Today we had this really awesome storm and it developed RIGHT OVER my fucking town. Then it traveled south and fucked shit up.

My mom came home early and asked if I thought I should bring Howie in. It was raining pretty hard, but the thunder was far off and Howie had his head buried in some mud, happily wallowing away.

"I don't know," I said. "It's not that bad."

And then, possibly because I have, in the past, risked my life bringing Howie in from storms that suddenly intensified, my mom suggested I check the radar.

"Hey, Mom. What's the difference between a tornado warning and a tornado watch?"

"Molly, bring in your duck."

Right as I got outside, there a simultaneous brilliant flash and earth-shaking BOOM. I went "Dude!" and Howie humped my leg in fear. We got inside safely and all was well.

Anyway, May was kind enough to sign my guestbook with my swamp analogy from last night. Here is the conversation:

"This place, man. This state. Well, not the whole state coz Cocoa Beach is cool. But right here. It's like a fucking swamp. It's all stagnant and shit. And, instead of alligators, we've got fucking tourists. (From May- Maybe you said old people?) And, instead of fucking swamp disease, we've got fucking complacency. Holy shit. I think my head's going to..."

"Explode?"

"Yeah."

You see, kids? Having one sober person at the table is a good thing.

What's funny is this state is a swamp. I don't know what the fuck I was talking about. Maybe if I lived somewhere like Arizona it would make sense, but no.

Speaking of states that aren't Florida, THANK YOU for the travel suggestions.

You know I'm so there.

I finally finished my travel mixtape this afternoon. I called it This Is How I Go and it's mostly songs that talk about leaving or use the word "go" a lot. And then there are some songs that remind me of the things I want to figure out. I'll probably post the list later, complete with a line from each song that illustrates why I used it.

Why, yes. I am feeling a bit bored.

There was something else I wanted to mention, but I forgot what it was.

Oh, I remember.

Tomorrow (the 20th) is the two year, six month anniversary of K offing himself. Is it bad that I can already feel the shit in my chest start to revolt? I mean, the normal and sane part of me is saying, "Enough is a fucking enough." But the other part of me is saying that it's good I use milestones to get all the bad shit out at once. Not a day goes by where I don't think about him, but the crying jags and hitting fits have dramatically decreased. This is healing, right? And even if I suddenly realize it's the two year, two month and two week anniversary of his death and fall asleep crying, at least I'm fucking dealing with it.

I don't know. I had a dream about him last night. I miss him.

<<< TOP >>>