Hold On

Got an aarp solicitation in the mail the other day.
I will not capitalize the letters.
No thanks.
Very much. I'm good.
I Am Good.
So
Good.
So much fun being on the widowed hit list -
Surely they aren't aware of my rollicking early middle-aged WidowFest.

Sounds like an ale.

WidowFest.

Yes.
Come on board.
SUCH
a blast. I'm like...
The Shark Boat.

For example, tonight.
No golf carts for me, or life-alert.
Nope.
Instead, my girl, today dressed as Annie for a Halloween Fair, went off on a sleep-over with family.
And I was left, Solo.
Face-paint still on,
hand tattoo (sweetly applied by a fifth grade boy)
of pink-skulls-and-all that read,
Party Girl,
with nowhere to go.

Again, a spontaneous moment of down-time-that-should-be-up-time! leaves no time for coupled friends and tired moms to line up their own escapes.
And.

That's it.

Just,
And.

It's OK. It is.
But are they all secretly dining out with other happy
pairs
or are they truly exhausted and bed bound.
Just curious.
I'll never know.
Easy to stay in with company.
Must be.
Hell, I'd do it.

Took myself to a movie, 12 Years a Slave which my iphone so helpfully auto-corrected in a text to my brother as:
12 Years of Solace.

For Real.

It said that.

Best laugh of the day as I sipped my wine and snacked on appetizers at a restaurant counter -
warmed by a fire, face-paint and tattoo unnoticed, book in hand,
Aloof Bartender,
Whiter Shade of Pale moaning in the foreground.

And then I get home and am greeted by Cheryl Strayed's
Sugar Something.
A gift in the mail from a dear friend and it's all I can do to get past the inside cover that shouts inspirational I CAN DO IT thoughts.

WALK WITHOUT A STICK INTO THE DARKEST WOODS.

Wow.
Been there done that.
Warrior Woman Here.
Seriously.
Shark Boat, remember?
Phoenix rising up from the ashes of destruction?

HI.

No Stick Here.
No Oprah either.

I'm all for the inspiration.
In fact, some have said I embody it myself.
But I'd rather go on a cattle drive any day.
Bright, dusty sun, hoof beats that trip, startle and soothe.
Yuck it up with a Marlboro Man.

Leave those dark woods behind.
Sing it:
Hold.
On.