The responses I’ve gotten to what I wrote about Charlie Brown’s Sad Thanksgiving for Fatties have been really interesting. Whole lotta solidarity coming from the ladies re: the weight crazies. I’m so thankful that there are people who will reach out to connect about such a very personal issue. BUT. I hate that the need is even there. I hate that there are other people fighting this same fight, routinely winding themselves into knots of…
Boyfriend: [leaving the study-oasis couch stacked with books and index cards and hot-pink page tabs and legal paper to come into the office where girlfriend is on computer] I’m going to draw a pink heart on you. [takes back of girlfriend’s hand and draws small heart with highlighter] Girlfriend: Okay. [waits as boyfriend fills in the outline of the heart] Ha! [flips hand over] It looks like balls! [flips hand] Heart! [flips hand] Balls! Hahaha!…
I spent the ENTIRE day in pajamas, playing the Sims 3. I did this in solidarity with the bf, who, because he’s anticipating his first final of the semester tomorrow, spent the ENTIRE day cramming. In pajamas. He took some breaks from studying to come check on me and laugh at my virtual versions of us as we danced awkwardly, argued with strangers unprovoked, and were unable to get it on anywhere except the bed.…
Oh god, it has begun in earnest. Behold, a tree! It’s a pre-lit model, something I never ever ever thought I’d ever buy, ever. It always just seemed … blasphemous. But Big Lots was out of their unlit trees when I went, so I just went down in size half a foot and opted for the pre-lit, as it fit my budget. And now that I have seen the foolishness of my ways, I dare…
I had a bit of a meltdown yesterday right before Thanksgiving dinner. Everything had been going more or less okay; I got up and on the road to the parents’ as early as I could, since my mom had texted me the day before, telling me to hightail it early since I’d be trying to outrun bad weather. I was flying solo, as Ray had to work that afternoon. That sucked, but you gotta do…
I look at my life in slow motion sometimes, all the choices I’ve made and weird things that people have said or done to me that have fucked me up in some small way or large, a cascade of random sentences and moments and interactions and looks, an abstract timeline soaring through victory and then skidding through muddy humiliation, going nowhere in particular, nowhere predictable, nowhere comfortable, nowhere guaranteed. I just see an unwieldy, overloaded…
Yesterday I received a thanks-for-five-years-of-service award from my company. (I will have been there six years at the end of January.) I was unable to either go pick up the award or attend the ceremony because, thanks to our post-several-rounds-of-layoffs skeleton crew, I was insanely busy all night.
… that every time someone hurts me, I get to put a little karma coin in the bank, which I can cash out later to go on an emotional holiday. That makes no sense but it’s the only fucking thing that keeps me in the game sometimes.
My apologies to those of you who have seen this on the Tweet-o-sphere and the Facebooktubes already, but I’m trying to reach eyeballs. Lots and lots of eyeballs. The thing is this: I am selling holiday cards made from my photos in the Etsy shop. One features this bird print and the other features this snowy branch print (both of which are also for sale in several sizes). Fun fact about these cards: If…
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