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I Call It Fucking Fabulous

Sunday, 19 February 2017 —

What the hell is up with people in 2017?  We all have smart phones and are on Facebook constantly and doing all kinds of bullshit that requires zero-thinking and feeding the machine called “the internet”, but we can’t answer text messages, phone calls or fucking show up for social gatherings?  Let me tell you this:  I took two months off from blogging to get my footing steady in my life and re-center and all I’ve done is worry about a bunch of fuckers that don’t worry about me the way I worry about them.  Fuck ’em!

I went to brunch today alone. I called my mom and asked if she and my dad would be interested in joining me.  The cozy, lazy bed they shared seemed more interesting to them.  I understood (kinda) and went on to brunch alone.  Chris is not into eggs, so I let him rest and on the way to the restaurant, I could feel my eyes well up with tears.  I, for once (and probably many times before in my life), feel rejected.  I feel like people are so busy living their own lives and Josh doesn’t matter anymore.  I’ve been phased out.  I was supposed to have plans last night and my friend fell into a coma and didn’t wait up til this morning.  I was wondering what happened there.  This past week, I hosted a wine tasting and folks called off the day of the event.  I just can’t deal with that.  I had wonderful turn-out (15 people to be exact), but the last-minute nonsense kills me.

This time away from the blog has given me a chance to get some loose-ends tied up in my business and home life.  I spend a lot more time preparing meals at home and washing dishes.  It’s starting to bore me.  This is not new as domestic duties have never been my strong-suit.  Today though,  I sat and sipped champagne someone had sent over for me.  Yesterday when Chris and I went out to a thrift store, one of my older blog readers that I rarely see came up the aisle and made the sassy little comment, “is this what the famous Josh Cooley does on his downtime?”

Her smile and her candor were enough for me to smile and engage with her for a few minutes.

I sat and drank champagne and texted Chris and my friend.

Fuck everyone else.  I’m still fabulous.

Two months away from blogging and getting back behind my laptop screen has reminded me, once again, that people don’t make me happy.  I do.

Call it selfish, I call it fucking fabulous.

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