ardent bullshit comes down every faultline gushing heavily into jest kindly luscious melons nodding openly post quakes resting still to undermind various wonderous xylophones yawning zealously

Monday, August 08, 2016

What No One Tells You...

...or maybe I was just wasn't listening?

So I broke my fibula. Jogging on a trail up in The Berkshires, a rock, gravity, physics, biology, snap. It's just the little bottom part of it, or so says the x-ray. It hurt pretty bad when it happened. I'm hobbling around pretty well, though, at this point.  Only leaving my apartment a couple times per day. This is weird and I don't really like it. But there are no time machines so I better get used to the situation.  Which involves a lot of thinking.  About a lot of stuff.  Stuff it doesn't seem anyone told me about.  In Cog Psych last semester we learned about how little we remember correctly.  Which really just means that while I swear the following were never told to me, that is likely untrue.

1. The first week or so after breaking a bone is very tiring. I was exhausted all the time. Get up and do something, tired, nap, do something else, tired, nap, repeat. It is 4:38 pm right now and I have been up since 6:30 with no nap.  If I were a betting lady (which I am not but who knows what the future will bring) I would put money on my head hitting the pillow by 10 pm and me snoozing away the rest of the night.

2. Massage heals everything. I just got back from a massage (some of which consisted of saying "no please stay away from all of the boot"...the dude was cool with it) and I will say that my ankle feels awesome right now.  Increased circulation may be the key here.

3. There is no substitute for running in treatment for depression. People suggest other activities but they are not the same.  There is not the same release of endorphines or the incredible feeling of really sweating and trotting with a cadence and matching up your breath. But the more I accept, the more smoothly the healing process will go.

So off to rest I go.  Or rather, I'll just sit here for a while longer.  And think.

Monday, June 27, 2016

That Time

It's been hot, like legit hot, now for a few weeks. I like the heat. Today I prefer it to the cold, but the truth is that I will grow sick of it within the next couple months and I like the seasons.  And the change. Weather change is a change I can deal with. Other change? Not so much.

That is unless I feel like I am the one controlling the change but that is a whole other ball of psychoanalysis wax that, quite frankly, is BORING.

So it is hot out.  And now that the heat has settled for the next couple months, I better get used to being sticky and somewhat uncomfortable unless I am sitting in a pool.  Good thing the pool opens on Wednesday.

Summer also messes with my head a little in the reminiscence arena.  A few years back I was really low during the summer and it was miserable. The Ghost of Independence Day Past still comes back around, poking its little nose in to say "hey, remember That Time?"

Not really, to be honest.

Anyway, The Sads have lifted, thank god. Or for the most part anyway.  Last night I didn't sleep well. Fireworks at 2:30, sore throat at 3:45, waking up thinking about a relationship and the wheel of fortune starts spinning the future stories.  This morning they were back, though, The Sads. All up in my face like I had forgotten fear and anger and helplessness.  So I worked and ran and called Mandie and we talked on the phone for hours while I sat on my fire escape. And in the middle of the conversation we were laughing because nothing stays too sad or down when I'm around my people.  We also realized that we've been together for almost six years now, supporting one another, and just how incredible that is. How fortunate we are.

And I feel grounded enough to soak some beans and make some dinner and ease on into the night.

Sunday, June 05, 2016


Oof. This has been a rough past 10 days. The heaviest sads I have experienced in almost two years. Considering I so rarely experience the sads for more than an hour or so now it is so affecting when I do. Everything crashes down, fear sets in, of what I have no idea, losing something I think I want maybe.

Some of this is my mind and body urging, forcing, me to rest. I have been going too much, giving too much inefficiently. As I write, I am sitting in Brookline, which will always be home in a sense. This was the place of such soul growth, little seedlings of enlightenment, where my armor cracked enough to let the sun begin to and then pour in.

I have been away from that condition, instead closing myself up and working on the outside. And as a result, it is time again to do some inner adjusting.

So I sit in a darling bed and breakfast, listening to Ella Fitzgerald and a clock tic tock, typing up some of my own research, looking online for the best trails to hike in Vermont.  For the summer I plan to mostly spend time around Manhattan and New England. Ground and reseal the foundation of my life, which is so full. All the stuff will fall out, though, if these cracks turn into a fault.

And with that, I will return to the safety of my cozy room and snuggle under covers and know that at least for tonight I am complete.

Saturday, May 07, 2016

becoming established

You know that scene in The Jerk when he gets his name in the phone book and runs around all excited about it? I've actually started getting invited to things, like birthday parties, in NYC. And not from people who I knew before moving here. I feel like The Jerk with his phone book.

It's been a bit of a struggle being away from close friends, like physically. And something I complain about somewhat frequently. It's been a loneliness I hadn't felt in a long time, living down here the first couple/few months. Fun and carefree and all of that. But lonely. Little by little it's gotten better. Or less obvious feeling I was somewhat isolated. School and the garden and dance have kind of stacked a few here and there. Some have stuck, some just kind of slid off.

This feels nice. NYC is becoming home little by little. Next week starts finals, and then three months off of school. Just work and research. And Infinite Jest (take 2).

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

The Jungle was fun. There was a little frog in my bathroom, a coqui, that hopped around all over and made his little frog noises. I showered staring at the ocean (the showers were all outdoor). I rode a horse on the beach. And snorkeled with unreal looking fish and sea turtles. I drove a Jeep around, listening to pop and classical music. And ran miles down a pier, staring at the mountains on larger PR. And I ate quite a bit of very good food.

While there my boss forwarded me an article in The Chicago Tribune about the work we are doing and I felt a sense of pride that all of the hours and back and forth and everything is beginning to bud into real progress that we can share with the public.

The dissertation I am turning into a paper and my own MA thesis proposal got hammered out on the trip and shortly thereafter, as well. I also read Night of the Gun by David Carr and was haunted by my own past and appreciative of his honesty and gratitude.

Once I got back yoga training was completed. My stepfather was diagnosed with cancer. Completely treatable. The best of bad news but still bad news. And I visited a friend in a substance use rehab facility for Family Day, under the pretense of research. And in the afternoon, sitting, holding his hand, that it hit me that it wasn't for any research. I was there to support and because that is what I want to do for this person. And what my role is for many others. It is somewhat of a default (because I don't quite trust my own emotions and some of my reactions) to get heady, internalize, and come up with some super academic solution. That's okay. And useful. In some ways but maybe not so much in others.

This is challenging for me and always has been. Especially with family. Good thing I am getting a lot of practice. Sometimes I still just want to run away and hide under all of my books.

Thursday, March 17, 2016

That Last Push

Winter is awful. March is terrible. These are facts. A couple weeks ago I was cranky and annoyed and just run down. To be fair, the addition of yoga training on the weekends shrinks my free time down to almost nothing. But it is almost over. A couple more weekends and a couple more assignments to clean up and I am done.

For now.

To escape what I can only describe as blah I am headed back down to Puerto Rico for about a week to write papers on a beach and ride a horse. Earlier today I picked up The Night of the Gun and Wittgenstein's Mistress. A few months ago I said I would not buy any new books until I finished the ones I already have. I am a fucking liar.

These lies are so good, though. Because I have tricked myself into forgetting. (this is a thing, you know, I learned about it in cog psych like 2 weeks ago, you can teach someone how to forget something on purpose...I have taught myself how to forget to not buy more books on purpose)

So off I go to some place in the jungle all by myself to do who knows what but read and get tan. Earlier tonight I was talking with a friend and said "well maybe I will get lonely or bored". He laughed.

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Hot cereal

These days cream of wheat or oatmeal and reading is the name of the game. It's a nice game. A pretty quiet game. Other than when I leave my home, which is anything but quiet.

Yesterday I had coffee with my old friend, Geoffrey. He said he was happy to see that I hadn't drastically changed since moving to Manhattan. That happens to some people, I suppose. I do walk more quickly. And live quite efficiently in many regards. This regard does not carry over to when taken into context food and Barney's trips. My demons still live in pleasure centers.

So I was in Mexico City (DF) for a few days, walking around, looking at art. It is quite challenging getting around without internet in a country that (hesitantly at best) speaks to you in English. I feel so spoiled now by the google maps and instagrams, telling me where to go and what to eat. Also, photos of cats that are not mine.

DF was great. And somewhat reminiscent of Glasgow in that it felt like such a working city. Very sunny and airy. Jogs through the bosque conjured up some pretty strong feelings of the fact that it is a city built on top of a city full of a warring culture. Interesting. So I kept on jogging, and stopping to look at stuff and then jogging along.

Next month I am back in Puerto Rico because winter is terrible and I can count on seeing the sunshine minimally for the next couple months. How is this healthy for us? Shouldn't we just be sleeping the whole time? How did I ever live through all of winter without going somewhere sunny in the middle?

Which brings me back to the original thought of hot cereal and reading. And the nap I am about to take.