Obligatory, “this post is about my house, which is technically in my yard, so this technically counts for this category” disclaimer.
Also, this one will get sad, so fair warning,
I have three saint candles. None of them are real saints. None of them I bought for myself. All three were surprises in one way or another. They will always be nearby, where I will see them every single day.
One will make me tear up. For a while, at least.
Two I’ve had for quite some time. One for over a decade and one for just under.
Let me tell you about each of them.
Kurt
My first Saint Candle is Kurt Vonnegut. He was gifted to me by D, I believe. If not D alone, it was from some combination of the children. My memory is bad and I have definitely reccomennded more than one Kurt Vonnegut book to each of them.
He’s one of my faves.
That’s why I love this Saint Candle so much.
Every time I look at it I am reminded to think bigger. Think wider. And really question things.
I love recommending Vonnegut to folks who typically aren’t readers. The language is simple and straightforward, and most importantly, it is fun. Sometimes, there are even illustrations!
Because of Vonnegut, I can spot an asshole at ten paces, both by vibes and visually.
Pee-Wee
Pee Wee showed up on my doorstep one day in a paper bag. My friends, the Peaces, had warned me a surprise would be arriving, so I wasn’t, like, shocked and taken aback by mystery or anything.
I was delighted when I first laid my eyes on it.
See, Pee-Wee Herman holds a very special place in my heart.
Not only was I obsessed with Pee-Wee’s Playhouse and Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure and all the rest of it when I was a wee Jacki, but once I got older and learned more about his court case, he kind of became a bigger part of my life.
First off, anyone who is unapologetically unafraid to be themselves gets an A+ in my book. From his outward appearance to his bursting-at-the-seams personality, Pee-Wee is this in spades.
Then, one year, Mickey and I formed this theory that there is a world before and after “The Incident.”
“The Incident” took place in Sarasota, Florida, in 1991.
Yeah, it was the time Paul Ruebens (the creator and inhabitor of Pee-Wee) got arrested for indecent exposure in an adult theater. Before The Incident, the world was simpler. It was mostly pre-Internet; there were way more shared experiences, and everything felt a lot more hopeful.
He got arrested when he was getting ready to leave the theater. The police conducted an unexpected (obviously) raid and caught Ruebens and three other folks. This was his third arrest in the county. The first was for loitering and prowling near an adult theater. (Charges were later dropped.)
The second was for marijuana possession. He got two years probation, and the adjudication was eventually withheld.
For the indecent exposure arrest. Ruebens pleaded no contest and received 70 hours of community service.
He was arrested again in 2002 in relation to the pornography case against Jeffrey Jones. They found a few questionable items in Ruebens’ massive collection of kitsch and memorabilia, which he often purchased in lots.
He pleaded not guilty, and the charges were dropped.
But I’ve been keeping an eye on the world pre-incident and post-incident for quite some time now. And I’ve been loud about it to the right people.
The Peace’s heard me.
When the candle arrived, it delighted me, just like my previous Saint candle.
Every time I look at it, I’m reminded that there are people who will accept you as you are, even when you’re being yourself as hard as you possibly can.
George
Now, King George is probably not recognizable to most of you.
Two years ago, I would have had no idea who he was, either.
Enter my friend Molls. She’s the one that introduced me to the best Survivor player of all time ever.
And Australian Survivor, in general. Before we get into that, though, let me tell you about Molls.
I’ve known her for over 25 years. I met her online, in the same place where I met many of my friends, including Mickey (the fella I love with) and the Peaces, who gifted me the previously mentioned Pee-Wee candle.
When I first “met” her, it was online only. She felt like a celebrity to me. She was president of the Monster Militia (a friend group based around a local radio show), and we all “hung out” on a web board. Almost all of my longest friends have come from this group of people.
In fact, when I first met Molls, she was dating Mickey—yes, the same Mickey I have been loving (and living with) for over a decade now.
During our first one-on-one interaction on the board, I was slightly tipsy and randomly messaged her. She didn’t reply but made a post.
”the new girl is drunk and messaging me.”
Don’t worry; our interactions eventually became much friendlier.
We ended up spending a lot of time together in a chat room. When I say a lot of time, I mean entire workdays and every single day of the week. For almost two decades, we were a staple of each other’s (and a small assorted crew of other misfits) daily lives.
She was also part of some of my favorite visits to Universal Studios. We used to schedule yearly GDOs (Girl’s Day Out), where we would gather some of our more thrill-seeking friends and spend some time in the park.
Molls had been working on-site for many years, so she introduced us to something new every visit. One time, it was a hidden area within the Jurassic Playground; another time, it was the best bloody mary in the entire park (Backwater Bar – ask for ‘em extra pickle-y); and my favorite time, it was the Curious George ball shootin’ room.
We’ve worn formal dresses to dive bars to sing karaoke on more than one occasion. Organized fancy Holiday parties for our friends with food and gifts. And was just, in general, a kick-ass human being.
Then Facebook happened, and we all scattered. Political wedges were driven, and the community feel was lost.
However, a small skeleton crew of chatters persisted. Me and Molls were two of them.
When I left the chat room, there were four of us left. I guess there are only two now.
Even though I stopped going to chat, Molls and I still talked almost every day.
She literally got me through the hellscape of last year. Watching Logan struggle with heart disease, major surgeries, and eventually a transplant from afar was a lot for my still-healing brain to deal with. Add that on top of recently moving to a new area where I barely know anyone and getting used to being a true freelance worker, and my brain was a whole mess of spaghetti.
Molls had recently watched Australian Survivor on her own and suggested it to me. I was dabbling in streaming on Twitch, mostly singing Rock Band at the top of my lungs late at night, so I suggested I watch live, and she hang in the chat so she could experience it again with me.
And, plus, I was lonely, y’all.
After a few days of watching an episode in the evenings when Mickey went to work, I was into the show enough to finish an episode and ask, “Do you want to do another one?” Molls said yes a lot of times.
Sometimes, she didn’t, and I said, “Okay, that’s fine! I understand.” There were no hurt feelings or quiet sadness. I think we both really worked through some safe feelings regarding setting boundaries last year.
After we finished the first season she suggested I watch (oddly, it’s the same season we are currently watching with Aubs right now: 10 – Heroes vs. Villains.), I made her watch the first season of The Mole.
When we were done being horrified at how rich and naughty Anderson Cooper is as the host of that show, we watched another season of Australian Survivor. And we went back and forth like that for a while.
Sometimes, we even coordinated our dinners last year so we ate the same thing at the same time. It was a lot of tomato sandwiches.
Eventually, we dwindled to a two-night-a-week schedule. And even more eventually, we invited other Survivor lovers to watch and fall in love with this clearly superior product. The first one was our friend Barb, who was there along with us in formal dresses at the dive bars and holiday parties and webboreds and chats for all those years
And when Molls died, we were on our second season of Aussie Survivor with my friend Aubrey, who had never met Molls before in her life.
Molls’ favorite castaway was the self-proclaimed King of Bankstown, George Mladenov. She did such a good job time and time again keeping her dang mouth shut so that someone new could watch his brilliant gameplay unfold.
Together, Molls and I watched Aubs take the same journey of hating George, liking him tentatively at first, then being miffed at him, then his gameplay makes him grow on you so much you can barely wait for the next episode, and then you are full on rooting on him. Ugh, it is such a fantastic ride.
She loved sharing this show with folks She never got tired of watching it. She understood it on a level that made it very fun to watch.
Molls was great, y’all. She loved puzzles and irreverant cross stitch and making science kits and cats with double letter names and beer and radio and her doggo Dallas and so much.
And she had really good taste in weird movies.
I miss her a lot.
The day I found out Molls passed away, Aubs kind of got an accidental front seat to me finding out about it. She gave me exactly what I needed, too – no saccharine sympathy, just straightforward, “holy shit, that sucks” vibes.
We watched our next episode of Aussie Survivor 6 days after that. It felt empty, but okay. I missed all the facts Molls could have shared if she were there.
Then, the following day, I came home from ceramics class to a mystery package. I opened it and it was a saint candle of King George.
It even featured George’s scary head scar!
A perfect reminder of my friend.
(Unrelated to Molls, but I really need some non-penis-holder candles in my stable. I’m thinking Regina Spektor and Janelle James, probably.
Hell, give me an Uncle Clifford, too.)
I did a movie cry when I opened the candle. Like, mid-unwrap just sank into the kitchen floor.
Then I had to suck it up, because I had a very important meeting to attend in about 5 minutes.
I’ve made this offer before and it still stands: If you would like an introduction to Australian Survivor, please send me a message. It’s a far superiour product to the current verion of US Survivor. I want to keep the love for this show alive for my friend Molls.
I know she’d love knowing more people are watching.
