Now, readers here know I looooove the moon. Love, love, love it and often photograph it. And then bore the hell out of you with pictures. I hear you in my head groaning, "For God's sake, we get it, you like the moon. It's the same damn moon every month. Why for the love of all that is holy do you keep taking the same pictures?" Because I'm obligated to, of course. If I don't snap the moon, I go crazy lying in bed, picturing the moon in all its glory going unphotographed. I have to! Damn it, don't you understand? It's the MOON!
So, a few days ago, I got the moon before it was the SUPER FREAKING MOON.
on the 3rd.
On Friday, I scuttled outside, after my stupid moon website said it would be up, and nothing. We had cloud cover, so I went back in and waited, pacing, antsy, in need of my picture. Back out an hour later. Nothing. I paced some more. Back out. Absofreakingnothing. Went to bed. Tossed and turned, thinking of the moon.
Yesterday I arose determined (like what I did there? I arose--all wordy and shit) to get my moon. I waited impatiently all day. Pacing. Gnashing my teeth. Growling at pictures coming across my facebook feed from all over the freaking world with pictures of MY super moon. Mine, dammitalltohell. Mine! I waited. I kept checking my moon site. I paced. I muttered. I rose my fist to the heavens as storms raged around us (not over us, but around us to the south, to the east) and as cloud cover threatened to frak my super moon night up.
Out at 8:17 I went last night, one minute after the stupid website promised me my moon. Nothing. 8:30. Nothing. 9:00. Not a damn thing. See?
Not a damn thing except a whole sky of dark. No stars, no nothing.
I checked at 10:00 and 10:30 and then I cursed the heavens and went to bed where I dreamed I hugged my super moon tight, cooing to it, "Mine, mine, mine." At 5:30, I got up and went to the bathroom and peaked out my window and there was my supermoon, waiting for me.
Fuck you, I shouted at it, waving my fist at it. You're too damned late! I stomped back to bed and climbed in, turning my back to my super moon, who had stood me up one time too many. I don't need you, super moon, I thought. What good are you anyway. I have all my other moons.
See, here's one, you selfish bastard.
Oh hell yeah. You're jealous, now, aren't you, SuperMoon?
Yeah, baby. See, I don't need you, SuperMoon.
Uh-huh. Bet you'll show up, tonight, won't you? But you won't be so super any more, will you? I'll be waiting, seeing if you show up as promised at 9:27 tonight. A stalker like me can't be that easily dissuaded, after all.
Come back, SuperMoon, I'm sorry. I'll be nice. Pose for the camera, super moon, pose!
*The above post was written while sober. Shocking, I know.