Glitter, Wizards, and Poop

I am discovering a new form of happiness. Well, new to me. I am sure it has been on the market and purchased by others for quiet some time now, but until recently, I had yet to jump on the bandwagon. What is a bandwagon? Why would a band need a wagon? I was in marching band, we marched, nobody rode in a wagon. Well, except for the gay boys in the band, but they were just sissies. Stupid fags. Wow, that was off subject, even for me. I beg your forgiveness. No, actually, I don’t. It’s my blog and I can cry if I want to. Or, in this case, be pointlessly offensive. Yay!
Anyway, happiness. I set up my Christmas tree nearly a month ago now (can’t believe how fast that went). True, I did not have the man I love by my side, rolling his eyes as I twitter with glee over my “Little Mermaid” decorations. Truth be told, I contemplated not putting up a tree this year. I am glad I did. It’s pretty. And sparkles. Thus entrancing. My little brother and I spent all day yesterday Christmas shopping; I spent today Christmas shopping too! It makes me so happy. I love it. Seeing things that remind you of someone you love and then paying it off sometime in July! And then, Wrapping!!!!!!!! I love it!!! Even more sparkles. Ribbon. Color themes. Last year was Earth tones (my best yet). This year is silver and teal tones (pretty, but nothing beats Earth tones). No, I am not buying presents for the boy I love. It was going to be a dog, puppy actually. I guess it worked out for the best though. While I may be the best present wrapper I know, at least on my block, I have no idea how to wrap a puppy. Pee stains on the paper kinda ruin the festive, sparkly feel. Unless you’re into that kind of thing. If you are, Christmas is probably not your favorite holiday anyway. Oh, speaking of, it is official. This year, it is Christmas time with Christmas trees. Not holiday time or winter season time. Way to go Wal-Mart. Gay friendly and not afraid to call stupid politically correct shit ‘stupid political correct shit!’ How very progressive. My white trash roots are proud!
Oh, yes, happiness. So, while I was Christmas shopping, buying myself some wine goblets for my table at Z Gallaries, I got a text from TB asking if I would like to come over and help he and JS decorate for the winter holiday season and have dinner. I texted back a swift reply of, ‘fuck off, I have better things to do than decorate trees and eat.’ Actually, no, I didn’t. I squealed, wet my pants, the clerk kindly gave me a paper towel to clean up the mess (she didn’t do it herself. I know, rude right? Should’ve gone to Wal-Mart.), and I texted back a quick reply of “Yes!!!!” By the way, I know texted isn’t a word, but I don’t care. Texted, texted, texted. If said three times, it becomes a word (I do believe in fairies!). There you go, my gift to you: a new word for the holiday season and the New Year. Texted: Feel free to use with abandon, free of guilt!
So, I picked up a fruit tart (not a word, I will hurt you) from Whole Foods, and went home to see my babies, do an online class assignment, and change clothes. Here is where the happiness comes in. As I was getting dressed (looking good tonight, I must say, despite the fifteen pounds I have gained the past week [oh, were that I spoke in jest]), I entered my bathroom from my bedroom closet to be met with the glorious sight of Dunkyn and Dolan laying side by side, both looking up at me in expectant adoration. I had a moment. Shocking. The holidays have heightened my sense of loneliness and loss as of late, but there in my bathroom were two beautiful lives that are a constant expression of love, going in both directions. I bent down, the fifteen pounds hanging joyfully over my belt, and buried my face into their fur and we wallowed in our mutual love of each other. Truth be told, they did much more licking than I, but still…
Then this new happiness enveloped me while I was at my friends’ house, eating (Homemade spaghetti, my tummy is still happy), decorating, and watching the second Lord of the Rings (could that be any longer?). These two men have been in my life for five plus years and have been key factors in my sense of joy, self, and maturity. We no longer have to focus on our common pains and hurts (although that is still a part, as it is an any real relationship), we can simply live our lives with each other, intentionally. Happiness. It would have been happier had I not arrived at TB’s street only to realize I had left the fruit tart (shut up!) in my refrigerator back home (20 minutes away). I dare not show up absent a fruit tart (really, you’re pushing it), so I drove back and picked it up and then traversed back again. On the good side, I got to listen to nearly an hour of ‘Wizard’s First Rule’ (very good, btw) on CD, so it was not completely a loss.
What greeted me when I got back home after the festivities? Well, yes, pee on the floor of my garage, but more than that, my little boys’ excitement to see their fruit tart of an owner (you know, at some point, you just gotta own it…).
While listening to my book on tape I realized something. While the book is very good, I have known what was going to happen from the first chapter. There were many twists and surprises, but I knew them, all. Not a bit of that lessened my enjoyment of this wonderful tale. Yeah, part of the point is to get to the end, to the conclusion, the climax, the purpose. But, if that was all there was, I would have missed out on thirty-three hours of the journey, the details, the pain, the beauty. I guess, for this moment, at least, I am happy that my life’s story is not at its ultimate purpose or result or fulfillment. Life is nothing if not details, the small ones. The ones that make a life deep, colorful, sparkly. Pain is a huge part of the details, as is loneliness, and doubt of the purpose and result. However, those details also include true friends, loving family, dog kisses, wrapping paper, maturity, deepening, and pee on the garage floor. My new happiness is not giddy, rose-colored, or undiluted. It is a happiness full of loss, pain, even desperation at times. It is a happiness that is strong, endures (even though it may take a hiatus from time to time), and soaks up the details.
Sigh…
Well, I must stop the vomiting of words and interrupt my loving dogs from their feast of rabbit poop. It is time for me to crawl into the futon and drift to sleep as I am covered by doggy kisses. Glorious poopy doggy kisses. Has there ever been a better or truer description of love?