Hello Dolls!
Long time no see! All I have seen since March 15 is an Instacart receipt and the back of my boyfriend’s head. Twenty pounds of COVID weight can be attributed to an inordinate amount of weed, cooking and zero exercise aside from working out anger-ridden cabin fever in the bedroom. If I weren’t such a bitch, I would have gained 50 easily. The highlight of this week was having CVS at Instacart recommend that I purchase women’s ultra-flexible Depends adult diapers in ultra-absorbent and extra large. (WHO BLABBED?)
So, what’s new with you all? Me? Oh, nothing. Seriously. I have been to the corner store five times, one script read, a drag show and a hospital visitation since last winter. The rest of my time has been occupied by eating, sexing and screaming at YouTube videos featuring our orange goblin king and Meghan McCain’s entitlement.
I’ve noticed that “60 Minutes” is finally being discussed by people who don’t require affordable diabetes testing supplies and catheters that don’t scrape while awaiting a fresh episode of “Murder She Wrote” or “Matlock” that’ll never come. Leslie Stall had the commander-in-chief running with his tail between his legs, and Borat had Rudy Goonie-ani caught with his pants up but hands down them.
If this is a generational version of “When Worlds Collide,” can you only imagine what Thanksgiving dinner is going to look like? Drunk Uncle Charlie ranting about socialism as granddaughter Caitlyn yells about how her parents asked if they should stop by Popeye’s because she’s bringing her new boyfriend home from Atlanta.
And what about Christmas? Is the war on it over now that Starbucks is at half capacity and everybody’s just gotten used to a cup of Folgers? Is it still politically correct to send a homosexual a fruit cake? Now that every man, woman and child in America owns a military assault rifle, is it even safe for Santa Claus to be breaking into everybody’s houses, or will Trump ban him from entering the country?
Now that everybody has spent the end of winter, all of spring and summer, and part of fall either working from home or selling pencils at the park, my particular workspace has been altered drastically. I’ve performed in bathhouses that felt safer than gay bars in July this year. And a virtual drag show is a hell of a lot easier than having to waddle around in hip pads and heels that shrink with each year with my increasing age, but I sure do miss the joy that comes with the sound of laughter from a room. (I’m talking about actual people, and not just the ghosts of people who have been murdered at the Parliament House.)
Still, there’s so much to be excited about. Kirstie Alley is more bat shit than ever, so there’s THAT to look forward to. The upcoming election is going to be so exciting no matter who wins thanks to the second Civil War. (Because you don’t get to insist that everybody has a gun and then bitch when people of color can shoot back during a revolution.)
But let’s be serious here for a second: Things are about to get real weird. Stock your larders, pantries and cabinets. Find someone you love, hold tight and wait for daylight. All we really have at this insane period of chaotic American history is each other. Call your friends. Send silly notes. Do that whole virtual wedding or birthday, but pay attention…
…To my name-dropping! Lady Bunny is a personal friend, and anybody that knows her knows that she’s never forgotten how much more personal a phone call is over a text. It matters more than you might think in this techno age. If you still have parents and siblings, reach out and say hello at the least.
Log into YouTube and find a yoga or exercise video for a workout that requires more than your wrist before you go blind from it. If you are sharing a home with someone you’ve been trapped in with for months like some sort of hostage film, roll over and say, “I love you” after you find out what his name is.
Drink more water, and for God’s sakes, read a book! (I’m sorry, I’ve gotten ahead of myself. A book is that thing with pages with all of the pictures that you set your drink down on over at the coffee table.)
It’s clear we are in this mess for a few more months at LEAST, so please be careful. Take care of yourself and those around you. Eat smart, cut the booze back and now is precisely when you should be trying out funky new stuff with your hair. Invest in some great pajamas. Try baking. Meditate. Try new positions. Explore lubricants. Have fun. Do whatever you have to do to find some mental wellness.
This crap ain’t forever. We WILL get through it and on the other side it will be better than before.
Amen,
The Divine Grace
