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

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Confined Spaces

So did you know that cats can have sibling rivalry? Well they can. My brother and I have sibling rivalry. It used to be pretty bad. We're better friends now. But we still fight for our parents' affection. And I wanted to be like my brother's best friend forever and he was like "ew nerd sister get away from me you are annoying". I think that's just how it goes. Anyway. George and Henry were fighting like cats and dogs just now but they're just cats. So they were fighting like cats with sibling rivalry.

Man am I ever happy that bath weather is back. Do you know how awesome that is? It forces me to step away from my phone and my computer and outside life for like an hour. Yeah, I have my toonz. And George and Henry (they like to keep me company, is that weird?). And I sing. Which I'm pretty sure my neighbors can hear and so they turn up their teevee or something. If they have a problem with it, I will be more than happy (no I won't) to tone it down a little bit. So now I am squeaky clean and smell like vanilla and lavender, which is supposed to lull me to sleep. Fat chance.

I would say "speaking of fat" and then go into some long diatribe to me from me about how fucking fat I am but that is stupid and annoying. Whatever. I'm happy. And healthy. And am still working out like it's my job or whatever. You don't see that on the teevee so much, do you? Someone who gains weight and becomes healthy is now happy? People have to lose weight to be happy on the television.

It rots the brain.

Speaking of food....there is a delicious crepe with my name on it waiting just for me.

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Sunday, September 18, 2011

Music in The Tub

So. Did I ever mention the best part of my teeeeeeny tiiiiiiiiiny leeeeeddle apartment? No? There is a light over the bathtub. Like, a separate light that is not with the regular light. So I can turn off all the lights in my apartment other than the one in the bathtub and it becomes so dark except for my little light and kind of quieter. I know that electricity doesn't make any sound but it makes me feel more buzzy.

Anyway. Tonight I got home from the grocery and was feeling a little bit of the restless what to dos. And since it's getting chilly out again I thought "time for a tub!". So that's what I did. For like a whole hour. Just sitting. Doing sudoku puzzles. And singing my little heart out.

Want to know what I sang? (this is so embarrassing) Air & Ani Difranco & The Cowboy Junkies & The Cranberries & Dar Williams & Liz Phair & Llasa de la Sela & Lou Barlow & Poi Dog Pondering & Ricky Lee Jones & Sarah Harmer & Sera Cahoone & Sharon Van Etten & The Talking Heads. If I knew how to do it, I would post that mix for you on the webs like Stephen does but I don't. So you'll have to figure out your own bathing mix. Maybe yours won't be so lady mellow. All the songs rule. But it was certainly slanted more toward the Lifetime Television for Women Singer Songwriter side of being.

And it was truly just what I needed. For like 5 minutes before my bath I was starting to feel sorry for myself because sometimes I do that. You know? Like "oooooooo poor single me with my kick ass life". And for like a millisecond that whole find yourself completed through someone else creeps in and j lo rom coms win. But then I sing for a while in my tub or go for my long walks around Brookline or sit in my tire swing and write and I remember that I am exactly where I need to be right now. Whatever will happen will happen.

So I finished one of the supermegahard sudokus and felt proud of myself and was sing sing singing along to "Explain it to Me" and swishing around in the water with my hands because the bath bomb that I used has sparkles in it and is really fun to splash around. And felt so happy.

It's about time for the seasons to change. This was a great summer but better to move on before it gets stale. I like to do that, you know. Hold on to something, squeeze the life out of it. Until it's ruined. And I'm left with a memory of what it was but hadn't been for a long time. Or I've done that before. Probably we all have. That isn't an allusion to me jumping ship and getting out of dodge, switching everything up. Or being like "it's been real VIVA ESPANA!!!" because thankfully I know now that will never solve any of my problems. Eat Pray Love is bullshit, by the way. Just in case you were wondering.

Speaking of that woman, Jaimie was telling me the other week that I should read her (EPY author)'s book about marriage. And while maybe some day I will, right now I'm not really signing up for any of that. While I'm comfortable with myself and others' relationships, I don't feel any need to research something that doesn't really affect me at all at this point in my life and no matter how much I try or don't makes you feel at least a little bit inadequate as a human being. Part of that, also, is that regardless of my choices, I do not feel the need to justify them one way or another to anyone. Because for the most part, I kind of don't give a shit.

For a long time I was anti a whole lot of things. Because that's what you do in youth. You're anti establishment. Or anti religion. Or anti marriage. Or anti placing strict gender roles on children. Okay, so the anti-religion one kind of stuck. BUT. They've all mellowed out considerably. And the truth of the matter is that for the most part that whole "don't give a shit" thing came into play.

You know, I don't go hang out in bars any more or go on pub crawls or even hang out with my friends when they're getting superwasted because that's not my lifestyle any longer. It, many times, makes me feel uncomfortable. Not that I all of a sudden feel uncomfortable in those situations but I used to just get black out so that I could handle being social. No more black outs means complete awareness of how much you really didn't want to be there to begin with and probably should leave.

Lately, that's how I've reacted to dating and the questions and certain people even. Just kind of stay out of it because I'm sick of answering questions. And I know people are trying to be encouraging and help. Or lending their sage advice. But how do you take advice seriously from a woman who you want to sit down and say "honey, your husband is gay so maybe some of the plans you're making aren't such a great idea". But you don't because it's not your relationship and maybe he's not. (he is)

But I digress...with the seasons changing and autumn springing into action it only feels natural to be settling down. School's back in session. Everything is coming up pumpkin-flavored out here on the East Coast. And I've been here before last year. I've grooved through this season without self destructing. And I know there's a nice path ahead of me. Sometimes I still get pretty down on myself about not nabbing myself some baggillionaire who wants to put babies in me. But like a very good friend of mine said last time I was visiting NYC, "you know, all these relationships with the one or whatever are just a distraction from the truth that we're really all alone in this world".

We certainly can share what we choose with others but in the end, she is right. And that's okay. Because even if you don't find your own little distraction, you can buy one fuck of a lot of bath bombs.

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Wednesday, September 14, 2011


The crickets sing me to sleep while a lay on my couch and read. Sometimes I can't believe how simply charming my life is and feel overwhelmed with gratitude.

It sure is nice.

Saturday, September 03, 2011

When I Grow Up....

....I want to be Helen Mirren. Is that too much to ask?

Didn't think so.

Also. This is the last weekend before classes start. So I'm celebrating in a typical fashion. By doing a bunch of writing on a tire swing in a park while the crickets chirp. And hanging out with friends laughing. And making as few plans as possible.

A more important issue, though, might be contemplating why I'm watching Sweet Home Alabama. (and actually enjoying it)

Someone needs a date. Bad. To remind me how wonderful I have it.

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