purple haze

though the temptation to watch oprah's episode featuring the pregnant man is very strong, my desire to sit out on the back porch in my wife beater and panties while listening to the awesome pounding of thunder and occassionally catch a glipse of a hot white lightening bolt slam to the ground (hopefully not too close to where i sit happily sipping an abita purple haze, "a crisp, american style wheat beer with a fresh raspberry puree added after filtration") and write, is stronger.  for that i am so happy. 

this morning in the bath, i finished a book called, "hypocrite in a poufy white dress."  as is typical for me, immediately upon the completion of a book i found not just enjoyable but actually good enough to cause the contemplation of my own life and imminent death; possibly even a fleeting moment of that "one-ness" bob marley spoke of, sans pot. and of course, i'm instantly depressed because it's over and now i need to find a new book.

ahhh.....the sweetest most perfect wind just blew through my unbrushed hair and my puple haze is just about gone, as are my children and husband, so rather than sit here and write more like i "should" i believe i'm going to do something completely irrational like....hold on....it's coming....oh shit, i had temporary amnesia and forgot that i live in boone, nc where the most exciting thing to do is/was to drink at the bar known as the "boone saloon" owned by our lovely friends whose names i won't mention due to the female half of said bar requesting i keep her identity annonymous....(love you, K...Y!)

so i believe i will venture out to one of the two bookstores here to giddly peruse the shiny happy covers holding hands. 

because honestly, i'm in a bit of a funk. i truly have so much to be happy for AND my kids are gone and i have all this TIME to lounge, debauch, sleep, read, eat, drink and be merry and i actually, kind of, sort of....really miss them a lot. they're my buddies and i don't give a shit what those self-help books say about that. i have a couple boundaries...don't hit, don't steal, don't wake me up from my nap and fireworks are o.k. until you lose body parts (or some recent vet comes knocking on my door on new year's eve telling me you need to get a clue about the danger of explosives). love is the answer, really, it is. 

the quality of the maharashi for today is "ultimate creativity" and i had such grandiose plans earlier on to paint some sort of "cystine chapel meets dali" masterpiece but now all i wanna do is go to wal-marx and try on ridiculous clothes and take self-portraits in the dressing room. 

life is good. god it's good.