‘I will hold on to you’
“Please don’t
Ever become a stranger
Whose laugh I
Would recognize anywhere.”
Happy New Year’s Day to everyone who didn’t vote away my right to credit cards, bank accounts, property ownership and the Social Security that I have already paid FAR MORE into than most of the voters ever will.
The rest can fuck alllllllll the way off. Go into your fucking holes and die in pain like my mother had to.
Speaking of going into a hole, it’s a Hermit year for the collective. 2025 adds up to 9.
If I add in my month and day of birth, I get 12, the Hanged Man as my personal card of the year.
I could reduce that further to 3. But that would make 2026 my Emperor year. Unfortunately President Musk ascends this year, so I don’t need to extend that shit.
My friend CJ got the Hanged Man card and it spooked him. I said it’s a good card unless your reader used the Thoth deck.
He sent a pic … of the Hanged Man in the Thoth deck. Yeesh. No wonder he won’t look at it otherwise.
I mainly use decks from Tarot Collectibles, and he’s reimagined Rider-Waite very lovingly and positively. Like, one of the Hanged Man cards has butterfly wings. Another has bat wings. And the colors are psychedelic and/or, depending on the deck, sparkly.
And we know how I love pink and sparkly anything!
It’s Italian tradition to wear red underwear on New Year’s Eve if you want to attract love.
Fuck that shit. I wore green to attract money.
When I sat down to write my vision for this year, I focused more on manifesting discipline than companionship. So, the Emperor’s main quality.
I didn’t even bother with my usual list of things I want in a place to live. In true Hanged Man style, I just want to chill and see what comes to me.
I also decided to do a No-Buy 2025. I have a page full of things I can/can’t buy.
Even right now, I’m twitchy because I didn’t buy pork and sauerkraut for New Year’s Day for good luck.
But, I had both last year and my baby died 25 days later. Will not eating the lobster sushi I bought for today make me luckier? Keep that 15 bucks, girlie and enjoy that $19 sushi as intended.
And that bottle of Mom’s favorite champagne, too, obviously.
I did promise myself that. All traditions are out the fucking window without Momma.
But I promised myself to always toast her with “Bug Juice,” the original name of the sparkling wine she loved most.
Hold on to the memories
They will hold on to you
I will hold on to you.
I really hit the jackpot living with her. Which I didn’t really realize for most of the 17 years I had her.
I know two people who are pursuing legal action against people they lived with. My one friend bought a house with a deadbeat who won’t help her sell it. She’s paying half the mortgage, rent, all the utilities at her new place, PLUS Florida just ordered her to pay half HIS utilities. Even though he’s trashed their house to the point no one will buy it.
Man did I get lucky “just” having my mom instead of someone to suffer through boring ass sex but a proper financial fucking from.
Yeah, definitely not in a rush to put myself out there for that kind of shit outcome.
As for me, Taylor Swift said something profound during one of her rain shows.
As she prepared to play her first surprise song of the night, she said, “My life finally makes sense.”
That’s what I want more than anything. For my life to make sense.
I know that’s a big “resolution” for New Year’s Day. But I picked a couple areas where sense needs to return. And I think it’s quite manageable and even possible.
Though I still think I need some kraut anyway. Don’t wanna forget how Momma used to make it. Which was goooooood.
Happy 2025, Momma and Cocoa, wherever you are. You’re coming with me, wherever it takes me. And I hope it’s quite far.