Surrender

So today I spent all day with my sister getting fucked up, doing tarot card readings, vacuuming, laughing ourselves into convulsions, and watching every episode of Community I had saved on the DVR, which by the way is the most brilliant show on tv right now, no arguments, no contest. Nothing is tighter than the writing on that show. Then we ate a lot of pizza, cleaned off my car, and went to the Robyn concert. I was a big Robyn hater, but this was her Christmas present, and it reminded me to trust my blood, because it was an amazing show, it was kick ass, it was everything a show should be. Surrender is the theme of tonight, surrender to your blood and your day and other people's tastes and plans and dancing. Nobody knows you better than family, at least in the ways that matter, which are the ways of having conversations and the ways of having reference and points of basis, and the ways of knowing what is good. And if there was any justice in the world, someone would have snapped photos of me at three points today - 1) sitting on the living room carpet, arguing why I was the Queen of Swords, while my cat sat there in the middle of the deck, because that is truly what I am, I am the owner of this ornery crazy cat - 2) vacuuming my hallway on hand and knee by hose attachment, in my peasant shift dress, with crazy hair - 3) picking my way back carefully through the snow walking down the middle of my street at 1am, in my completely sequined mirror dress and little red sweater, with little green clutch held firmly in hand, streetlight above. Amen to the images someone should have taken of us, on the days when it matters.
And Amen to hot chocolate at the end of it all. And Amen to my sister who is cooler than all you fuckers. Which is how it should be. The Callahan sisters are great at everything, except financial or emotional stability. But everything else? We are aces.

But now I miss my brother.