stovetop… I can’t believe I have been microwaving it for so long when it tastes infinitely better fried); the rest of my steak; the rest of my shrimp; and a second piece of toaster-toast with jam.
Never had “lunch.”
AH HA… THIS IS the version of the song with all the spoken poetry stuff at the end. “But we decide which is right, and which is an illusion.”
I’m a big fan of sprawling hippie music.
Uncut “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” all day, baby, and The Doors’ “The End,” and all the good stuff.
I once said someone really needed to listen to “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida,” especially the drum solo, until they got their head on straight. Music is healing.
So yeah. Not a bad day by any stretch and WHOA BOI has it ever gotten late. I didn’t get home until I think well after 9 though. But damn, how long have I been typing?!
I guess we can wrap it up hereabouts?
Suddenly, I don’t feel awake enough to last through a 17 minute song. For shame! But I added it to my “hippie frisbee golf” playlist. Will have it there for safekeeping, for later.
I guess I did go to dinner with my mom yesterday, and kiddo and I texted some, like nearly every day since forever LOL. Hopefully, she still feels the luv. My mom wore her new bracelets today!!! She was so pleased with how they looked with her purple outfit. I bet we looked good together in the photos of the two of us, with coordinating clothing.
I noticed that they still fit a little big on her. They’re not subtly stretched out as intended, but more dangly. She said she didn’t mind. They are still small enough to stay on. She’s just an awfully little lady, at this point.
Anyway. Okay, time to wrap up. I am dilly-dallying because I am VERY close to Daylist refreshing. Forever burning the midnight oil, and then some. BUT… let me add my categories and tags, and bid you all good night and good morrow.
Well, I just discovered a pic to close out with, taken in the middle of a garden: a sign with a Shakespeare quote painted on it, that has me feeling rather optimistic, because I can be irrationally superstitious at times. They do (the “infamous they”) say the universe is forever talking to us, if we bother to listen.
I also saw some phrases in passing on Spotify that would lead me to a very different interpretation of my present circumstances.
Maybe for tonight, we’ll place our money on the bard.
I mentioned him in Wishful Sinful, in a very lewd bit of dialogue, that had me cackling, when I wrote it. Considering how raunchy some of Shakespeare’s imagery was (thinking of “horseflesh” and the like… lots of subtle and not-so-subtle wordplay), I think he’d appreciate the nod.
Peace!
All the Bright and Sparkly Things 
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