i’m sitting at possibly the slowest restaurant in oregon – i’m not going to name names but let’s just say that it’s in bandon and it has the words ‘pacific’ and ‘blue’ in the title. but…. and this is a big but…. i love it because the guy leaves me alone and i can sit here and write on their sidewalk area and nobody bothers me or makes me feel like i gotta go and eventually i will saunter in and ask for something to eat or drink but right now i am just left in peace and i love this hippie place for it.
preaching to the choir (which is myself) moment #45: is it all about getting what you want all of the time? nope. is it all about getting what you want some of the time? nope. is it about seeing what you have and accepting it unwittingly? nope. is it about making the most of what you have? kinda. is it about seeing something better and staying open to it? closer. is it about having a sense of humor no matter what happens because in a moment you could get hit by a bus? yes. is it about being totally selfish and not taking care of yourself because it’s all about living in the moment? nope. is it about having a long term plan some of the time but living in the moment most of the time? yes. the end.
i want to know the etymology of the term ‘BenGay.’
procrastination is the single greatest contributor to my creativity.
you know those male ballet dancers who stand there while the ballerina does all the pretty and graceful moves? that’s how i feel as a parent of teens. but come to think of it, that in a way is what all relationships are like. it’s just that when you get older, each person takes turn being either the holder-upper or the pirouetter. back and forth. but it’s all good. it’s just my turn to do what somebody else did for me once. the end.
brilliant idea #544353498573490: last night, going through the drive-thru at taco time, we came upon a vision of the future. one day there may no longer be fast food restaurants where you buy food that is then put in a bag and handed to you. maybe in the future, you’ll just drive up and there will be a steel tube that reaches out to your car window and you open your mouth and they just shoot the food paste into your mouth. more efficient, n’est-ce pas? less wrappers, less time, pre-masticated…
whenever life gets to be too much – too boring, too stale, too stressful, too stupid, too cheap, too expensive, too nonsensical, too logical, too blech, too bigahsldjgalk, too too – i look at my hands and think how lucky i am to have hands and then i start playing with my hands and i remember being a kid playing with my hands and how i’d construct little plays out of nowhere with my fingers. and then i’m back in the present again.
The reason why spotting a penny is lucky is bc it indicates that your mind is peaceful enough to see it.
Less drama offstage. More drama onstage. That is my current philosophy and I’m sticking to it.
Men need a fancy store to buy special underwear and it should be called “Victor’s Secret.”
i am determined to seek out magic wherever and whenever i can… and where there is no magic, i am walking away.
you know how they have those videos of people who take like the same one second shot of something for a year and then compile all the shots together? if i had balls (instead i have ovaries… which are really the same thing…just inside), i would take a photo of myself as soon as i wake up every morning and post it each day as my profile pic.
if you ever find yourself in middle school (or a similar social dynamic in your life), when someone calls you a dumbass, just call them a smartass to get them back. a perfect riposte!
Can u be alone without feeling lonely? Yes I can. More and more. And here’s how I do it. I walk. I notice the pavement under my feet. I hear the birds. I go a new direction. I think about my legs and how good they feel to move. I think about how it’s not winter anymore thank god. And I can be outside without dreading it. And I think about the interesting people in my life and I hear remnants of our conversations. And I realize that I used to do this as a kid. I didn’t need much to entertain myself. I can do that again.
I can’t handle it when strangers are nice. Well sure I can. It just always surprises me.
i’m extremely intolerant of judgmental people. hmmm. let me untangle that a moment…
i’m extremely intolerant of judgmental people. hmmm. let me untangle that a moment…
Just saw a woman wearing a button that read “Porn produces pollution.” Ummm. The world gets a little weirder every day.
My dog Gizmo puts his paw on my leg.
The air smells sweet again this morning.
I feel empty and yet complete. I see the bigger picture and I’m fine.
I realize that you need to listen to the whistlings of your soul and my whistling is singing a tune that says ‘Sit. Relax. Draw. Daydream. Do a little work now and then. Doing nothing sometimes is the best something.’
And when you’re ready to be your silly self, the person who can easily forget herself and get lost in the moment, the person who can laugh at herself and not lose herself, the person who loves to help people laugh at themselves, too, the person who doesn’t care if she does push-ups in the classroom as long as it gets people to loosen up, the person who doesn’t care if she dyes her hair black because at least it’s a fucking change, the person who takes risks, the person who has been through all kinds of shit and still lets go of the bad and lets in the good, the person who would rather sit down in a restaurant and watch people than watch TV, the person who thinks about ‘the end being nigh’ every day not because she’s morbid but because she wants to live life to the fullest Buddha way, the person who is going to keep writing about her life because she is still trying to accept self-love and she’s going to keep doing this until it doesn’t feel so awkward and weird… and when you’re ready to be that person, then be her.
no matter how up or down or around or sideways a day has been, i go outside and i smell the air and i realize there is something bigger and better than all of the petty little concerns that can take up too much space in one’s brain at times. i smell campfires and grass and leaves and moss and i feel the cool air on my nostrils and i realize i’m more alive out here than in a house and life is wild and when you connect with that then it doesn’t matter where you’re at. it doesn’t matter who you’re with. it doesn’t matter if you’re alone. you’re already a part of it all and that’s just fine and dandy. and the trick is to stay open no matter how much circumstances conspire to close you up. stay open. and free.
why do i write so much gobbledyguk about my past? because i’m a woman in a culture (in a world) that tends to want to define me before i have a chance to define myself. for all the good in religion (and there is some – for example, i learned about karma or ‘treat others the way you want to be treated’), i also absorbed that stupid notion that self love is a bad thing. so between culture trying to tell me who i am for years and a religion telling me that i have to put everyone else’s needs before my own all the time, i have a lot of self actualizing to do.
beautiful moment #1: driving down a road in sequim that i’ve never been down before and realizing that this place has nooks and crannies that still surprise me.
beautiful moment #2: realizing that my strategy of grading a small chunk a day (rather than waiting for it to pile up and then i start hating life) is paying off and actually do-able.
beautiful moment #3: the feeling of freedom is awe-inspiring, scary, and magical.
beautiful moment #4: slowing down is what reaps in the magic.
beautiful moment #5: getting reacquainted with my favorite pen.
beautiful moment #6: freedom means carving out your own destination/destiny.
beautiful moment #7: people will always buoy me up if i’m around them long enough.
I was reading about intense emotions and you can either express, suppress, or transform them. One way to transform them is to turn them into a metaphor. I think that’s why I came up with this metaphor the other day when I was really frustrated. Instead of relying on the ole humdrum Sisyphus myth of feeling like I was being “forced to push a boulder up a hill,” I realized I felt more like I was trying to lift an elephant with one finger which ends up sliding into the animal’s anus.
How did someone come up with the phrase…’Be the bigger person?’ Like, is it impossible for smaller people to be big- hearted, generous folk? i call that small-ism and i’m not going to stand for it. i’m going to sit down, in fact, and show my support for smallness.
Be yourself. If you’re changing yourself to suit someone else too much? You’ll know it. So don’t do it. Be yourself.
that’s it!!! i’m getting out of this house!!! no more no more no more no more looking at a screen. no more!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! at least for 10 minutes.
Sometimes you have to ham it up… in order to egg people on [cue audience groan].
my life consists of doing a lot of repetitive tasks differently more and more each time. not complaining. just observing.
Don’t normally like cloudy skies that are toooo cloudy but this one is special. It feels like a literal blanket that I’m playing hide and go seek under but it feels even more like when you’re swimming in a pool and you look up at the sky through the surface of the wavy water.
cheesy moment #478924578249857409: be a leader of positivity rather than a follower of negativity.
i cannot do it all. i can’t even do part of it. in fact, the only thing i can do really really well is WHINE!. yes i’d say that is one of my best skills. letting it out. yup, that’s what i do. wooohooooo i can do something!!!!!!
i like clothes that don’t make me think so hard when i put them on.
A day of meetings. Woooohoooooo. Ok now where did I put my positive spin on things soapbox? Darn. I used it as firewood.
The world would be such an easier place to live in if we all just said ‘sorry’ more often (including myself) and stopped pretending that we weren’t little shits to each other sometimes.
Sometimes a little space and a lot of coffee is all I need. Sometimes a lot of space and a little coffee. Sometimes it’s a lot of space and a lot of coffee but it’s never little space with little coffee.
Sometimes when I share a smile with a relative stranger like a cashier at a store, I get a lump in my throat. Not a sad lump. More of a ‘Wow we are all one despite how separate we all think we are’ kind of lump.
if i’m not kissing my cat’s stomach or wrassling with the dog on the living room carpet or dancing wildly in the kitchen or writing ridiculous nonsense on facebook, then something is wrong. so i am correcting that right now.
Bc the NY times says that it’s eye contact that promotes more sympathy and empathy between people, I’m just gonna put this right here.
I just mowed the lawn walking backwards. There is a reason for this. Although … It doesn’t really matter. The neighbors prob still think I’m crazy. Except maybe Faye?… 🙂
even though the world is imploding and population is skyrocketing and i’m barely doing anything to impact anybody with my little life in a little corner of the world, i need a moment of pointlessness bc it gets me through and here is my question: “when oreo makes doublestuff cookies, what happens to the other side of the cookie that doesn’t get used? it seems like a lonely life for that unsmeared cookie half.” and now back to death and destruction.
fat. very very very fat.
we love her for that. her fat.
she is soft and smells good, but mostly… it’s her fat.
soft and round, plumpy and yummy like fresh ground round.
willow oh willow.
how we love thee.
I’d rather hear about the zit on your nose than a nytimes magazine slick perfect life.
I need to get a tattoo on the palm of my hand so when I run into people I can wave and they can read my tattoo which will say: “Even though I may get your name wrong, I still care. I promise.”
I put on a bit too much patchouli today.
I realize this is a first world problem but I’m gonna say it anyway. Nothing against my friends who work at walmart but I’m convinced that Walmart hires mystery shoppers whose sole purpose in life is to fuck up whatever checkout lane you’re in so no matter how high falutin and lofty your goals are in refusing to use the self checkout, eventually you cave in and give up your prized place in line and accept the dehumanizing path that will eventually make all human cashier jobs extinct.
i think i could live on hummus and tomatoes. good tomatoes. not those crappy, mealy ones with no flavor. and i would build my little adobe or possibly tiny house on the hummus/tomato concoction. i might throw in a glutino cracker now and then for variety’s sake but that’s about it. cats and dogs would be essential. possibly a chicken or two but really i could just live on it and i wouldn’t even need internet or a smartphone. nope. just me and the hummus/tomato. i’d take baths in it, brush my teeth with it. wash the floor with it. i’d be very happy.
So I was throwing up last night… yup… gross… and I realized (number one) how much I hate throwing up, but (number two) how it is highly symbolic of my life at the moment. But first let me explain why I was throwing up.
I had had enough of never being able to eat gluten (I have Celiac disease). I was smelling this amazing fresh baguette that had a slightly tangy smell to it and I couldn’t stand it any longer. I cut off three pieces and sliced some butter to put on top and ravished them.
Then, a while later, I made this weird concoction we call ‘Gloop’ in my family. It’s basically yogurt with whipped cream with blueberries and chocolate chips. I ate a little too much of that and given that I seem to have developed a growing lactose intolerance, too, within a half hour I was bloated, distended, uncomfortable, angry, and – if I moved too suddenly – nauseous. I convinced myself that throwing up was the way out of this mess so I decided that moving around more and accepting the inevitability of throwing up was the best route. And it worked.
And when it was all spewed and done, I felt better and I was relieved knowing that I had passed that milestone of stupid choices. But I also was grateful that my body felt good again and it made me appreciate my body for when it does work well.
And still, I had to think about why. How did I get into this mess in the first place? By not listening to my body. By not doing what my body has been telling me all along. No gluten. No dairy. Deal with it. I hit a wall but didn’t want to acknowledge the wall.
But also, life is about making stupid decisions sometimes. Live a little.
So I don’t know. Three steps forward. Two steps back. One step forward. Five steps back. That’s how it feels.
And inevitably it comes to this. 10 o’clock at night. I’m tired and done for the day. All of the peppy zip and optimism is gone and I am left facing a feeling of emptiness. The emptiness you feel after a good deal of throwing up. Relief mixed with pain. Bile. Lack of direction. What do you do after you throw up? There’s not much you can do, except sit still. Or what I usually like to do. Write.
I write because I don’t like walls. I write because I don’t want to live in an empty bubble anymore. I don’t want to live in an empty stomach.
I don’t get why we all live in our little empty bubbles so much. Well I do. Phones. Computers. Screens. These bubbles make you feel full, too full for awhile. But eventually you have to purge.
I’ve experienced it firsthand myself. I’ve communicated with no one except computer screens for too many hours. I’ve limited my social time to those carefully constructed moments where I stand nothing to lose. And you get into this habit to the point where – when I am confronted with a human being whom I know – I don’t know what to say. I’m tongue tied. I get exasperated at the idea of being stuck in a long conversation and not having the finesse to get out. It’s not that I don’t like people. It’s just that – when I spend too much time conversing with them on machines (e.g. work email, personal email, facebook, texting) – I forget the nuances of how to maneuver my way through and around them in real life. And I get it. I think that’s why the world is becoming the way it is. It’s so easy and convenient. People there at your fingertips. Gone when you want them to go. Present if you need them. Delete-able if you don’t. But in real life, people don’t just disappear when you’re done with them. They’re still there. Conversations go on whether you have time for them or not. And you have to develop other skills like how to gracefully exit a conversation when you really don’t have time to sit down and listen while they show you their favorite song on YouTube (even though you really would stay if you had time but you only have 5 minutes to eat before you have to be at another meeting). In other words, you have to give up control. You may end up being late for that meeting – god forbid! – but at least you remained human and politely came to a close with that conversation, a short but sweet declaration of farewell.
What if we ended real, live conversations the way we ended digital ones? What if we just walked away abruptly without a ‘goodbye’ or a ‘see ya.’ Maybe it really will get to that point eventually. Maybe it will be ok to just turn your back on someone who is mid-sentence and wordlessly strut away. Maybe. Anything is possible.
But I’m still going to try to not do that. So… goodbye… for now. I don’t want to live in a bubble.
this is a rant and rave because too much stuff bottled up is fucking ridiculous. i’m fucking done with weekends (bear with me… it will get positive eventually). i mean, why is it that i sit here feeling duty bound about paying bills and cleaning the house. fuck it. fuck. it. fuck it. what did i do as a kid on the weekends? play. what does all work and no play make anyone? a dull idiot. i don’t want to be a dull idiot. i want to play. i don’t care if i’m an adult. i need to play, too, goddammit. and not just on a friday night with a glass of cheap wine in my hand and a loud great band playing. i need to play periodically more so throughout the day, throughout my life. it’s fucking ridiculous how serious life fucking gets. and all the pressure and all the bills and all the worry and all the nonsense never got anyone anywhere. i’m just going to pay everything with a credit card for the rest of my life and then take all my credit cards to the grave with me. ok, not very responsible i know but fucking fun to think about. ok, now, where is the positive part? hmmmmm positive…. i can feel it coming…. here it comes….. ummmm…… positive….. ummmm…. this. the realization that if there is anything i can do on this earth, if there is anything i am capable of, if there is any kind of gift that i have to offer anyone (including myself) it’s the permission to make an ass out of yourself sometimes. we all need to do it. more so rather than less so and then the world will be less pent up and fucking stressed out. so let it go. let some of that shit inside of you out and put it somewhere. it doesn’t matter where but put it somewhere or else it will slowly inevitably indubitably abominably vociferously stupefyingly scatalogically serendipitously swallow you up whole and spit you out. so spit it out before it spits you out. the end.🙃
I’m chugging along doing my thang, don’t have a single care
When what should I see in front of me but a negative Nancy stare
What should I do? what should I say?
But oh no ‘it’s comin my way!’
Here’s what I do, I hope you try it too
Fight ‘no’ with ‘yes’ and ‘wah’ with ‘you’re da best!’
Give ‘hugs’ to ‘thugs’ and ‘smiles’ for ‘piles of shit’ that piss on your parade.
Love love love love love all the hate away
Love love love love love all the hate away.
The 12 days of Emo Maturity:
On the first day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “It’s ok to agree to disagree.”
On the second day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Two heads don’t have to be one.” And “It’s ok to….”
On the third day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Three French kisses mean more than an orgasm,” “Two heads don’t…”
On the fourth day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Four minutes of a TimeOut can be healthy,” “Three French …”
On the fifth day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Five to One is the Magic Ratio of positive to negative that predicts divorce so let’s have more positive moments in our days,” “Four minutes of…”
On the sixth day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Six things I love about us, when he really wanted to list things he hated,” “Five to One is…”
On the seventh day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Seven year itch is not a myth so let’s postpone marriage til then,” “Six things I love…”
On the eighth day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Eight o’clock is bedtime because arguments tend to happen late at night when my patience runs dry,” “Seven year itch is…”
On the ninth day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Nine ways that I’m grateful for myself because unless you love yourself you can’t love other people,” “Eight o’clock is…”
On the tenth day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Ten caramels make me almost as happy as you,” “Nine ways that I’m grateful..”
On the eleventh day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Eleven years of feeling alone but being married is worse than eleven years of being single,” “Ten caramels make…”
On the twelfth day of EmoMaturity, my true love said to me ~ “Twelve minutes of walking in nature can cure anything, “Eleven years of….”…..and “It’s ok to agree to disagree.”