I make wishes all the time. They are usually related to ninjaina and wishing that everything about her was different or didn’t exist at all. But they are wishes, not spells or plans. Actually, I think I’m pretty good at making wishes. My mom calls it “putting things in my god jar.” That’s lowercase because I’m pretty sure my mom is still making up her mind about the “God/Him vs. God/It vs. God/Mother” thing, and so, until the debate is settled, god shall remain a simple noun.
My mom has definitely, in my lifetime, felt very strongly that god had a vagina. Actually, there was a period of my childhood where, when I would say “GAHHHHHHHD” (as tweensters have a habit of doing), she would say “GODDESS!” I told you she was a new-age hippie. Truth is, I think saying Goddess was foreign for her, too, and so the “Thank Goddess” of my tweenhood has, and in my opinion for the better, been shifted back to the more inconspicuous and midwestern “it’s about damn time!” Sometimes, when she’s REALLY miffed, she’ll even say “friggin.” Maybe this is all in my mind, but I feel as though my mom was much more comfortable saying “THANK FUCKING GODDESS” than just “thank Goddess,” but now that the Goddess has been phased out by the more nostalgic Judeo-Christian utterance, it’s all “g’all darn” and “dang”. I like it.
Anyway, some days, you just have to make wishes because a genie or a god or a miracle would be the only thing that could improve your day. Today, I asked for a hug. I haven’t gotten it yet from the person with whom I filed the request, but I definitely got a hug from my god jar. See, I was hanging out on my friend Karla’s blog, just reading about being vegan (CHEEZ FOR LYF 4 ME but Karla, I still love you a lot and I feel like I get where you’re coming from). I was thinking about leaving a comment on her blog, but then it got to the “please enter this super cryptic code so that we know you aren’t a spammer, you animal abuser” (get it??? spam??? ON A VEGAN SITE?!?! yikes. i think i still need that hug…) I bet you’ll never guess what my cryptic code word was. No seriously. Guess.
AMAZING, RIGHT?!?!?! Oh my gosh. It was like a hug from Krishna himself! I never did leave the comment because really, I had nothing to say. And honestly, what do you say when the crypto-matic trumps you???
In any case, I went down to the Ducks game this weekend with the dudes and got to bro the heck out with Julia Goolia. It was good. There was a kid that was KIND OF A BIG DEAL at the game because he had some kind of terminal disease and his Make-A-Wish wish was to COACH THE OREGON DUCKS FOOTBALL GAME. How frickin’ adorable is that??? Of COURSE, he got his wish. *doi* But then I was thinking, dude, I’m gonna die, too! And given how drunk I at least know my sister is, it could very well be TONIGHT!
The next day, I put Splenda in my coffee. I have heard – only from nurses, strangely enough – that Splenda will kill me. So I’m loafing around Goolia’s dad’s house with Toastie Toes on my feet, back, and hands (I was trying to thaw. NO BIG DEAL.) and I realize “HOLY SHET! Life is a terminal illness! And I’ve got life. BAD. I, too, would like to reap the benefits of the Make-A-Wish foundation because I am terminally ill with lifeluenza.”
Good thing for MAW, I already know what I want: to hang out with Alexander McQueen for as long as the MAW foundation/Mr. McQ will let me. Maybe a collection. Maybe a year. It’d better not just be, like, a day though. That would be lame. Maybe you don’t know this about me – and why should you; I don’t buy designer clothes and I basically flip off all high-end establishments whenever I pass them. But I seriously LOVE Alexander McQueen. In fact, I almost puked due to overwhelming excitement when I perused the McQueen shop in Vegas this summer. I would go back to Vegas just to stand in that store again. My love for McQueen is ridiculous.
For the record, if McQ wasn’t into my wish, 1) I would hate him and put “a bird shitting on McQ’s skull” in my god jar, and 2) Viktor & Rolf would be my back-up plan. Seriously, you guys… look at this dress!!! If I could do prom all over again (and if I had $209876109873460981), I would wear this. AH. MAIZE. NG.