THE DAILY MOSIFER.
Or, a daily post of that which makes me tingle, sing off-key in the shower, and otherwise excited about a life that occasionally gets lost in the mess it makes of itself. Not that I'm bitching, of course. And so it goes:
My friend Sam recently posted this photo of her embarking on her first flying lesson. Someday I'll get over the fact that she didn't tell me she was doing it ahead of time and I had to find out via Faceplant after the fact -- YES SAM I'M TALKING TO YOU -- but for right now I'd just like to share with you how incredibly amazing it reminds me that she is.
I don't know how to describe to you the love I have for this woman. If I were a mother, she would be my pride and joy. If I were a blanket, she would be the sheets. If we were lesbians, we would make the shit out of that bed together. She has seen me through so much, and I hazard to guess I have done the same on occasion. Whenever we are together, it's like somebody threw a mirror in the room and I'm hanging out with myself (not that I'd really choose to hang out with myself, but you get the idea), we interact so seamlessly. When we have the great fortune of spending time in each other's homes, the magical doubling of both our wardrobes is enough to make me swoon. Not to mention that neither of us have a problem wearing things off the floor. In a nutshell, she is my heterosexual soul mate.
When I saw this, I thought "fuck you, Sam!" simply because she never fails to amaze me with her balls and infinite desire to claim the world. In fact, when I endeavored to make a ten-foot painting of her, from day one its tentative title was "The World." This is both because when I met her I had no idea what her ethnicity was -- girl could be part ANYTHING -- and her uncanny ability to be anything and everything all the time. She constantly amazes me with her passion for life and ability to make me jealous squeezing the shit out of it. Only she shares my knack for traveling alone to unseen cities for a weekend and spending far too much money at Target in California. Plus she's the only one apart from The Mother that would call me out on that jealousy (Sam I reiterate: fuck you!). Also I can say "fuck you" to her and she won't get mad. Or throw a reduced fat caramel iced coffee in my face (a drink I find appalling, but I'm still working on her pallet).
Sam, I am SO SO SO SO proud of you. You inspire me to grab life by the balls, time and time again. Only you could put up with me for 30+ hours in a car together as I make her tortuously listen to 50 Shades of Grey. Only you would let me use your entire sketchbook for kindling as we attempt to make an illegal fire on the outskirts of Yosemite National Park. Only you would necessitate "going in to town" to find a bathroom so that you may wash your face in the wilderness. And only you would let me make fun of you for it, over and over and over again. You are so special to me, and I can't wait for you to get your pilot's license so that you can fly me all over the place when someday we elope to a far-off land. Let's never stop spending too much money together, ok?