July 2018

A Piece of Peace, July 1, 2018

Does anyone else sometimes find peace unsettling? Specifically, peace of mind? I always find myself wondering if it's real whenever I feel it. Which is an odd and depressing thing now that I think about it. Nevertheless, I have felt at peace these last few days — serene, content, light. It also makes me wonder if it is the result "raising my vibration" through mediation and practicing faith. It's actually almost as challenging to relax and enjoy the positive feelings as it is to work towards them when things are rough. Almost. 

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What Wakes Me Up at Night, July 2, 2018

I woke myself up laughing in my sleep last night. I have zero memory of what was so funny but I woke up smiling and chuckling several times. This was a dramatic improvement over the night before when I woke up several times in terror, dreaming about trains at night and stations in the woods and spirits in the shadows. I read once that when you have nightmares, it's generally caused by a full bladder, some sort of biological measure to avoid wetting the bed or something, but the night before I didn't have to pee at all so it made the scariness all the worse. Sometimes I wake myself up in mid-conversation with someone that starts in my dream and seamlessly transitions into reality but with no context or participant, just me blah blah blah-ing out loud to nothing and no one. I'm just saying, I have range.

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Not for Loners, July 3, 2018

As a kid I attended Montessori schools because my mother was a Montessori teacher and I'd get a free pass. That is, until the head of one of the schools informed her that I was not suited for the Montessori school system. Apparently I was a 'pestiferous' child and I didn't wish to participate in group activities, of which there were many. At the time, my mother told me that 'pestiferous' meant I was in my own world, what it really means is 'irritating, a pest'. Whatever, all the things were true. I didn't like group work then and I don't like it now. 

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Summertime is My time, July 4, 2018

This humid and heavy heat is disgusting. I feel slow, sticky, bolted to the earth. I can't tell if my bedroom AC isn't working right or my expectations are too high; the fans I direct at myself in other rooms seem to be lacking in effectiveness. My face skin is greasy and I am in a perpetual war with the breakouts on my nose where my glasses make contact. The smell of my own body sweat wakes me up in mid-rest. By the way I'm a summer baby, born deep into August.

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I am moist everywhere, July 5, 2018

Oh my God boob sweat. Waistband sweat, back of knee sweat, ass fold sweat, elbow sweat, blurgh! This feels beyond the scope of reasonable. Normally my biggest battle is chronic underarm sweat, which I recently learned, according to a very helpful commercial, is a medical condition that I can treat with expensive pharmaceuticals. What would any of us do without big pharma am I right? Ugh I'm kidding of course but this weather makes it difficult for me to adequately express sarcasm. It's just too much work right now.

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Blast From The Past, July 6, 2018

I woke up to not one but seven text messages from an ex and former fuck buddy. Granted, it's his style to say what he wants to say in a sequence of short messages instead of one long one but whatever. It certainly got me out of bed. Maybe my bald-headed sex dreams are about to come true after all. Fingers crossed.

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To Fuck him or not to fuck him, July 7, 2018

As of 2:45pm I have still not reached back out to the ex/former fuck buddy. I wasn't available yesterday and I know full well that I could text him now and be fucking within the next hour but something is holding me back. There's always a heaviness to revisiting a physical relationship with someone you've dated for any significant time and though we had successfully maintained a casual relationship since dating, there's always that risk of being sucked back into the vortex of emotion. Our fuck buddy arrangement was dissolved after he started drinking again; he is clean now thankfully, but he's still a guy that discovered a unique entry point into my head and heart and who knows how my defenses have held up after all this time. 

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A sunday Feast for One, July 8, 2018

The saga continues, no progress but some contact. Moving on! It's Sunday and as I've mentioned before, I have certain traditional feelings about how this particular day of the week should be spent. Resting for sure, but there's also the Italian tradition of the sauce — my family did not say 'gravy' and so I do not say gravy, it's fucking sauce — and I'm stoked to be making a simple one from scratch later today. Of course there will also be meatballs and pasta otherwise what is the point of the sauce? I've got veal, beef and pork all ready and waiting to be transformed into magic and transformed they shall be, I happen to be pretty handy with ground meats.

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The Need for a new Normal, July 9, 2018

This whole do I want it/don't I want it thing with the recently resurfaced ex is making me realize how poor my self image has been. Since shaving my head, I feel like I've disqualified myself in some way from the pool of eligible women, like I don't even "count" as part of the population anymore. Part of it is how I've been dressing; there's been weight gain and style struggles and these have morphed into a fuck-it attitude and not in a good way. Part of it is that I haven't had sex since I did it and no matter what I tell myself, or how much I enjoy my bald head, I'm convinced it will never happen again just because it hasn't happened yet. I keep trying to remind myself of how beautiful I find the other shaved women on the street to be, or how sexy someone like Amber Rose is; I analyze how she and other women on Instagram dress and accessorize their bald heads so that I may find myself somewhere within it all, but to no avail. Is it any wonder I want to screw the feelings away?

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Defiance and Revolution, July 10, 2018

Feeling out of my head again; lost and muddled. I get defiantly lazy in response. I become convinced it will never pass. It's all so familiar at this point yet each instance feels like a fresh hell that I'll never outlive. Three days this go around, three days of defeated self-pity and desire to sleep it all away, of feeling useless, talentless, purposeless. Recovery time is diminishing but I'm still vulnerable every single day. Victory only comes with action; the moment I'm able to leave the house again is a fucking revolution.

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Grand Central, Terminal, July 11, 2018

I have a friend who sees signs everywhere — numbers, birds, etc. — most people brush it off as kookiness and think nothing of it. I'm always comforted by his reports because it makes me feel validated in my own sign awareness. Last night I dreamt of walking through Grand Central only to discover it had been shut down. The entrances to the trains, the downstairs and other arms of the main terminal were walled up. The round desk and opal clock were completely removed, the floor so bare it was as if they had never been there at all. I muddled over what it meant while I made coffee this morning and it occurred to me that it could be symbolic of my job change. For the last 18 years I've worked just a few blocks away from Grand Central — seeing the whole thing closed up could be a sign that there's nothing in that world for me anymore, that I am in fact on the right path. Or not.

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I'm feeling good? July 12, 2018

Finishing things feels good. Doing the things on my boring to-do list that I thought I'd never get done feels good. Trying new things feels good too... So why am I so hooked on the opposites of all of these things which do not feel good? At least I'm doing some, perhaps all, of these good-feeling things today. The determination feels pretty good. 

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Doing the right thing, July 13, 2018

Sometimes I do everything wrong and it all works out and other times I do everything right and it all goes to shit. I'm hoping this stretch I'm in now is part of the former. Over the last few months I have made a number of questionable choices and somehow I'm still here and kicking. With the natural passing of time, my conscience has started to awaken from it's hibernation/survival mode and in turn I've been slowly making adjustments to correct the glut of missteps taken along the way. Of course doing the right thing is its own reward [right?] but I'm also selfishly hoping this reset will mitigate my imposter syndrome, the daily panic attacks and hours spent tossing and turning. 

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Smells like summer, July 14, 2018

One of the few bummers about summer is not being able to wear my clothes more than once. I get home from walking just a few blocks and I can already smell myself; my underarms and waistband damp with perspiration. This daily sweating into fresh new outfits has an unfortunate impact on my laundry cycle and I don't like it one bit. I love the sunshine and warmth but oh how I long for the days of sniff tests and multiple wears of a single item. Sigh, when will fall get here.

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techno reset, July 15, 2018

I am a househead and as such, dancing to techno isn't usually my thing. So many dramatic slow moments all building up to a crashing beat that's sometimes really danceable and other times not so much. But there are times when I physically need to hear and feel that crashing beat and it becomes worthwhile to suffer through the non-danceable parts. Sadly, no amount of soul-stirring house music can bust through my body and emotions quite like a dark heavy techno set on some sick speakers. Last night I got to satisfy that physical need, spending 4 hours in a dark crowded club being pounded by bass and beats, the wind from the subwoofers blowing over my skin. Today I feel reset and all the more ready for some house dancing so I can actually break a sweat while enjoying those beats.

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I don't have to live like that anymore, July 16, 2018

Six years ago today was my last, first day without a drink; it was a Monday. The Sunday before: woke up mid-afternoon with two different male friends sleeping in my living room, went to brunch at a neighborhood bar where I drank my weight in bloody marys and whiskey shots, ate one or two pot brownies gifted by the bartender, attempted and failed to score some blow because I was ready for a nap, gave up and took the nap, woke up at 11pm to a hero friend who managed to track down a small bag of coke for me. I proceeded to drink all of the leftover alcohol in my apartment in one continuous binge and spent the next few hours snorting the contents of that bag and attempting to feel drunk. My Sunday ended around 3am and I went to work a few hours later.

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Hey Did you know it's raining right now, July 17, 2018

As much as I hate hot and humid weather, there is something endlessly appealing about a rainstorm during the day. I love the way it gets dark while staying light, the sound of thunder, the comfort of watching it all from a dry place indoors. When I was a kid and living upstate, my favorite thing was that minute before a storm hits, when everything has a deep yellow glow, the air is charged but still, and you just feel it in your gut that all hell's about to break loose in the sky. Good times.

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Bagels and Brawny men ahead, July 18, 2018

Tomorrow I head upstate to spend a long weekend with my mom, attend the annual Deposit NY lumberjack festival AND celebrate my six-year sober anniversary. But before I can even get there I need to order, pick up, ziploc and transport at least three dozen monstrous, handmade 'everything' bagels which will then stink up my suitcase and belongings for the entirety of my trip. As a native New Yorker, my mother has never let go of her love for Ess-a-Bagel despite moving to the sticks, which means I bear the burden of her bagel addiction each time I visit. It's hard work being a good daughter, but I will be rewarded with meatballs so it's worth the effort. 

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Ziplocs really do work for everything, July 19, 2018

Did you know that there are giant ziplocs? Like can-fit-a-small-torso-inside big? This is my trick for transporting the stinkiest bagel known to man, the NYC "everything" bagel, in all it's onion and garlic glory. I'm about to head out to pick up three dozen which is the minimum requirement for entry into my mother's house. It is lucky for all of my fellow bus passengers that my suitcase will be below the bus.

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Cutting Tools For Mothers And Daughters, July 20, 2018

Well I'm upstate and already getting into it with my mom. After all these years, we are both still figuring out how to be alone with each other. We're about to get in a car together and drive off to the first logging event of the lumberjack festival, hopefully we can keep from fighting for the next few hours. Wish me luck!

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Logging and watching and moving, July 21, 2018

Day 2 of logging events and I am psyched! Yesterday I saw competitions I had never seen before and today's schedule is an entirely different series. Even better, I had a pretty decent time with my mother, we even shared sunscreen as we baked in the sun while sitting in the bleachers. It was all very moving.

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Patience and Gratitude, July 22, 2018

It's a bit of a dance spending time with my mother. Wishing and hoping things will be a certain way, talking myself down from the irrationality of faulting someone for a situation not being exactly what I wished and hoped. Having patience with the whole situation also means having patience with myself. It means taking the time to seek gratitude for what is, and pausing there instead of getting carried away with what could be.

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People-time is finally over, July 23, 2018

Well I failed miserably at the patience/gratitude thing yesterday. I spent more time imagining myself biting my own fist and repeating mantras than much else. At least I managed to hold my tongue for the most part, which is not to say my silent scowl was a good thing. This was the kind of weekend that really amps up the satisfaction of returning to a home shared only with cats. 

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When A stranger-acquaintance makes your day, July 24, 2018

I post on social media to promote most (but not all) of the pieces published here. It's all timed to alternate between the actual publish date and subscriber emails and the audiences for my profiles on Instagram and Facebook are hugely different from the mailing list. Well last night I discovered that a househead community person I am FB friends with, is following me on Instagram AND she fucking read the pegging piece AND commented on it via my feed! My mind is blown. Also, fun fact: we have never even met in real life. Also, I'm totally gonna track her down and introduce myself to say thank you. 

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Bodies In motion, July 25, 2018

I remind myself often of the notion, "if you want something done, ask a busy person" and for the most part it's true. Managing commitments, meeting deadlines, completing tasks — it is all so much easier when I've got more things to do than less. It forces me to come up with rigorously organized systems to keep track of every detail which in turn inspires me to cross things off one by one. I'm sure the secret is really just momentum, but such is true for so many things no?  

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Naive and Fearless, July 26, 2018

Do you ever think about doing something new, trying something crazy, just wholeheartedly following your gut? In the past month and a half I've gone from focusing solely on writing and developing this site, to taking steps towards creating my own publishing imprint, developing a book of a friend's artwork, and recording and learning how to produce a podcast. And why not? The benefit of doing something I've never done before is that I don't even know enough to be scared. Being both naive and fearless means I can affect real change and maybe even trailblaze something new.

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The conviction to trust my own gut, July 27, 2018

I'm not quite sure how it all looks to the outside observer, but I don't often feel like I have my shit together. I feel insecure and directionless and as if I don't have much to offer. To deal with this unfortunate state I've been meditating on finding direction, my purpose, but not feeling much of a change. I recently started focusing my intentions and daily meditations on being more confident instead of seeking guidance. Now, when I reflect on my day, I realize that I've spent my time naturally taking action and responding instinctively to daily events; I haven't spent hours being hyperaware of my feelings.  

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Corleone Wisdom, July 28, 2018

The Godfather movies brought us so many nuggets of wisdom but my favorite and most utilized is the "keep your friends close, but your enemies closer" notion. I'm a sometimes hyper-sensitive person and following this advice has been the most effective way of managing my feelings and insecurities about other people; I loosely define 'enemy' as someone that either irritates, intimidates or frightens me. Building a habit of going towards them instead of hiding from them, means I wind up being really productive and well-practiced at facing my fears. 

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A rumba of psyches, July 29, 2018

There is something both beautiful and torturous about unspoken thoughts and feelings. The quiet dance of minds bubbling with interior dilemmas and motivations, desires and fears. Beautiful for the potential, torturous for the outward ambiguity.   

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Attachment Of Things, July 30, 2018

It feels like my efforts at home purging and letting go has been going on for years. Even before reading that now infamous Marie Kondo book, I started periodically filtering my closet. Since leaving my job, this culling has only grown in scope and intensity — furniture, kitchenware, [some] books, more clothes, more shoes, the miscellaneous clutter of a home. And yet I never cease to find new things to let go. My attachment to objects ebbs and flows and sometimes I stare at an item wondering why it's taken so long for me to detach.   

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Single Girl Diamonds, July 31, 2018

I'm selling some jewelry today. Some of the items I'm parting with are randomly inherited pieces I've never been worn and with zero sentimental value. But I'm also selling two items I bought for myself; a pair of white gold and tiny channel-set diamond earrings, and a similarly styled diamond ring in yellow gold; my first diamonds. As an American girl, I have been bred to think of diamonds as significant for their connection to marriage — the kind of stone meant to be given to me by a man [or at least a great love] as a symbol of my worthiness. I've been reticent to sell these particular items because they were purchased as a gesture of self worth and independence. But I rarely wear them, my savings has run out and my willingness to let them go has finally emerged. I've taken some bittersweet photos to keep them alive in my memory.