Normally I’m riddled with anxiety. But on this Christmas Day, I took a long walk, argued with idiot Trump voters on Facebook, enjoyed my Panrsuit Nation friends, dressed up like an elf, dressed my cat up like an elf, ate delicious food and chilled with a hot cup of blueberry tea.
Today we learned the world spared Carrie Fisher but took George Michael. 2016 is going to suck until its bitter end. Then it’s nuclear war thanks to Deputy Dumbshit down the road when he moves to my beloved Washington.
I’ll worry about all that, and then some, tomorrow.
Today I learned that someone has a crush on me. I’m terrified and yet I feel limitless.
That I can have people treat me poorly and try in their pitiful way to make me feel “lesser than.” And yet others think I am pretty terrific just as I am, as “Bridget Jones” once put it.
Just as I am.
So yeah. I’m going to keep being me. And snarking and changing my hair color and dancing and dreaming and moving along with my life.
But yeah. Me. Bring loved.
I mean it’s not a new concept. I know of many songs that were sung about me. But it’s nice to know what when I was getting snapped at and put down by lesser people, others didn’t see the scratched soul.
They saw something special. They saw me, just as I am. And it wasn’t just that I was good enough, but even better.
Merry day, indeed.