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

Saturday, August 26, 2017

Doing Nothing

Well. I quit my job. And got a different one. But still. Big time changes.

I should be going through emails right now and putting some finishing touches on work. But I really do not feel like it so I am just gonna watch some goofy sitcom and (then I just stopped, there, in the middle of writing)

And picked back up TWENTY whole days later.

Wanna know what I have done this summer? Effectively nothing. And will likely continue this until Monday morning. Clinic begins, classes start, TAing kicks in. Then there will be SO MUCH SCHEDULED TIME. Justification for just walking around and hanging out with Steve for a few days at a time, no real plans, nothing to really "do". What a whole new concept and plan of action.

Okay back to watching Rick & Morty, eating homemade ice cream, and setting no alarm.

Friday, July 28, 2017

Time Time Time What Has Become of Me

It's the last week of July. A year ago I broke my tiny fibula and this week alone ran 29 miles. The last year has brought a rollercoaster of emotion and change. It has been exhausting. Many ups and many downs. I'm back to about the weight I was before the break. That was a big deal, the weight gain.

I feel sometimes like all I do is complain on this silly blog. But today will be no different. I got the sads, man. Or the feelings, rather. I have like a million feelings right now. Like all over the place and all I really want to do is sit down and sleep. Maybe that is what I will do this weekend. Steve and I are going up to a wedding in upstate NY. His friends. So all I gotta do is just show up. Show up, be supportive, and just be. That is a big deal, just being.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

M (squared)

Sitting with a bit of nervous energy right now, kind of looking around, unable to really focus but not quite ready for bed. Who goes to sleep at 8 on a Tuesday night? I would wake up at like 4, what is there to do at 4 am? So give the stupid blog a little attention and make raviolis and watch Curb? Sure.

Last week I finished up another masters. Okay. It feel less of an accomplishment than a milestone along the way to a PhD. So I have a little pause this summer. Three months without classes and only a big paper to write and another paper to revise and submit. What the hell am I going to do? Well, work but what else.

Get tan. Swim many laps. Run many miles. Sit in the garden. Cook. Oh god I am so happy I will get to cook. Make some ice cream. Talk to the cats. Finally finish The Essays. Read that Beethoven biography. Clean out all of my closets. Sleep in. Take naps. Walk around aimlessly.

What am I NOT going to do? Hopefully break my leg. I definitely do not want another one of those.

And maybe I will even write more on this stupid blog. Speaking of blogs, Mandy was out last weekend. You know, the one from way back who had a great blog? Then we became best friends and just this last weekend got matching tattoos of peapods. It was a hoot. Purely magical day it was, that Sunday. Mandy met Steve and we ate burger brunch. Then we ran into the lead singer from The Make-Up walking through Soho. How fun after we had seen and talked with him after his show the night before? And then when we walked into Kings Avenue we saw the same Reflexology woman we met in Austin a couple weeks before. What are the odds? I couldn't figure them out even though I did try for a minute or two.

So it's 8:45 now. That is an okay time to go to bed, right? Or at least get ready?

Saturday, March 25, 2017

Cuba

Well. So later, once I essentially have an airing of grievances, I will write an update about thoughts and moments and life or whatever. But for now I am just going to complain about the worst place I have ever been. Remember that year I lived in Indiana? Worse.

Cuba.

Fuck that place.

Okay okay. Sure, I have been quite spoiled in most of my travels and daily life, in general. But when I travel, especially places that are "developing" or whatever PC term is used now, I really try to depend on local food, entertainment, etc. And that includes local expectations. All that considered, I was so disappointed and saddened by visiting Cuba and the misery that laid ahead.

The food was disgusting. Even the paladores (restaurants out of people's homes) were terrible. Only considered good when compared to the government run restaurants, which all have the same menu and most of the time only have a limited number of items on the menu. The government limits ingredients, everyone uses the same bread (that is just bizarre), everything is cooked in oil, there is no dairy, and a shocking lack of fruits and vegetables despite its tropical island deal. But the kicker...the food is really expensive. Like unacceptable expensive.

The beaches are dirty. Trash all over the streets in Havana carries over to trash all over the beaches near Havana. There are also sand fleas on the beaches. Currently I am covered in very itchy and disgusting bug bites, despite not once sitting in the sand.

As a training psychologist the experience was interesting in the sense that the entire island acts as abused children who have only experienced double bind communication. Things that are supposed to be open were closed. Menus that list items do not have them. Inexpensive items (ex: beach towels) are outrageously priced ($40/towel). And the most bizarre part is that I sincerely think that people have no idea that their food is terrible and that they are living in this soul-dampened paranoid state. Hell, I would sign up for a lobotomy if I had to hear Chan Chan and Bailando 50 times a day. Even many of the local music plays the same songs at different locations. We were unable to go dancing because the venue was closed for renovation when we got there. Without warning.

Which brings me to the last point. Catcalling. Off the hook. My friend, Hadley, is a tiny blonde, which certainly called more attention to us. But even when I was alone the comments were unacceptable. I felt very uncomfortable and moved into anger at some of the things yelled and the pressure exerted from the men there. So much so that I finally stopped going out at night because it was just risky. Remember, I picked up hitchhikers in Mexico with no worries or fears.

And now I am home. And grateful to be so. And never have to discuss this topic again.

Monday, February 20, 2017

More light

You know when you stay up late on Sunday night because you don't want the weekend to end? Despite the cold and overall disgusting winter weather, these past couple weeks have left me with this general upward trend feeling. I am still buried in work with no end in sight. And do not know where I will be living July 1. And have no idea how I will pull off this semester. But have this bizarre lightness. Maybe it was Texas Mandy's visit last weekend. Maybe it has been weekends of just locking myself in and working on fun work. Maybe it has been recent social plans that leave me with a feeling of more, rather than depleted, energy.

Who knows. But I will take it.

Monday, January 30, 2017

I know.

2017. Bloop. What a mess.

This evening I turn in my application to The New School.

Last week I got a rejection letter from Wayne State. Not that I was all amped to move to Detroit. But. That instills the fear. What if I don't get in anywhere? (answer: then you will not continue on for a PhD this year at any of the places applied) What will I do with my life? (answer: live and be awesome, move to Mexico, who fucking knows, doesn't matter) Not completely dissimilar to dating someone you don't really like and they end it before you. Relief that it is done but then my Type A ego kicks in like "wait YOOOUUUU didn't want MEEEEEE?"

Good grief.

The past couple/few days I have had some longing for Christmas break and driving around southern Mexico, windows down, big ol sunglasses on, singing loudly. It is cold. And mostly cloudy. And I keep making plans with people despite knowing that all of winter I don't want to leave my home. The cats are pleased with this. And I feel like I am really getting my money's worth of Hulu.

Sunday, December 04, 2016

C is for Cookie

There is about 3/4 of a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough sitting across from me right now, just waiting to be eaten. All ready to go, spoon in it and everything. I have been picking at it while I read and write and do all these glorious Sunday things that involve not leaving my apartment and talking to the cats all day, catching up on the past week's podcasts.

Yesterday afternoon I went to the local grocery market thing I visit for some afternoon snacks (stuff for a smoothie and other well-intended purchases) and noticed (because while I DID pick up stuff for a delightful kale treat I had run a 10k in the morning and went to rehearsal for a bit in the afternoon so I should probably eat more than just kale, right?) they were completely out of the frozen cookie dough I buy there and chunk off in little bits. Sometimes I cook it. Most of the time I just let the dough balls sit out on the counter for about 4 minutes. Just long enough to be a teensy squishy with solid chips.

Upon learning of frozen cookie dough absence, I immediately told Mitch that this was unacceptable and out of hunger and spite I was going home to make dough. He sent back words of encouragement about cookies tasting better with some anger or something. But when I got home I realized I had only one egg left. Well, one egg does not a batch of cookie dough make. You need two. Why do I only have ONE egg? What happened to the other eggs I hadn't eaten?

Then I remembered.

Last week I was up in Montreal, sitting by a pool and walking around the art museums and stomping through the snow behind the Mont Royal lookout and writing and reading and speaking what little French I know.

The drunken Irish housesitter ate them.

And a few hours later, after a Chinese bodywork session and some reading and writing, I went back to the store and purchased missing ingredients. And mac & cheese. So here I was, kind of skipping down Houston, groceries in hand, thinking "wow. wow wow wow wow wow". This is life right now. This is life on Manhattan. I do not know what I did to deserve it but I will take it and enjoy the shit out of it while it lasts.