We finished the documentary on Wham and I’m sad to report that George Michael is dead. In 2016! I was equally disappointed in Bohemian Rhapsody to learn that Freddy Mercury had died. In 1991! What I’m trying to say is I watch a movie, get so involved in the story, and feel the flitter of excitement about seeing what a character is up to now. Then either the movie tells me, or I look at Dave and he shakes his head and says, “Yes Jaclynn. They’re dead.”
It’s odd to say I’m 41 years old. When I sit down to write, part of me is still 16 in my bedroom, thinking about boys. I liked boys. A lot. In third grade, my boyfriend Trevor played wall ball, and I played horsies, but something happened in our game I needed help. A friend got my wall ball-playing boyfriend, and he marched across the schoolyard to help. It was magical.
We broke up, and if I’m remembering it right it’s because he didn’t sit next to me on the bus ride to The Seattle Aquarium. But I do remember holding hands with him while roller skating and the only part of my body that existed during that skate was my hand. And how sweaty it became.
A major step was taken on the guest bedroom remodel with the addition of floating shelves that I sanded and stained and that Dave hung. Next, I need to think about a sitting area because although the space is for guests, if I make a spot to take my book to, that’d be pretty dope.
T-minus 11 days until vacation starts! Time to start gathering houseplants and categorize them by their watering needs. For now, I’m chomping on Cheez-Its and staying up past my bedtime watching Queer Eye. I hope your day was dandy.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 