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December Things

The tree is officially up and plugged in. And that’s it. No decorations yet. Just twinkly lights. Happy.

Our small group on Monday night talks about the lesson for the next Sunday, so my appetite for Advent has been whetted. Although Advent is one of my favorite seasons, December is not usually my favorite month. It’s usually too busy. That is not the case this year, though. Events are either canceled or virtual, and I think most people have (more than usual) an attitude of just making it through to the other side.

Students have already started leaving for break, since UNT classes are going completely online for the rest of the semester. They’re welcome to stay here, but they also have the option to go home and stay with their families for the holiday season, and many have chosen to do so. Can’t say that I blame them.

This December, I have a little more time. Rather than add extra things to it (with the exception of a blog series – more on that next week), though, I’m going to focus on savoring things I enjoy.

Cozy mysteries (just re-read Publishable by Death by A. C. F. Bookens this weekend, and it was just as much fun the second time around).

The above-mentioned twinkly lights. Just staring into them. Also candlelight is nice. More sparkly-lit rooms, please.

Soups and toasted sandwiches.

Baked goods of just about any kind. Sweet, savory – I love (most of) them all.

Dancing. Stretching. Dancing again.

Playing old records while sipping warm beverages.

Practicing hope. Practicing love. Practicing joy.

Books and mascots and dressing up for the intrawebs

That may be the most introvert-y title I’ve ever written.

In a lot of ways, this pandemic/work/socialize-from-home situation has been rough. My mental health is not its best self ever. Or, rather, it has been more work to take care of it. I don’t think prolonged isolation is good for anyone, and I’ve definitely had challenges that I expected as well as those I did not. I have needed to take many more precautions and call on more support than usual in order to function.

Other distinct pockets of my life have (dare I say it?) flourished. After the initial shock wore off (this is the theme, really), I have been able to adapt in several ways that sort of flow together but also are each their own separate issue:

  1. Reading – For a few months, I wasn’t able to concentrate to read at all. But now that I have at least an extra hour per night to add to my regular reading time that I was spending just driving from work and then to-and-from whatever meeting I had on that particular evening, I am reading about 100 pages a day. My reading goal took a hit from those missing months, but I may still read more books than I read last year.
  2. Productivity – Working from home makes me super efficient. Having more control over my work setting allows me to get through emails much more quickly, and I don’t feel rushed on phone calls. I miss my coworkers, of course, but my productivity (and thus my motivation) is thriving. We are closing one of our buildings at the end of the semester, and I was able to give significant help in getting those students moved over, and this would have been a lot harder/more stressful in the office.
  3. Sense of self – It’s been interesting to see the habits that have dropped off and stayed gone and the ones that I have either continued or picked up. I was surprised to see the things that I do, say, wear, etc., to make others more comfortable and things I do, say, wear, etc., to show up as who I really am. It will be interesting to see how (or if) I adjust back to old habits that I find stifling once I’m out in the public again most days.
  4. Consistency – Each month, I make myself a chart that has goals I want to focus on that month. It’s usually a mix of habits I want to build and the things I know I need to stay grounded and at peace. If you’ve been around here a while, you know my goals tend to be…lofty. But I’ve been meeting them better than usual. In fact, the last time I was this consistent with eating well, dancing, playing the keyboard, exercising, etc., was in my early to mid-twenties when I was performing regularly. While I’m not performing right now (well, not a lot – I do have a piece in the virtual SPIDERDEAD show tomorrow night), I am excited about how well I’ve been staying on track with things that are important to me.
  5. Creativity – All the others kinda lead in to this one. When I have the time (and the ability) to focus on what I want in life, my creativity thrives. I have so many project ideas, and I’ve been consistently writing toward my NaNoWriMo project. I also have a 31 days blog series coming up in December that I hope you will enjoy. I look forward to getting to collaborate with people again, but for now this will do.

I hope you are finding some moments of joy or clarity or focus or whatever you are needing right now.

September TBR

Part of the “currently reading” pile that isn’t strictly current

I often say that I read four or five books at a time, and that’s true. I usually have at least one fiction, one nonfiction, one audiobook, one ebook, and one book that falls into the category of “light reading” for when all the others I’m reading are too intense for my current mood (a common occurrence with me as I often choose things that lean a little heavy).

I also have a lot of books I’ve started and not finished. I eventually do finish them, but sometimes it literally takes years. So this month, I’m going to go back through my trusty Goodreads list that says I’m currently reading 40+ books (lol no) and try to finish the ones I still care about finishing and let the ones I don’t go.

The priority for my monthly reading agenda is always what I’m reading for book clubs:

The Wives by Tarryn Fisher (finished)
Dreaming the Eagle by Manda Scott
“Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?” and Other Conversations About Race by Bevery Daniel Tatum, PhD
How To Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

I usually finish book club selections, but not always. Some months are really slow reading months for me.

Several books due back at the library soon (many part of that started-but-not-quite-finished Goodreads list):

When We Left Cuba by Chanel Cleeton
The Downstairs Girl by Stacey Lee
Big Summer by Jennifer Weiner
Climbing the Mango Trees by Madhur Jaffrey

So…suffice it to say I’m not going to run out of books to choose from. 

What are you reading, or what have you read lately that you recommend?

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Coffee for two is my favorite (and most elusive) kind of coffee.

I’ve been posting snippets of a story project entitled “How To Unbreak Your Heart” on my writer page on Facebook. This has brought up thoughts about how people respond to those who are hurting. We’re not always great at it. We may say too much that’s not helpful, forcing someone who is already dealing with loneliness and the exhausting grief that comes with it to decide whether to make sure that we know our intention is appreciated while feeling utterly misunderstood or to be honest and risk being more misunderstood and rejected as a result. Or we, knowing that trying to say the right thing is such a fucking minefield, avoid it altogether and just hope everything turns out okay (you know, after they get past the extra alone feeling that comes with apparently having no one to talk to about it).

I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even have most of them. But I may have one.

When someone you care about is heartbroken, it’s natural to want to ease that for them. One way people have tried to do this for me is by telling me their own harried love stories of doing everything wrong and still getting the relationship, or stories of people who found love despite the odds against them. I’m certain it was meant to help me understand that such things are also possible for me.

It did not do this. Not in that particular moment.

You see, once upon a time, I loved a boy. He liked me just fine and for a moment thought maybe I was a possibility but chose someone else instead. I was dealing with it and would be doing okay(ish), but then I would see one of his posts about how happy she made him, and then I’d have a fresh wound to tend to. As someone who loved him, I loved seeing him happy. As someone who loved me, I hated that it was with someone else.

I felt really bad about feeling that way for a long time. I felt like a bad friend because I couldn’t just get over it. I felt like a failure when I followed friends’ advice to stop following him on social media – to stop seeing all his posts about how happy he was with someone else – in order to heal. I felt like more of a failure when doing so didn’t help me heal any faster. We lost touch, and I still regret the role I played in that. I still miss the great friendship we could have had.

Anyway, when I hear these stories, especially when I’m deep in the throes of loneliness, that’s what comes up for me. I imagine similar memories surface for other people who have been rejected a lot, too.

Does that mean I don’t want to hear about my friends’ happiness? Of course not. I love it when they share the great things going on in their lives, and I especially love seeing people who have experienced romantic deserts similar to my own finally find someone they adore who has the good sense to adore them, too. I’m thrilled for them. I even seek these stories out if I have just gotten back from a boring date or ended the fifth lackluster, going-nowhere online flirtation of the month as a reminder that trying to meet someone doesn’t always end up being a complete waste of time. And you better believe I’ll be posting some stories of my own should such a miraculous happenstance ever occur for me.

No matter how happy I am for friends who fall in love, though, these stories bring up other feelings, too. I can’t help but wonder how many broken hearts or dashed hopes their blissful union left in its wake. I’ll likely wonder the same even if in the future I post such things. People don’t always tell you when you hurt them, and it’s not the happy couple’s fault or something they could have even avoided, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. The pain still exists, and bombarding someone who confesses that they are having a rough time of it with stories of other people who got the love that they, too, deserve, is not an encouragement. It’s a cruelty.

I know it’s hard to know how to respond to this particular type of grief. There are so many ways to get it wrong and seemingly few ways to get it right. As a person with a lot of experience playing the role of the not-chosen in these scenarios, I have some tips to minimize the likelihood of messing it up.

Pay attention. Listen to what they say and acknowledge their feelings. Pain is uncomfortable, but my best, most trusted friends are the ones who accept my pain as valid without trying to minimize it or cheer me up. My friends can sit in some pain. It’s really quite extraordinary and really shows me how much they not only love me but respect me. Because on top of the pain, your friend may feel embarrassed or foolish about the situation and thus may think they don’t have a right to feel the way they do. But their pain isn’t wrong, and affirming that can be so helpful. When hurtful things happen, it’s reasonable and healthy to feel hurt. What’s not reasonable or healthy is trying to convince them they shouldn’t.

Stop with the advice. Just stop. First, your friend probably already has an ongoing feed in their head of “If I’d just done or said this, maybe things would have turned out differently.” None of those things are actually true (i.e., when someone loves you, it takes a lot to kill that love, and when they don’t, it’s not something they can be talked into), and the last thing they need at that moment is a parrot of their asshole inner critic. If you truly think you have some insight that you really must share, jot it down and tuck it away for later when they can receive it and thus actually benefit from it. The midst of their pain is not the time or place.

Second, I don’t care how smart you are – you can’t fix it.

Let me repeat.

You. Cannot. Fix. It.

The problem at hand is that they wanted and hoped to be with someone who chose not to be with them. Unless you are in the unique position of not only being that someone but also having the capacity and will to love and choose them back, there’s not a damn thing you can do to resolve the problem. So quit acting like you can. The only thing your attempts to do so are likely to accomplish when they’re already feeling raw and vulnerable is to reinforce their suspicions that there’s something so wrong with them that they have to fix it in order to be lovable.

Encourage them to trust what they need to do next. This is so hard, especially when you think you know better. Odds are that you don’t, though. Different people heal differently. You may need to bounce back from rejection by trying something (or someone) new, but they may need to embrace the wallow for a bit. Some people need to cut all ties because when their hopes for a relationship die, trying to settle for anything less seems unbearable. Some people need to keep in touch, because the thought of losing the person they love not only as a partner but also as a friend seems unbearable. Don’t tell them to do something just because it’s what works for you.

This was long and rambly but it helped me a little to write it out. Hope there’s something here that can help you, too.

My Current Food Hacks

Everything is fine

Yep. I feel that. I miss you, sunny, happy mug of yore.

This is the third time I’ve started this post. The laptop I’m using has that annoying button between the G, H, and B. I’m sure there’s some noble reason it’s there, like some accessibility purpose, but it is the BANE OF MY EXISTENCE. Twice I have typed out this post. Twice, a subtle breeze from my finger has blown over said button as I was typing in its vicinity, which was clearly its cue to erase everything immediately. And WordPress helpfully saves the very last draft…which was nothing. *sigh* So now I’m typing in Word, where I can save properly on my own terms, and we’ll see how it goes. Third time’s the charm? Who really knows if you’ll ever read this.

This experience perfectly sums up my life right now. It’s nice that I’m able to type to you on an actual keyboard in the comfort of my home office. I’ll be musing over that fondly, and then suddenly…blank page like I didn’t do anything at all and have to either quit or start all over.

[Sometimes I quit. It’s okay. You can quit some things sometimes.]

I figure I’m feeling this way because *gestures broadly* but also because I’ve been making some positive changes, and some of the habits I already had established don’t know what to do with that. For example, I’m usually pretty up for cooking any given night. But lately, on a lot of nights, it’s cereal and probably also ice cream while bingeing Revenge (I’m on the Justin-Hartley-shirtless-punching-a-speedbag episode. 10/10, highly recommend, and you’re welcome), and I may eat the cereal dry out of the box because bowls are too much work and they refuse to clean themselves (rude).

So here are some food hacks that I’ve found helpful in keeping me from eating four boxes of cereal a week (problematic because you know I do not buy the sensible, healthy kind) and maybe you will find them helpful, too.

  1. Big batch meals. Specifically, I’m really into pasta skillets these days. My favorite is a cheeseburger skillet that I base loosely on this Budget Bytes recipe (you can sub black beans if you don’t have/eat meat, but add garlic and a little chili powder if you do. You know what? Add garlic and chili powder anyway. Garlic and chili powder and whatever other spices you use on your homemade hamburgers are delicious.) You can turn anything into a one-pot skillet meal. Tacos. Pizza. Egg rolls. Options abound. And it makes a lot that you can tuck away in your fridge (or freezer) in serving-size, microwaveable containers for nights when you would rather snack on a handful of gravel than cook something for real.
  2. Soups. Normally, I don’t feel the urge for soup unless temps are at least down to the 60s outside. But this is 2020. Up is down. Dr. Pepper is scarce in Texas. I eat soup in summer. My current favorite is the red lentil soup from Marsha Mehran’s Pomegranate Soup. Lots of onions, red lentils, garlic, turmeric, cumin, nigella seeds (I didn’t have any but subbed by going a little heavy on the cumin and adding some freshly ground black pepper, and that was fine), broth. Let it simmer for a half hour while you crisp up even more onions (like…crisp, crisp. Crunchy crisp) to use as a garnish. Simple and also amazing. And it makes a ton. I suppose that makes soup another example of a big batch meal and thus better suited for the first category, but this is not the time to point that out, reader. We’ve gone too far to go back now. It’s done. The point is written. Let’s move on.
  3. Enchiladas. My very favorite way to make enchiladas is to pretend I have a family to feed and order a big pan of them to pick up curbside at Milpa, which I can then graze on for days. As an added bonus, I grab a couple of their specialty frozen margaritas – one for me, one for my imaginary partner who graciously insists I drink them both. But if I’m at home and not wanting to leave but also not wanting to prep and then roll a pan of enchiladas, I use a hack I learned from my friend Michelle (*waves*). Frozen taquitos, enchilada sauce, and cheese. My favorite combo is currently the chicken taquitos, tomatillo salsa, and an abrasively sharp white cheddar. Layer it in a pan and bake it. That’s it. If I’m feeling some extra don’t-wannas, I just throw a few frozen taquitos on a plate and cover them in sauce and cheese and microwave it. Takes two minutes. Little soggy if you get too liberal with the sauce, but a margarita made with frozen limeade (or your juice of choice) and a healthy pour of tequila and triple sec will make you not care about that at all.

There are other ideas, but I feel like I’ve given you sufficient insight into my current state. Feel free to drop more food hacks in the comments. Or recommend your favorite cereal combos (because you mix them up, right? DO IT.). Or a cocktail you think I should try (note: if “muddle” or some similar high-maintenance nonsense is in the instructions, I’m gonna go ahead and look forward to trying that for the first time at your house in the future. Thanks in advance for the invitation.).

Check In

_I don't know what to say to that._ _That's the most honest you've ever been._

A little bit of my microfiction project

It’s been a minute since I’ve checked in, so I wanted to say hi.

Hi. How are you? What are you up to these days? What are you learning? Where are you finding beauty? Or peace? Or – dare I hope it – joy?

A small recap of my days:

  1. Coffee. One cup of strong coffee that I gulp down on my way to work, as my current work environment is not conducive to nursing it lovingly throughout the morning.
  2. Go to work. Yes, at the office. Wearing masks all day because we’re in public. “But Suzanne,” you wonder. “Can’t you do 100% of your job from home?” Yes. Yes, I can. But apparently there are a lot of hoops to jump through when you are required to go through HR to get permission. In related news, I need to make an appointment with my new doctor. Hope they can fit me in before September.
  3. Dinner and down time. I’ve been trying to rebudget to support local businesses more. Ergo, I’ve been eating a lot of simpler things so that I can splurge more often. I really enjoy it. This week, I’m eating chili pasta, salads, and breakfast for dinner. I’ve been rewatching Revenge, Scandal, Leverage, and Bones recently, so I usually watch one of these shows each night.
  4. Meetings. Most nights I still have some meeting, even though they’re online. This week, it’s text study, a couple of book clubs, and church council. Looking forward to a workshop with Spiderweb Salon on Sunday afternoon.
  5. Writing. My second job is a writing job, so I spend a few hours every evening (at least Monday-Thursday) doing that. At least once a week, I have a light load of assignments so that I can make time for some creative writing. I have the focus of a puppy right now, particularly by that time of the day, so I’m working on my microfiction project (see example above).
  6. Reading. I am reading more slowly these days, so I am focusing on what we’re talking about in book clubs before I delve into other things. I just finished Where’d You Go, Bernadette? for book club this week, and I liked it even more than I liked the movie. I listened to the audio version, though, and I do not recommend it if you have hearing-related sensory issues. There was background music throughout it and sometimes it was hard for me to hear the reader over the music. I’m reading White Fragility with another group and The Speed of Trust with a group from work, and I am really enjoying those discussions. Our church group is talking about A Better Man this month, and I am always happy to re-read Louise Penny. This is a choose-your-own-adventure month in Spiderweb’s Follow the Reader, and I love foodie memoirs, so I’m reading From Scratch by Tembi Locke and now I need to go to Italy even more than I already did. Someday.
  7. Bed. I’ve been rocking my skincare routine lately. I think the ritual is comforting. Bedtime consists of a full bottle of water on the nightstand and a good sleep playlist.
  8. Weekends are nice. I’m getting used to having weekends mostly free again. I forgot what that was like. In a word? Glorious. Remind me of this in the future when we all get busy again and I forget how much I need easy weekends.

Loneliness? Check.

Restlessness? Check.

Rapidly veering more steadily toward chaos and anarchy? Check.

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Some spinsters have cats; I have books in cute nooks.

“What a great thing, to be loved. What a greater thing still, to love! The heart becomes heroic through passion…if no one loved, the sun would go out.” – Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

THE WHOLE DAMN SUN WOULD GO OUT. So dramatic, and yet feels so accurate.

Disclaimer: This post may get wallowy. If inspiration is what you need right now, consider passing it by. Take care of you.

I know the world is a rabid hyena frolicking in a trash heap right now. I feel selfish for even noticing the comparably small things going on with me. But not dealing with them doesn’t make them go away; it just makes them mad at being ignored and keeps me from focusing or getting anything else done. So fine, here’s your attention, you nagging asshats (feelings).

The loneliness is so strong this month. It’s like a whole other person by itself. And it’s hard to talk about because, while people who know me and what might help can just express sympathy, there’s occasionally a well-meaning person who is only trying to be helpful who comes across with “You’ll find someone,” or “I know there’s someone for you” or “of course it’s going to happen someday” or “I’ll be praying for you” or some other drivel meant to be encouraging that’s just not. So I try to bottle it up and that makes it worse so I need to talk about it and I’m between therapists so here we are.

Hi.

There is no evidence that everyone gets to find love. I know this. I know it’s an unreasonable expectation. A lot of amazing people who deserve to be loved and chosen never get to be. And I think that if I can just accept that I’m probably one of those people – that this is just how life is going to be always – I could maybe get unstuck a little.

I just…really hate the idea that that’s probably true. Like…physically, violently, hopelessly hate. it.

And this is also not me fishing for compliments. My social issues are anxiety-based, not esteem-based. I experience self-doubt just like everyone else, but overall? I have self-esteem to spare. Like, for three other people, at least. I sometimes have to pause after someone gives me a compliment not because I don’t believe it but because it takes me a moment to remember that the appropriate response is “Thank you” and not “I know.”

Of course, I have a long list of things I’m working on – I love learning and growing – but I also think I’m pretty amazing already. And if my friendships and past relationships are any indication, I’d be an amazing partner. I get a good dose of the benefit of living with me every single day. And I’m always alone, so I’ve had PLENTY of time to truly bask in my amazingness.

The vital characteristic I seem to be missing, though, is that one where you fall in love with someone and they fall in love with you, too. Don’t know how that works, really. Everyone I’ve loved, even if they considered it for a little while and gave it a shot, soon found someone else they’d rather be with. My most successful achievement thus far in a romantic relationship has been placeholder. That’s another thing I’m amazing at. Apparently.

An obvious solution is just to add “loves me madly” to my list of things I’m drawn to in a partner. I mean, it’s now on my list of things I require to agree to actually be in an exclusive relationship with someone, because it’s only fun if it’s mutual. Which is why there’s currently no relationship to speak of. But drawn-to doesn’t always wait around on choose-to. Those are different animals.

I don’t know – can other people control who they fall in love with? I don’t know how to do that. The list of adjectives I’m drawn to – kind, thoughtful, loyal, smart, funny, passionate, creative, interesting, etc. – is a result of observing the common characteristics of people I’ve loved. It’s not like I sit down with a checklist and make sure they match up to it and THEN allow myself to feel things. Feelings have a mind of their own, and once mine show up, they move in and bring their grandma’s furniture with them because they know they’re gonna sit for a spell. They are hard to get rid of. They’re the rude party guest who doesn’t get the hint that it’s time to go even after I’ve turned out all the lights and opened the door to make it super easy for them to walk out.

I suspect other people cannot control this either. How else do you explain the motley collection of humans who have expressed having feelings for me? They don’t fit my list at all. They’re drawn to the things in me that I am actively trying to correct or change for the better. They’re either dull, or complacent, or mean, or aggressively conservative (this is the most baffling. Have we even met? How in the world could a person with their priorities even be drawn to, much less want to partner with, the person I am or the person I am becoming?).

I’m not asking for answers or a solution or sympathy. Just needed to get it out of my head a little. Let’s see if I can find a tidy ending. Um…I guess if you’re feeling the same way…you’re not alone?

Except…you are. We both are. Maybe forever. Sorry, friend. I know. It really sucks. *hugs*

Welp. So much for tidy.

Things Worth Doing

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My first small, imperfect peaches of the season. 

My word for the year is “alive.” The universe is hilarious.

I had a few thoughts about how this would go. There were a lot of lofty quotes that came to mind and many goals I made that I thought would contribute to a more vibrant existence. I had no idea how often I would have to fight to actively choose living over becoming stagnant or something else.

Today I read Joy the Baker’s post on turning 39, and so much of it resonated with me. I can list the accomplishments I’m proud of and many things I do well, but most days I can’t help but feel that I, too, have been left behind – that I missed a turn somewhere that would have taken me down the path toward those Big Life Goals™ that I just assumed would come along as soon I was ready for them. I also love her curiosity and her intention to set aside the small life story in exchange for embracing the things that sparkle – to “do them badly, then less badly, then maybe almost well.”

When our church decided to start meeting remotely, we didn’t hesitate or put it off a few weeks to figure it out. Our pastor told council, “Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly.” He didn’t mean, of course, that doing a bad job at online services should be the goal. Only that it needn’t wait until we had all the information to do it expertly.

As you can imagine, this is not my modus operandi. I am all for jumping off the cliff (metaphorically); I just want to be armed with a gigantic parachute of relevant knowledge before I do.

But I started the year with a commitment to come alive, so whether I know what I’m doing or not, here I am, doing it badly but consistently. This looks like a lot of different things:

To bake and eat the cake that I’ve been craving for a month rather than just think about making it.

To dance, enjoying the way my body – this body, the one I have right now – feels when it moves.

To choose to spend money in a way that actually makes a difference in my life and the lives of others rather than contributing to the greed of entities that exist to homogenize us.

To play Chopin. And also Joplin. And also brand new things that no one but me has ever heard.

To sing, even when there’s no one to carry the harmony.

To eat my veggies and stay hydrated.

To seek out the people who love me well and stop worrying about those who don’t.

To discover how much time I have when I cut out all the things that don’t really matter.

To discover exactly which things do matter so, so much.

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My desk in my home office has become the place where I both work and play. Not at the same time, of course.

I’m eight days away from being home for two months. I have enjoyed parts of it. Other parts of it? Not so much. But I have made some changes.

  1. Becoming infinitely pickier about the people I take advice from. This pandemic has rekindled an old inclination that I had almost forgotten. I am all for free speech. But while everyone may have a right to their opinion, as easy as credible sources are to come by, there’s really few legitimate excuses for not using them, and failure to do so will likely earn my disdain. Therefore, not everyone’s opinion matters to me. If someone really wants me to hear them out, I will probably listen. But they have to earn my trust and belief, two things I no longer give out easily.
  2. Spending less time on Facebook. My Instagram feed is pretty well-curated to include only things I enjoy and people I love and want to keep up with. My Facebook feed is a hot mess. It only takes a couple of swipes to run into some sort of foolishness I absolutely cannot abide. Yes, I could unfriend them or snooze them, or I could engage with the posts by posting my opposing opinion civilly. But is that really a productive use of my time? I don’t think it is. I am keeping Facebook for my groups, the pages I run, happy birthday messages, and maybe a couple of quick feed perusals a day, just to see if there’s anything worthwhile in those first few seconds before I hit a wall of dumb. So if you’re seeing fewer likes from me than usual, don’t fret. It’s probably not you. It’s probably all those other assholes.
  3. Cursing more. Arbitrary language etiquette is ridiculous, and I just don’t fucking care anymore. You’re welcome. [I’ll try to hold back if there are children afoot. But that’s it.] [I reserve the right to look back on this in the future as a phase. Language choice is important. I do believe that in general. But currently? See note above re: I don’t fucking care.]
  4. Supporting local businesses more. When given the choice, I already tend to favor local businesses over chains. They make Denton what I want it to be, and I am a big fan of voting with my dollar. I’ve gone a bit into overdrive lately, though. Every Sunday (and beyond – I actually have plans for the next three weeks already), I list at least three businesses I want to remember to support that week. Monday and Friday nights are designated as potential takeout nights. The majority of my groceries have been purchased from local farms or businesses that are offering curbside or delivery as one of their temporary services (although I would be fully on board with this becoming a forever thing. It’s fantastic. Note to self: find a great co-op to support.). Both wine and fancy cheese are being delivered to my doorstep on a regular basis. This summer, I want to add more greenery with houseplants and maybe tomatoes from local stores and nurseries. If you’re local and you need a suggestion for something, I probably have one.
  5. Taking better care of myself. When I started doing my temporary work-from-home thing, I was like, “Hey, I’ll go walking more.” I have not gone walking more. Walking alone is dull, and Texas is hot. Instead, I have been keeping active with some modified (because my floors are hard and my knees are old) Pilates classes, living room dance parties for one, and a strengthening challenge (although that, too, quickly exceeded my ability to keep up with it. With one exception. Two-minute plank? I got you. It took a year and a half of regular Pilates practice, but I got you.). And because I’ve been intentionally focusing my financial support on local places, I have had no fast food in two months and have been cooking more (because omg so many vegetables in a farm box). I have been dealing with my regular stomach problems and allergies and anxiety (and some days are worse than others. Looking at you, today. You jerk.), but other than that, I feel amazing.

Have you made (intentionally or not) any changes recently?

 

Wanting

Take your courage and go.

Round up all the things you hide behind.

You can stash them under the couch and forget where you put them.

The explanation. The exposition. The justification.

The smoothed edge. The softened thought.

None of these things are necessary here.

You are simply wanted, naked of everything you’ve ever been told you had to wear to be desirable.

I want you.

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