No Foolin’!

April 1, 2009 at 12:30 pm (Clairissa, Waxing Nostalgic)

Happy April 1st everyone.

So, have I got something evil up my sleeve? Always! But not here, not right now. (I’m leaving the tall tales and cyber-pranking to Food Dude and a few others who don’t invoke as much suspicion as I do.) April Fools Day has become special, my own Thanksgiving or Christmas. Like staying sober on St Paddy’s Day, I fully intend to get through the day with no practical jokes. Amateur night…

Instead, I will mutter about things near and dear to me. You’re welcome to hang around…

I started this blog two years ago today, as an outlet for many things. Encouragement from friends, one in particular, has kept me enthused. I don’t write here as much as I used to, but I’m not sitting idly by. I blog, I Twit, I have a MySpace account to chase girls, but The Dingleberry Gazette is my baby. This is where the thoughts running through my head come to rest. It’s the diary I leave open for everyone to read.

I’ve noticed how much more vibrant I feel when I write in the morning. It gets my brain moving. (Along with the high-octane coffee.) I don’t bottle things up, I can release aggressions in a creative way. While it may be important to no one but me, I’m still glad I can do it. What do I write about? As some old guy once put it, much ado about nothing.

It has had its rewards. I’ve been recognized on the street. I’ve made contact with celebrities from the past. I’ve brought smiles to strangers by sharing memories that touched a nerve. Marlon Brando, the Sleep Country Mattress woman and topless haircuts are topics I’ve covered. That last one is a gold mine for bringing in new readers.

It’s also brought me closer to people. My adventures with Clairissa have been fun to write, more fun to experience. It’s gone from cool chick who cuts my hair to psychiatric advisor to lust object to best buddy to the one who would be “perfect, except for one little detail.” She just doesn’t do guys. Never. Not even a little bit.

And that’s okay. I’ve been shot down by queer women before. They call me Lesbro, you know…

I bring up Clairissa because we call April Fools Day “our anniversary.” She opened Hot Box Salon the same day I started writing here. Sadly, Hot Box closed last month, and I haven’t cut my hair since. I have a couple of oddball cowlicks, and my eyebrows are starting to resemble bug antennae, but I’m holding out for her return. There’s no way I’m ready to take on a new barber. It’s like the end of a perfect marriage: I wander lost, wishing it could just go back to the way it was.

Last night as I sat at work, I decided to compose a text message to send her once midnight past. Wait, what’s this, a message on my phone? It was from Clairissa! “Happy anniversary baby! A little early…” Of course, I fired back a suitably mushy retort. I’m a sentimental sucker. It made my night.

Southern California hasn’t been kind to Clairissa and Nemo so far. Shortly after arriving, their housing situation was pulled out from under them, so they’ve been living a vagabond lifestyle. They’re young, cute and tough; I’m not too worried. Besides, if she needs money, I could use a haircut. By May 1st, I’ll be looking like a rusty Michael Dukakis.

It’s nice to feel the love coming through the ether. Since she’s not a girl I can “touch” anyway, the long distance emotional love affair works. Much like when she was just across town, if I need a smile, or a shoulder to whine on, I whip out the magic communications device and send our ‘safe word’. We’ve got a one-word phrase that says it all, and I’m gonna send it to her once I’m done here.

As to the rest of you? It takes way more words than just one for you to read my thoughts, so I will keep typing. (But not today. Pesky job…) I thank you all for stopping by, please continue to do so.

How’s that song go? “You are the wind between my cheeks?” Something like that…

A happy April First, to Fools and Sensibles alike.

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