There is this new agey thing going around or that has been around that I am just hearing about. I have this ache in my back and a doctor in California told me after my bone density test that I have slight arthritis in my lower back, which she said is common for women of my age – I told this to my masseuse here in New Orleans when my back was getting into a horrific state and she said, “don’t claim it” – I was like, whoa, radical dude – I don’t have arthritis in my lower back but I do have fucking pain galore – so then I was talking to a friend who has reached menopause and she’s married to a spiritually new agey guy and when I said did you have hot flashes, she said, I might have but I don’t claim it that’s what my hubby told me to do.
So I was thinking about my lost luggage as I was staring into my closet last night trying to figure out what I wanted to wear to Swirl tonight and I was disgusted because my favorite dresses are lost in Heathrow or on some stranger’s back right now and I thought, woe woe woe is my clothes situation and then I thought to hell with that I am not claiming woe – maybe I traded my clothes in for five weeks away, for discovering a gem of a country called Croatia, for having had the time to get to know my sweetie better unencumbered by costume or custom, maybe given the opportunity I would take all those clothes and burn them on a pyre to have the same chance again.
So here’s what I claim – nothing bad – all good – and in the meantime, I’m headed out tonight with something in my closet that makes me feel all dolled up = but that doesn’t really matter as much as I’m off to meet my friends in my merry hood and I claim that I will pass a good time, yeah.