you wouldn't like me if you met me

Home alone in a hot house? Time for baking a cake in a bra and cutoffs, listening to Tegan and Sara. I've become a parody of myself, and cut offs are my new black.

There is a stinkbug trapped, clicking against the stained glass tiffany lamp in the living room. I love the way my house smells when the sun has baked it all day: like sweet, warm old wood, and I've kept it dark tonight except for that one lamp. I'm in kind of a mood all the sudden. Not necessarily a bad mood; today was a pretty good day, but it's more like this kind of fuck this stupid shit I do what I want which probably directly correlates to listening to too much 90s lesbian rock and then writing long sentences about it.

Last night, when I was running, I thought about all the times in my life that I've truly believed I was about to die.* ** I don't mean, like, conceptually understood my mortality or the brevity of life, but I mean having that brilliant, thrilling, cold-flash of an instant like "Wow. Well, okay. This is it. I didn't expect this. Here it comes, I guess."

I'm 26, living in a first world country, so true moments such as these are fairly few--maybe three or four at best. Auto-related, tornado, or that time I fell off a cliff. Each time, the thing that startles me the most in thinking about it afterward was how calm and collected I was about it. Almost mundane-level acceptance, as if on trying to decide between two muffin flavors, I realize instead that the coffee shop is fresh out of muffins, and I will instead need to purchase a croissant.***

I don't actually think this is because I'm a badass. Rather, at times when I believe myself to be staring down the barrel of imminent doom, my brain is likely so pumped with adrenaline that I'm granted some chemical grace. Or maybe the fact that I haven't died is proof that I wasn't in as much danger as I thought, and I don't even know what that feels like to talk about. Sometimes I have this feeling like when I'm actually going to die, I probably won't see it coming at all or have time to feel anything about it at all. I'll just step off the curb and be gone.****

This is all seeming pretty morbid and I'm not really meaning to be. I guess what I really wanted to write about was storms. I always get a little funny during tornado season. All my life I've had this irrational fear that I'm some Jonah to storms. When I was running in the weather last night, I felt like lightning bait.

Ugh, I should go back to talking about my cake, which is going to be sublime, or any other thing. I should get up, and wash some clothes, and finish the dishes, and ice said cake.







*I fucking warned you.

**I was running in the thunderstorm, according to my meek animal brain is Big Noise Runaway Level Danger Threat 5.

***But what I will really want will be crepes.

****Anyone who has been on sidewalks with me knows how likely this is.