Words can be tricky. Sometimes I feel them expertly packed inside of me. Perfectly stacked and sorted, accessible at any time and for any purpose. And then there are times when I feel as though I can grasp words as well as I can grasp a wisp of smoke or a sunbeam. Beautiful, but fleeting verbiage. These past few months, though, have had a different quality. They have seen a series of difficult mental health days. With those, my carefully stacked edifices of words collapse and leave behind them a ruin which I am ever more tired of rebuilding. I’ve felt lost in toppled towers of unfinished thoughts and weathered facades of fuzzy notions.
At best, my writing style, here at least, can be described as meandering so a sense of lost-ness does not necessarily lend itself to a coherent dialogue by any means…
Continue reading “In This Diary”
It seems that it’s around this time during the month that not only do I feel obligated to write again, but I feel the words bouncing and tearing around inside me looking to ricochet across a broader space than my mere insides can provide. They want the room to roam and be free, so here I am yet again.
That being said, I come to you today with a literary title rather than a musical one*: The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf by Gerald Morris.
*To be honest, and despite what it may seem with my running title theme, in the war for my affections, it’s often hard to tell if music or literature is winning. There are worse situations to be in. Continue reading “The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf”
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”
“Decide what to be and go be it…”
From the Desk of…
My mom has gifted me a desk. This simple sentence brings me more joy than I can possibly express. I have not had a real desk for the better part of a decade and even then it was that piece of my college furniture that served more as a resting place for books, sweatshirts, and sundry nonsense than it did as a useful writing surface. I already love this small wood structure an unreasonable amount and have great plans for its physical improvement (someone did this beautiful piece the disservice of “up-cycling” and painting its ornate solid oak surface a “shabby chic” distressed and dusty baby blue with seashell motif knobs – not exactly my style but there is a lot of scope for the imagination when it comes to putting it all to rights again). A writer needs a desk, and this one, with its current imperfections, is a reflection of the writer in question; a work in progress, as it were. Continue reading “Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise”
Being sick sucks y’all… Here I am saying that I need to stop laying on the couch feeling sorry for myself but this is literally what a stupid cold is forcing me to do. The weather needs to get itself together and stop being a moron so that some of us can actually breathe. Anyway, in an effort to overcome, as always, I am here with more topics for consideration since I literally can’t take the sullen introspection anymore.
Continue reading “Lost in My Mind”
It’s been a while since I posted. While life, uh, finds a way… Life also, uh, gets in the way (most of the time in the best possible way!). I’m not going to apologize for having one. Besides, this is my therapy and I’ll write if I want to (don’t take my words as too defiant, I missed being here)!
Continue reading “The Wrote and the Writ”
I want to write today. I want to speak my truth. I want to say what I am feeling and thinking. I want to be beautiful and wonderful and have the most intuitive and inspiring things to say. Things that will set the world on fire with a passion for living, loving, and thriving. I want to give to you all something to hold warm and close on this gray, and now seemingly prematurely dark, day because quite frankly I’m struggling to find the happy in today. Continue reading “Today is Lacking in Music…”
Words are everywhere. We use them for everything. Authors are lauded for their ability to manipulate them and people seek therapy when they aren’t able to find the right ones… Dave Barry (YAY for Haverford alumni), a favorite columnist of mine, wrote a piece once when his son was about to take the SATs. I actually have tried desperately to find the full article but I believe it was written in the pre-internet days and is therefore part of some back-country Google resource site that I just can’t find at the moment. Therefore, you will just have to trust me (if you can find it, please send it to me because, more than just for the sake of providing proof, I have been wanting to read it again. Regardless, it’s way too good for me to have just made it up).
Continue reading “Words Have Weight”
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):”