Greeting & Salutations, Darling Ones,
Forewarning: I’m so exhausted from lack of sleep I feel a little drunk. I’m the kind of slap-happy last-one-up-at-the-slumber party kind of tired. Every time I go to the bathroom I stare at myself in the mirror and remind myself that I’m not drunk. Also, I am sitting in the dark listening to The Replacements. Specifically, I’m listening to “If Only You Were Lonely” on repeat. This is vital information you need to know.
There are two things that I want to remember about this day in this interminable, sleepless nothing time before the election, a time where my brain can’t think past Wednesday and I’m about 85% convinced that at 12:01 on Wednesday, November 4th Porky Pig is gonna pop out the sky and say “Th-th-th-that’s all folks!”
On Halloween 2002, I posted a conversation about Halloween costumes I had with my pal Wondergeek. At some point between then and now I told him how much that whole exchange delighted me. Today he tweeted at me, “Wearing my favorite Halloween costume today @jodiwilldare The Handsome Stranger.”
This super delighted me because not only did he think of me, he told me about it. A lot of the time I feel like an untethered, superfluous person kind of floating out here all alone having little impact on anyone*. I’m super afraid of slipping into the ether unremembered. I’ve read A Brief History of the Dead. I know what happens to the unremembered.
Today while I was talking on the phone with my friend EM (she lives in Madison) the topic of Lucinda, my guitar, came up. My niece, Jaycie, always calls it “la guitarra” because ella estudiviste español en escuela y yo estudio español ahora.
EM and I talked about our guitars and how we both bought them under the misguided notion that our high school/college musical skills would translate to guitar.
They did not.
“Really, I was hoping my guitar playing skills would entice cute guitar-playing boys to fall in love with me,” I said.
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” she said.
Then I went on to tell her how Wolfodgg busts out Lucinda every time he is over here and then lectures me about tuned-ness and rusty guitar strings.
“It’s basically the opposite of a guitarboy falling in love with me,” I said.