I'm going to squish the last couple of months into one writing with some highlights and then look forward to some new stories and enlightenment for the coming year. Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed what I've experienced over the past couple of years, but I'll be straight with you, I'm slap wore out and tired of vagabond-ing. I'm ready to settle in to a life. There, I've said it.
Mujeres - My Mom and I took a trip to an island off of the Mexican coast called Isla Mujeres, Island of Women. Probably the best laugh we had was when we were shown to our room and there were 2 swans made of towels on the bed that appeared to be kissing and, get this, rose petals scattered over them and the bed. Now I knew this place probably catered to love bugs when I booked it and they told me there were no rooms with double beds, but COME ON - rose petals? Pre-coitus birds? Talk about rubbing the salt in the wound of a single gal. Then to add some jig to the jag, we went to get the massage that was included in the hotel package, and when I told them I really preferred NOT to have a couples massage with my MOTHER and requested a separate room, they told me there would be an extra charge. I think I said something to the tune of, "Come on, Mom. Let's go get rubbed down." We laughed a LOT on this trip and I will cherish the memory forever.
Muchachos - Unfortunately, I have no steamy stories of new hunks as I remain hunk-less. Actually, I've come to realize I've been too busy and preoccupied to even consider a new hunk until as of late. So this is about my Dad. I know "muchacho" means a young man in Spanish, but I don't know the word for older dude, so this will have to suffice. Let me preface this story with some info - my Dad is legally blind and can't hear a damn thing without his hearing aids. Poor man was dealt with some shitty cards, but he still golfs (and as I understand it, hit a hole-in-one the other day; I wasn't there to witness the feat, but I guess I'll have to go on faith), tools around on his golf cart and keeps up a great lawn. Nothing keeps him back. Anyway, his task while Mom and I were in Mexico was to dog sit the pipsqueaks. No big deal to those of us that can see and hear, right? Add into the equation that Wiley, my rescue pipsqueak, is slightly neurotic and considers everyone a stranger until he deems you otherwise. So getting him on his leash to go outside to do business was going to be a challenge for my Dad. But by God, they made it happen and had no issues. Guinness, however, the one we had no worry about, decided she was going to hide one day and my Dad spent an afternoon in panic thinking she had been carried off of the deck by a hawk. After asking Wiley where she was and getting no reply, he spent the rest of his afternoon with a flashlight looking under beds and finally found her nestled into a corner. She can be a real bitch sometimes. When we returned from our sunning and funning, Dad and dogs were fine. His dog sitting days are probably over, however.
Moving - It just sucks. I don't give a rat's ass if you hire movers or not, it is exponentially more painful than having a pap smear, mammogram and Brazilian wax combined. Times 2. And that's all I have to say about that subject.
Merriment - Here we are on Christmas and I am by myself due to getting sick. Thank LBJ (think The Hangover, not politics) for antibiotics and I'm on the mend, but I still missed out on seeing dear friends, my brother & family and what is always some of the most amazing time I ever have the pleasure of spending. I don't believe I've ever spent a Christmas Eve totally alone, but I did it yesterday and I'm still cruising this world, so I know it's do-able. (The pipsqueaks might be offended as they were my company, so don't tell them I wrote that.) But today, I've been invited to the Gaybors for a cookout on the new grill they bought one another and my beautiful daughter is coming over to eat leftovers with me, so all is definitely not lost. I refused to allow Christmas Eve to be a complete bust, so I baked a stuffed turkey, cooked green bean casserole and homemade gravy (there is NOTHING better than comfort food when you're sick or sad, or both). I listened to the music of the season, watched movies and allowed, once again, the combined 25 lbs. of dog that live here to take over the couch.
Is my life exactly full of all of the magic and fulfillment I desire? Honestly, no. But is what exists in the experiences and the people I am blessed to have filling it NOW enough to keep me hopeful and smiling? No doubt about it, yes. This is a Doing What I Know. Merry Christmas!
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