Last night I slept for shit and dreamed about a giant wooden statue with a skin condition. I’m still sorting it all out, but the whole thing contributed to my never quite waking up today. When I eventually stumbled into the kitchen, the first thing I noticed was that one of the cats had knocked a drinking glass off the counter. The glass was shattered all over the floor. I thought, First vomit, now this. Of course, neither one of the cats fessed up, so I ended up blaming myself, since I’m the one who left the glass on the counter in the first place. But the vomit is still on them.

At least they’re cute.

This afternoon I worked on a short bio then submitted an essay I wrote last year to a popular website, asking them to consider publishing it. My friend Marla sent me a link earlier this year that said the site was looking for essays on a variety of personal topics, so I finally decided to “give it a whirl,” as my therapist is fond of saying. My armpits were sweating the entire time.

Later I went through my Facebook friends list and began individually inviting everyone to like my Marcus Coker, Writer page. (Click here for a link to the page and click “like” if you want to.) This is something I’ve been meaning to do since starting the blog six months ago, but honestly haven’t felt confident enough to do. Writing is such a vulnerable thing to share in the first place, and most the time it feels like asking someone to like or share my work is an imposition. That being said, everyone on Facebook shares their pages, and people are constantly asking me to play Candy Crush, so I finally convinced myself it wasn’t a big deal. More than that, I’m slowly getting to the point where I believe in what I’m doing here. I don’t pretend it’s for everyone, but I do believe it’s valuable.

Therefore, I’m sending invites, trusting that people are adults and can say yes or no. (Either way, I’m okay.)

Whenever I get to the point that I’m willing to do something like this, I tend to be a bit anal about it, meaning I opened my list of almost 2,000 friends with the intent of inviting each of them. Well, I guess Facebook has a limit on how many requests you can send out at once, and I ended up being temporarily blocked from sending out invitations. Oh well. Still, I’ve been thrilled, as friends immediately responded positively and have continued to do so all evening. In less than twelve hours, I’ve doubled my number of likes. I’m not sure what that means in the grand scheme of things or that any amount is ever “enough,” but the response itself is enough and reminds me that we all have people willing to support us even if we don’t realize it.

Also, I’m reminded that sometimes you have to be willing to be vulnerable and ask for support before someone can give it to you.

This evening I had dinner with my friends Aaron and Kate, their son, Griffin, and our friend Austin. Aaron and Austin are the ones teaching the improv class I’m attending. Also, when Aaron and Kate got married several years ago, I performed the ceremony. Anyway, after eating, we all piled up in Aaron and Kate’s Jeep and took Griffin to the 130th Annual St. Boniface Lawn Social, which is a fundraiser for a local Catholic school. Considering that I’m a total stranger to two-year-old Griffin, I’d say it’s pretty good that he only cried once when I tried interacting with him. I mean, it took a solid two years for my own nephew to stop running away from me. Cats usually throw up or knock shit over.

What can I say? It’s a gift.

I really think the Catholics have fundraising figured out, since they sell beer at their events. The genius part is that rather than selling alcohol for cash, they sell it for tickets, so it feels as if you’re playing a game at Chuck-E-Cheese. Plus, I think we can all agree that anytime you can give up six tickets in exchange for getting turnt, everyone is a winner. (Turnt is the hip term for being highly excited, tipsy, or drunk, Mom.) Anyway, what’s even smarter than selling alcohol at a fundraiser is selling alcohol at a fundraiser then directing people to a silent auction. Suffice it to say, I think Aaron, Kate, Austin, and I are all hoping to NOT win all the items we bid on.

Here’s a picture of Kate and me with some handmade Ninja Turtle beanies. Aren’t they–well–cowabunga? We tried to get Aaron and Austin to try on the purple and red ones, but Aaron said he didn’t want to get in trouble and that people were staring at us. I said, “I don’t think you can sell adults ‘beergaritas’ and reasonably expect them to act responsibly in a room full of toys.”

After the lawn social we all went back to Aaron and Kate’s, and Aaron showed me his shoe collection. Since their wedding, I’ve known that Aaron collects shoes and has several hundred pairs. It’s sort of his thing, and I even wrote a poem about it for their wedding ceremony. (Click here to read “I Have 300 Pairs of Shoes.”) Anyway, seeing the shoes in person was indescribable. I said, “Mariah Carey would be jealous.” There were boxes piled everywhere, and Aaron said he was pretty OCD and knew which shoes were in what box. Personally, I think Aaron should rent his shoes out, especially since our feet are the same size and I know he can’t wear every pair every day.

We spent the rest of the evening visiting, petting Aaron and Kate’s three dogs, and watching Griffin dance to his favorite song, Good Morning, Baltimore. Currently, it’s three in the morning, and I’m wrung out and don’t know how parents do it. That being said, tonight was one of the best evenings I’ve had in a long time, a chance to get away from the cats and this laptop, reconnect with friends, and simply live, not just online but in person. Really, what more could one ask for?

A few pairs of shoes, maybe.

[Lastly, Aaron’s birthday is tomorrow, so Happy Birthday, Aaron. You’re truly one of the most talented, creative, and fun people I know. I wish you all the best and loved kicking off your day with you and your family.]