I got a pedicure this evening and I drove around after with the heater on full blast on the floor vents only to help dry them before I returned home to twelve paws to greet me and ruin them. I did not have my glasses with me and it was dark so I was leaning heavily on the center divide and questioning just about every little thing that ran out in front of me. While sitting at a four-way stop something very small and dark ran out in front of me, I squinted and drove forward a bit, and then a large raccoon came out followed by two more little fellas. I turned with them and went super slow so no one would hit them as they crossed the road. I could care less who I piss off when I am saving an animal. I sat there cheering them on, especially the leader, was he the brave little baby or the guinea pig for the family? Either way, the little lad was successful tonight, thanks to Bossy, my wet toenails, and my obsession with “wasting” parts of my life away. I started a playlist today on my Spotify titled “Fuck It.” I listened to songs that made me dance and sing starting early this morning as I blowdried my hair and trash-talked myself for how long it was taking to get anything at all done today. Time management was not my thing, enjoying myself was…I am pretty sure I won. Today was Avery’s mom time. We went for a walk and I asked if he wanted to share my AirPods, he declined and said he preferred to just talk with me. Again, winning. We walked past the driving range where I always feared a golf ball would somehow manage to clear the seemingly too-high fence to make that possible…nope, today my fear was proven valid. One came over just to the left of us and rolled right on into the grass. I knew it was a possibility and we witnessed it…yup, another win. Avery then said he had an idea on how he could get rich quickly…start a swear jar. The boy ain’t lying. See Brad, I still cuss, don’t count me out yet. I am capable of refraining around people and in environments as need be. I know it drives some people insane and others find it incredibly disrespectful, unintelligent, rude, unattractive, sinful, etc. I mean no harm, but it seems Avery does by suggesting an idea he knows damn well I will lose at. My kids don’t cuss. They don’t even say words like “idiot” or “brat.” Sometimes they will be reading something or telling me a story about some situation they witnessed or whatever and they’ll say, “You know! The baddddd word, mom!” And I’ll ask “fuck…?” and work my way down from there. Wayyyy down. We end up at something like “spaz” or “clown” and I smile and say oh thank God, I thought for sure it was motherfucker and then we laugh. I have always told them when they are adults and out of my house they can decide if they want to cuss, but they need to be aware of their surroundings, audience and if they did not inherit the gene of using the perfect pitch when delivering the classics, they need to just opt the fuck out.

I dropped a knife on my bare foot on Christmas morning. I hollered a bit and got hot sauce a little bit of everywhere, but all was well. I then went to lunch the next day with my father and brother and when the server brought us our food she dropped a steak-ish knife from my forehead height onto my lap. It seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary to her, again, they will hire anyone. And I guess to me too, all I said was well I guess this is an omen and my brother joked I was going to get stabbed as he reached across and pretended to shank me. Look, if I get stabbed, I just want to make note, I knew it, and if I don’t, I just want to note, sometimes I get lucky. I did leave with a terrible migraine that kicked my ass for a solid 24 hours. The boys bought me an espresso machine for Christmas and I am extremely caffeine sensitive the older I get. I only had one on Christmas and one the day after, but I was wiped out from all the holiday shenanigans and it all caught up to me, left me exhausted like the rest of the world, and set me up for a migraine trap-activated by my sweet gift. Any sound was unbearable, my right eye was heavy and closing and the pain was throughout that side of my face and head. The only bonus for anyone was that it hurt for me to even speak so I was silent and mostly in bed for a solid day. And people say I am selfish, make note of my generosity. My left side has always been my stronger side. I throw a football like a mother with my left arm, I write just about the same with both, gibberish, and my left side is my brow game and my lip curl. Between you and me, I like my left boob better too, that is why the right one created Hilda, she wanted a friend to make her feel better. When I think about my left side vs my right, I always try to imagine what happened in utero with me. What that must have been like. What a fucking ride it was to develop and then start having weird thoughts, and who I was already cussing out. I imagine the pep talk I gave myself like, aight Britt (even though I did not have a name yet and it was almost Rainbow Brite), you got this, give em hell and take it easy, you have done this before, this is your next shot, try not to fuck it up, take it easy on the F bomb, nah just kidding…fuckkkkk it, use it with gumption like its the last time you’ll get to feel it leave your lips, be impossibly childish and playful, live like a Karen every now and then, tell Brad to go fuck himself when you meet him and prepare yourself for the magical things being wild in spirit will bring to you this time around and grow from the pain it also brings to you, because there will be suffering as a result of being carefree. Ok, let me be honest, I never have thought about that pep talk and it sure as hell sounds convenient to my life. I did not think about it in utero nor give myself a pep talk. Hell, maybe I did knowing me. But I do think these things now, and I imagine it is because I feel a rebirth of sorts happening in my life. Bird Britt is hatching…again.

New year, new me! Just kidding. I do love to joke about that though. I know I say insensitive shit about home decor and choice of words, names that bother me, etc. And I know I offend people by saying it, but it is nothing I would not say and joke about with you in person, nor am I blind to the fact that I have things, wear things, say things, do things, etc. that people cannot stand. So, new year, not so new me. I will still be this person and just about the same in every other obvious regard. I am not a big believer in setting resolutions for the new year, but I am always happy to use the opportunity for a new start, just like a Monday, a good night’s sleep, bouncing back after being sick, coming back from vacation, or a good spiritual hike. We are always surrounded by the opportunity to do better, we are living in a new one every time we take a breath. No Barb, I will not give up my sailor’s mouth with my next one. Although I did say one New Year’s Eve I would try, and it lasted all of about one hot and very miserable minute. It is just not something I want to “do better.” I do however want to get into a better self-care routine, inside and out. I have implemented quite a lot into my life over the last year and a half and I intend to do more. I want to focus on building myself up as an individual, dive into what my dreams are, and stop telling myself I am not capable of achieving them. I would like to surrender more, for every time I do, I find more peace, faith, and people who add depth to my life. I want to loosen up a bit and embrace some unknowns, I have wound myself up a little tightly in recent years. I am trying to sit with the changes I have experienced regarding how I sometimes feel when I am around people. I feel uncomfortable with this recognization I have of a seemingly sense of obligation of sorts to entertain and fill the silence. I want to be ok with it and not feel so guilty when I just don’t feel like smiling, making a joke, or sharing my thoughts. I would like to be comfortable sharing more facets of myself with more than just a few people. The silent ones, broken, sincere, serious, philosophical, and romantic. My mother has always said I came into the world a jokester eager to make everyone laugh and took life on with a comical charm of sorts. I still tend to lead with this foot (it must be my left one) and I guess I really did pep talk the shit out of my utero baby self…but, if you don’t know this side of me, we likely are not very close, or I don’t like you too much, ha! I get pretty boring around some people, you know who you are…you are the ones who likely know another strong aspect of me instead. The side that is very stoic, bitchy but does not cuss, sucks and holds my cheeks in in-between sentences (my ex-husband always thought this meant I was trying to impress some man in the room) and makes sure my nose does not flare when I speak or laugh. But there is much more to me than either of these options…there is the whole fucking bird. I guess since I have been consciously working on these things really hard throughout this year, I would have to say, I will take the approaching new year to continue to give the whole fucking bird to everyone…and sometimes I am going to have to be ok with that simply meaning just my middle finger.