I am imagining the beginning of a song that I have not yet written — all I have is the bass line, and some semblance of melody, and a feeling about the beat.  Not an idea, or phrasing even, but just a feeling — a facial expression, an I’d-like-to-bop-my-head-like-this.  This beginning has been swirling around my brain for just over a week, and I know I’m nearing the sit-down-and-knock-it-out part, but I kinda like the swirls.  Swirls have amazing amounts of potential.  Swirls are going to make me famous.  Swirls are hits! 

My swirls for this blog are superb.  They are going to make me a better writer, a better person, a better griever, a better friend, a better communicator, a better listener.  I’m going to make staggering realizations about life and love and you know, YouTube, and share them with the world (or, you know, my Dad and my therapist), and also generate millions of dollars from ad revenue and get a book deal.  This blog will make me famous.  This blog is a hit!

Yes!

Right.

So.

Um.

The truth?  My mom died in November.  It has enveloped my world in unbelievable layers of suck… and beauty and love… and then some more suck.  I don’t really know where I am or what happened or who’s left, but I do know that there is a lot of joy in this world and shit, I better seek it out.  Or just open my eyes.  Dig through the suck.   My dear friend, whose radically grateful blog indeed inspired this one, writes, “Cynicism is boring.”  Moreover, cynicism is easy — it’s the mac n’ cheese to my homemade lasagna.  Easy and gross.  The hangover is a bitch.  Nothing that color should ever be ingested.  I’m mixing my metaphors here.  Where was I.  (This blog is a hit!) 

I have so, so, so many things to be grateful for, and about, and um, with.  On.  In.  I am, indeed, full of grate great.  So on this lovely Earth Day, 2010, I will resist the urge to say F—K YOU, SUNSHINE, and instead begin the daily practice of gratitude.  For my mama. And for me.  And for you. 

And for the swirls.

/ book deal.

Tally ho,

L