Dear Blog Family
My birthday was epic! It went on for a record period of time and there were lots of things that happened during it.
Nearly four years into blahg-ville, I can’t possibly be dishonest about what went down over the past 48-hours. On the actual day of my birthday, I woke up in the morning and sobbed into my journal. I sobbed over a few Christmas pasts and I also spent five to ten minutes boo-hooing over the present state of general humanity.
Then my best friend in Colorado phoned me and sang the most wonderful happy birthday song into my voicemail, which I naturally had to listen to twice. Shortly after, her brother phoned me to say that we were going to a club on Bowery for free bottle service. Then he picked me up in a droptop… super fun birthday drive!
Later that evening, in an SUV rental, myself with three sexy ladies and my boy cruised back to Manhattan. At some stage I was drinking champagne out of the bottle, and we played this song dancing in the car: Continue reading
My first husband was/is a dick to me. I’m not saying he’s a dick all around, on the contrary – he is incredibly engaging, dare I say charming? Add the Australian accent, crystal blue eyes and sandy locks – you’ve got a tall glass of water indeed.
But like I said, to me. He was/is a dick to me.
One of the dickiest things he ever did was tell me that I would never get published. This was back in 2005. When someone you trust rips your heart out like that, waves it in your face bleeding and everything, you sort of notice. I remember what he was wearing when he said it. I remember sitting on the deck outside thinking that I had inadvertently married someone blindly unaware of how language impacts my life. And how you can never take words back.
He told me this back when I was making 40K a year answering phones because, having up-moved my whole life from NYC straight out of school, and losing working rights for 18 months, it was kind of hard to pick up from where I left off once I got to Oz.
Not that where I left off was all too crash hot. Continue reading
Approaching the end of week one of my holiday, I understand why I need at least two weeks off for a segment of life to legitimately be considered “time off”.
Leave me in the forest for an adequate amount of time… and new words take shape…
Namaste blog tribe
It’s been a hot minute… I’ve been hiding out. I’m actually at the tail-end of yet another hideous break-up. I don’t think relationships ever end well. I cringe when people say, “We aren’t together anymore, but we’re still really close.”
No you aren’t.
If you were once with someone, really with them – you know – in that, “The sun can’t set until I kiss you,” sort of way; it doesn’t end well. Friendships aren’t allowed.
Some people think this is an immature approach. I, on the other hand, think holding onto a has-been relationship just because you shagged someone is immature. Let it go. Move on.
And that is what I continue to do.
My two week holiday of nothing-ness is officially in full effect and I could not be more pleased. There will be short stories on the way – perhaps a poem or two. Considering that I literally have entire days to focus on things like this web-world I’ve built and that book I’m still scribbling, I’m looking forward to a productive time.
Man, you know you’re getting up there when you want your vacation to be “productive”. Did I really just say that? Continue reading
Namaste blog tribe
Today is my last day of the first holiday I’ve had in nearly two years. It’s also my lover’s birthday.
I can’t lie, I worked a bit this week… remotely. I am perpetually baffled by humans still attending offices for means other than meeting attendance in 2013.
My holiday concludes with an evening outing in store. Prior to this I have to do boring things like pay rent and wash my hair.
It also concludes with Mumford and Sons… and many novel chapters whooped into shape and form.
Stars hide your fires
These here are my desires
And I will give them up to you this time around
And so I’ll be found
With my stake stuck in this ground
Marking the territory of this newly impassioned soul