Sparkle – sparkledame

There is a Light

“I think I might be having a breakdown.”

“Really? What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m overwhelmed all the time. My nerves are frayed. I feel like screaming and crying, but instead all I do is eat cookies.”

“Oh that’s normal, that’s just like – you know, life.”

“You have got to be kidding.”

“Now if you said you felt like jumping off the roof of your building then I might be worried, that might put you more in the breakdown category.”

“Great, thanks.”

“What does your therapist say?”

“She’s away at a self-actualization retreat.”

“For how long?”

“A month.”

“Excuse me? That’s fucked up.”

“It did seem a little long.”

“Have you talked with your family doctor?”

“She’s only allowed fifteen minutes per patient, that’s not a lot of time to get into things. But she suggested using a seasonal affective disorder lamp and taking more vitamin D.”

“Right.”

“What if I turn into one of those crazy women who wanders the streets jibber-jabbering?”

“I’m not going to let my best friend live on the streets, you can jibber-jabber at my place. In fact, I just put a new bed in the basement guest room.”

“Okay, well everyone needs a back up plan, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So you think I’m okay? Like I’m not emotionally unraveling?”

“I didn’t say that. I think you are emotionally unraveling.”

“Oh.”

“But I think emotionally unraveling is good. You know like when your necklaces get all jumbled together and stuck in a giant knot? And you have to sit down and slowly untangle each piece from the other? Right now you’re that knot. But as you unravel yourself you will re-discover all the beautiful gemstones that were hiding in the tangled mess. And you will sparkle again. You will sparkle like a motherfucker.”

A Normal Mother

“It’s 70 degrees today. Not normal for March.”

“I know, isn’t it lovely? I’m getting a little color on my face.”

“It’s global fucking warming, it’s not lovely.”

“Oh Jesus, so now we can’t enjoy a sunny day?”

“Your generation ruined everything. Our planet is dying, there’s no affordable housing and the government is corrupt.”

“Every generation thinks like that. And by the way, we didn’t exactly have it easy: we had Reagan, the AIDS epidemic, multiple recessions and teal eyeliner.”

“Whatever.”

“What is up with you today?”

“What is up with me? Well, I’m a little upset that we’re taking part in a genocide, that a wannabe dictator might be running for President & that our parks are full of people living in tents.”

“You need to have sex. Your energy would be more balanced if you were having regular orgasms. Your father and I have more sex than you do.”

“Why can’t you be a normal mother?”

“A spring fling would lighten you up. What about that guy over there? He’s cute AND he’s reading an actual hardcover book. Old school.”

“Mom, stop it, I’m not up to any of your shenanigans today.”

“That’s your problem: you need more shenanigans in your life. You’re young. Your life should be overflowing with shenanigans. Plus he’s totally checking you out right now.”

“Mom, I beg you, for the love of God just stop it.”

“Alright alright, but listen: you gotta get rid of this gloomcore vibe, it’s not going to get you anywhere. And it’s bad for your skin, you’re getting frown lines.”

“Thanks, like I don’t feel shitty enough. I’m telling dad that you told me to get Botox.”

“For someone who didn’t go to theatre school you’re a real drama queen. I know the world is fucked up, I get it. It’s terrifying. But you still need – and deserve – to experience joy. You still need to fall in love. You still need to feel the sun on your face and rejoice at the freckles it brings out on your nose.”

“So I should just “shake it off” like Taylor says?”

“Exactly. Just fucking shake it off and start living your life despite the gloomcore of it all.
Live big.
Live madly.
Live every color of the rainbow.”

“Fine. FINE. I’m going to ask the cute guy what book he’s reading. How’s that for living big?”

“It’s a damn good start my love. Go forth and copulate.”

Slay

You know how balloons sometimes look over-inflated? Like they might burst at any moment? That’s you.

When you explode, will your anger come blasting out like a dragon spewing fire? That’s what I imagine. Not sure what I’ll do, dragons are hard to slay.

I’ve never experienced having to walk on eggshells and I don’t like how they feel. You might think egg shells wouldn’t hurt, but you would be wrong; my feet are scraped raw.

Don’t know how we got here, but it’s not a destination that I ever wanted to visit. I would like to leave immediately. Can we hop on a plane? Maybe if we go someplace tropical your anger will melt away.

Surely the universe or God wants better for us. Then again I’m not sure I believe in God. I pray every night, but that might just be a leftover habit from two excruciating years of Catholic school.

Living in anger’s house is exhausting. I have never been this tired. But, my spirit is slowly re-awakening. It’s as if my spirit went for a spa weekend and came back feeling renewed – remembering how to sparkle again.

And guess what? I just found out that sparkle can slay dragons.

Art by Lou Benesch

Must Wear Beige

“Oh for the love of God, I don’t want to go to this bridal shower today. Why do I have to? Steven – why do I have to go to this godforsaken shower?”

“You owe me,” yelled Steven from down the hall. “I went to that hideous work event with you so now you have to go to my partner’s third wife’s bridal shower.”

“But she’s a nightmare! Major narcissist, faux listener, gossips 24/7 & only wants to talk about her farm to table lifestyle blog – which by the way is hilarious because she doesn’t even cook, so what exactly is she bringing from farm to table? She’s going to be a horrible mother, just horrible.”

“Why don’t you write that in her card, I’m sure she would love those words of support.”

“Very funny. That whole group are like the Nouveau Millennial Stepford Wives. And I just ‘can’t’ with the beige theme. I mean the invite actually said “Must Wear Beige” – who does that? And you know how washed out beige makes me look.”

“It’s a rough life hon, I feel for ya,” Steven said as he skipped down the stairs.

“Okay, focus Susan focus. I know I have a light caramel shift-dress in here somewhere, that will have to do. And my cream vintage sweater with the sequins and rhinestone buttons, that’ll look good together.

“Steven?”

“I’m downstairs, what?”

“These girls are very minimalist, can I get away with rhinestone buttons and sequins?”

“Have you lost your mind? You are a grown-ass woman, wear what you want! As long as it’s not hot pink or lime green, you’ll be fine. I mean you’re twice the age of these women, so who cares?”

“Nice. Thank you for reminding me that I could me this woman’s mother. Like I’m not feeling ancient enough. They’ll all have that perfect glow-y skin & thick eyebrow-look and I’ll just be sitting there like their plump grandma wearing a loud sparkly sweater.”

“Actually I think her grandma and her mother are going to be there, so you can hang out with them if it makes you more comfortable.”

“So funny I forgot to laugh. I’m going to murder you.”

“How? How are you going to murder me.”

“I can’t tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Ha!” Steven said as he rounded the corner into their bedroom with a glass of wine for her.

“Drink this, it’ll make you feel better and I’ll bring you over so don’t worry about driving.”

“Thanks,” Susan said as she took a large sip.

“You can add some lip balm to your cheeks to get that glow-y look you mentioned. I read about it in The New York Times Style Section.”

“You read a beauty article about using lip balm on your face?” Susan asked.

“Yep. I know you’re not a huge fan of makeup and beauty stuff, but some of these products are amazing! Last week I bought a facial exfoliating cream and I love it. My skin looks brighter and it’s softer. Not that you ever noticed.”

“I feel like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“By the way, don’t forger her name – it’s Astamaria – last time you called her ‘Astralmaria.’”

“I did not, you are such a liar!” Susan said laughing.

Steven kissed Susan’s neck and whispered, “don’t let those gals get to you, you’re my Queen and you’re beautiful as fuck!”

Sparkle Brain

I never, ever remember that I had a brain aneurysm coiled a few yrs ago, but I just found this…

I can now officially say that I have a sparkly brain! On Wednesday I had my brain aneurysm “coiled” with platinum – so swanky! The surgery went smoothly, for which I’m very grateful. But My God Almighty, I have never experienced headaches like that. I spent the night riding waves of intense nausea mixed with the most brutal pain.

As with all my medical experiences, it had an absurd, comical side to it: the patient next to me had a visitor, (dressed head-to-toe in bedazzled splendour), who was blasting Celine Dion while performing a weird interpretive dance (in an ICU-type recovery room). And no, I’m not exaggerating.

The doctors wrote me a prescription for Percocet to help with the headaches and I was paranoid that I would become addicted. That I would end up like Nurse Jackie, doing anything to secure my next high. Once home though the drugs were a godsend and I spent most of the day dreaming of Iron Maiden – who were dressed like Wizards – flying through the sky!

(Author’s Note: A special thanks goes out to my cancer! Had I not been in the hospital being treated for Mesothelioma – where I ended up with “Neuroleptic Malignant Syndrome” after a bad reaction to a drug – I never would have had my brain scanned and my aneurysm would have gone untreated. So thank you Mesothelioma!)

Leroy

Leroy, my precious street-dog, is on the decline & my heart feels like it is breaking into tiny little bits, like a crumbling cookie. People always say, “oh how wonderful that you rescued that dog!” But really, it’s how wonderful that he rescued me. When I found him wandering on the streets of Los Feliz, I lassoed him with my H & M shrug and brought him home. Because what else could I do? He saved me from an unhappy marriage. He brought joy into my life and into the life of my beloved Corgi, little Quinny. The two of them were inseparable rascals, always up to some backyard shenanigans. When Quinny became very sick and I had to put her down, Leroy and I mourned her death. We were partners in sadness.

For the last year as I’ve been recovering from cancer treatment Leroy has been by my side, but now it seems his days as my canine personal support worker are numbered. We are up every night with his “doggy dementia,” and I am well aware that those who love me are worried about my health. I am not sleeping because of his cognitive dysfunction and that leaves me with a weakened immune system. Not ideal for a cancer patient. And yet, he still loves his walks. He enjoys the rush of finding a pizza crust in a bush. At the dog park he is reserved, careful not to get in the way of the younger more agile dogs, but he still thrives on it. The other day he met a dog as big as a pony and that thrilled him to no end. He still has a little sparkle left in him, but less & less. My heart is starting to prepare itself for when the sparkle runs dry.