[“I Ain’t Done” – Louis Barabbas & The Bedlam Six]
*I should have posted this earlier, but since this is my birth-month I hope you kind people will allow me a pass. It’s been a busy week in the most spectacular way possible.
Ladies and gents, I am now 28 years old. As of Monday, 3/19/18, I have entered my 29th year of life. My dudes, I am getting old. But, as they say, age is just a number right? Just an arbitrary counting system to assign a numerical value and therefore more coherent concept to the passage of time and, outside of the body’s obvious physical trek, upon each human’s progress through existence. “Growing old is mandatory and growing up is optional” as they say but there has to be some sort of comfortable balance I can reach, right? Somewhere between young/feckless and old/immovable.
Continue reading “I Ain’t Done (Being Young)*”
Can we talk for a second about the spectacular power of Aretha Franklin and Annie Lennox on one stage? Chills.
My darling dears, I wish you the happiest and most empowering International Women’s Day you can imagine. I’d also call out that International Men’s Day is November 19, mark your calendars for that as well.
Anyway, I am here today to discuss adulting and feminism. Buckle up and enjoy. At the ripe old age of 28 I have decided that I need to be better informed so, during the 2+ hour commute I have every day I have been listening to NPR in an active attempt to be an adult and understand some of the acronyms bandied about on the regular, not to mention be in the ever more depressed “know” about the latest global strife (seriously, can’t we just get along?). These listening sessions have run the gambit from inspiring irrational anger to thoughtful introspection and everywhere in between.
A hot topic of late, outside of gun rights and steel tariffs? Women (yass queen). Continue reading “Sisters are Doing it for Themselves”
I feel as though I can be comfortable with the expectations I have set for myself this year. Last year didn’t kill me, so if that is my base line, I at least know I can survive this one given nothing actually, physically, disastrous happens (I am currently knocking on every form of wood I can reach). I have said the purpose of life is to survive it, but that was admittedly during one of my darker moments. Right now, I can see with the foggy realization, the general though occasionally begrudging acceptance that despite the difficulty, the purpose of life is to live it—with some damn VIGOR where possible.
The tragedies of last year are of the past, I am clinging to them as a bad dream, lest I forget all together, but I now intend to live with some kind of intention after a really rough six months (at least, you know, until all the enthusiasm wears off and everyone leaves the gym again—kidding, mostly). It was all a bad dream (sorry for bastardizing the words, Biggie), it’s now time to wake up.
Continue reading “All Will Be Well”
Ruminations as I sit and watch Clue, one of the best movies in the entire world, after having passed out candy to the neighborhood kids. This movie is perfect for Halloween celebrations and an ideal complement to The Addams Family, which I watched earlier this week. Now I just need to watch Young Frankenstein and I am set!
Tonight, I am Louise Belcher. Continue reading “I Put a Spell on You”
[Theme song for this post: “You Raise Me Up” – Josh Groban]
“Here’s to strong women. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.”
I’d like to dedicate this to my Grammy, and to my mom… Two of the many women who have made my world vibrant. My life would be lacking if it weren’t for the vital truths they have instilled in me and the wonderful memories they have given me.
Last week, well, it just wasn’t great… My grandmother fell and broke her hip (after fracturing her spine in December), my dad was in the second of two car accidents for the month (he is fine, and he wasn’t at fault—either time—but still), and finally, my wallet was stolen out of my office on Friday. FROM MY OFFICE of all places, not even while I was out and about doing something FUN. So, while intermittently texting my mom funny yet encouraging cat gifs and videos of laughing babies, to get her through nights spent in the hospital with my grandmother, I openly reflected with her that it would be awesome if the universe would do our family a solid and cut us some slack for about two seconds. Ah, but I dream. As one of my colleagues noted today, I am clearly winning the year 2017. Continue reading “You Raise Me Up”
The following is dedicated to the people in my life who have made life worth living. Yes, always, but most importantly recently.
Something I have discovered recently is that I have one of the most valuable and enviable things a human can possess – true friends – people who are worth celebrating and who celebrate me in return.
Continue reading “Hold on to People Worth Celebrating”
I thought, when posting recently about the birth of this writing outlet, on my personal Facebook page, that it would maybe garner some small interest from those who have been emotionally invested in the situation following “The Day”… No offense to any of you, but I never expected the outpouring of love and support I have received across platforms. I know all of you are wonderful and supportive people, but what’s one more sob story in a world experiencing so many right now? I am overwhelmed and cannot thank you enough for your compassion. Each kind word has greatly helped silence the little destructive bastards who have taken up residence in my chest (and brain) and I am eternally grateful to call you friends (yes, even the family members are friends, it’s an important distinction).
Continue reading “Thank You All…”
So… the first thing I have had to address in using my personal stitch cutter to delicately separate my life from the one I had aligned myself with over the past decade is establishing the things over which I have a full hold and vested interest, and which ones I need to either dismiss or reclaim based on the one-third of my life which is now, for lack of a better term, of the very aggressively and decided past. For example, I want to reclaim Iceland, the place of our honeymoon, because it was actually a transformative experience for me personally. It was the first time, in years, that I felt like a normal person because I had finally taken control of my mental health and decided to begin a regime of medication. So, Iceland was a world and experience lived in color again… a world which, despite my best efforts previously, had finally regained some scope and depth, one in which I could actually feel hope and happiness rather than trying to make myself rationally reach those outcomes through aggressive mental calisthenics. I associate this amazing change with one of the most important events a couple can experience, a celebration of “the happiest day” a couple will plan and execute. I assume you see the conundrum? Yes, I did something for the betterment of my relationship (not being depressed as all hell) but it was also for me that I made that change. That is how I now need to approach every thing that has become an aspect of my life because of the influence of that *other* person I, apparently mistakenly, chose to call my love.
Continue reading “Retaking my World”
I have of late, (but wherefore I know not) lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition; that this goodly frame the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o’er hanging firmament, this majestic roof, fretted with golden fire: why, it appears no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god, the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals. And yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor woman neither; though by your smiling you seem to say so.
– William Shakespeare (Hamlet: Act 2, Scene 2)
Insomnia has plagued me for the better part of two months now. It was something I struggled with before, but the day my life changed… that day definitely has been weighing on me… causing many a sleepless night and multiple instances of beautifully bruised and puffy eyes from lack of sleep and a maybe a few leaked tears. Hell, I am not too proud to admit that. Which is why I think it’s appropriate that I am keying this, my inaugural post, in the quiet time just before dawn. Even now, my lovable douche bag of a cat is fixing me with some serious side eye from his curled position at the foot of my bed because I have the audacity of interrupting his 18th hour of sleep for the day… though I guess we are technically in a new day so the tally has reset and I am ruining his stats. My bad, little dude (don’t worry, this post is about your namesake, so it’s still all about you).
But I digress…
Continue reading “Entering Act 2, Scene 2 (of Life):”