Life is a bit of a mess right now, trust. We moved, my family is crazy, our finances have been battered and left in the gutter and I’m having trouble taking care of myself.
I have learned my lesson many times before that when shit hits the fan, I can’t shut down and let things happen to me. I need to bootstrap myself and stick to a rigid routine, tell my loved ones that I’m struggling and clock some extra hours with my therapist. Here’s what I’m doing so I don’t go off the deep end this time:
Food - To prevent binge eating or just eating half a sleeve of crackers in bed at 10:00 pm and calling it dinner, I’m starting a Whole30 today. If I don’t have to make any decisions about what to eat by making sure everything in my kitchen is healthy and prepped, I’m a happy camper.
Sleep - I have banished my iPhone, iPad and Kindle from the bedroom. I’ve been staying up until 1:00 am trying to solve my problems through Pinterest and I wake up sluggish and dull. In bed by 10 and read until I fall asleep.
Cleaning - I’m using Unfuck Your Habitat and I have literally been forcing myself to load the dishwasher and clean up the dinner mess every night. I feel like I could levitate with joy when I wake up to a clean kitchen in the morning. Our new apartment makes cleaning so much easier in that we have a dishwasher, sufficient counter and storage space and a laundry room on our floor. Hallelujah, praise be.
Little Stuff - I started putting on perfume every morning (Thierry Mugler’s Angel (I know, this stuff was at it’s peak like 15 years ago, but I want to eat it, it smells so good)). I spend a couple extra dollars to take the ferry home instead of the bus. I invest in gel manicures and Fresh soap and make the coffee in a Chemex. I figure that if I can find the joy in these tiny little things that don’t matter in the overall muddle of my day, I don’t have to focus on telling myself I’m an asshole who can’t get rid of her baby weight. I think it’s working.
June 2, 2014
Well, Sunday started off with a big helping of crazy. During the middle of the homily at Mass, an older gentleman preparing to take up the collection physically pulled me aside and told me that, as a doctor, he doesn’t like seeing my son crawl around on the floor at church. I thanked him for his concern, remembered that Jesus probably wouldn’t go nuclear in the middle of Mass, and turned the other cheek after quickly thinking a few nasty things about the doctor. I was so mad and upset that I was tempted to leave and miss communion and chatting with people in the parish I actually enjoy (and muffins), but I stayed. And I stewed a bit. I mean, there are at least seven other toddlers in various stages of crawling, scooting and walking at church every Sunday, but somehow I am the one who gets scolded by a patronizing, “well-meaning” stranger? We’re Catholic! There is a dedicated area with open pews and carpet designed expressly for parents with small children to occupy during mass. WHY DID THIS MAN FEEL THE NEED TO MANSPLAIN TO ME, AN INTELLIGENT ADULT AND PARENT, THAT HE DIDN’T LIKE TO SEE MY KID CRAWLING ON THE FLOOR. GUESS I SHOULDN’T TAKE HIM TO THE PARK, DAYCARE OR EVER LET HIM RIDE THE BUS. TO THE BUBBLE — THE DOCTOR AT CHURCH SAID SO! And seriously, he didn’t say a peep to any of the other parents, let alone take liberties with their personal space. It’s really hard to be Christlike when asshats like this force me to interact with them.
Also, I was intending to start a Whole30 on Sunday, but I was so angry, I had to eat my feelings and went to town on a bag of tortilla chips. And then the last of the ice cream before bed.
May 20, 2014
worth a fresh reblog every few months to keep it real
May 16, 2014
Where to Gumshoe?
If you were looking for a place to settle down as a young family after ten years in San Francisco, which place would you choose?
- Ann Arbor, MI
- West Chester, PA
- Montclair, NJ
- Indianapolis, IN
- Madison, WI
March 19, 2014
Une Seule Vague from Visages, Henri Matisse (1946)
via Charlton Hall Auctions
March 17, 2014
March 17, 2014
March 17, 2014
"Ancient moon priestesses were called virgins. ‘Virgin’ meant not married, not belonging to a man - a woman who was ‘one-in-herself’. The very word derives from a Latin root meaning strength, force, skill; and was later applied to men: virile. Ishtar, Diana, Astarte, Isis were all called virgin, which did not refer to sexual chastity, but sexual independence. And all great culture heroes of the past, mythic or historic, were said to be born of virgin mothers: Marduk, Gilgamesh, Buddha, Osiris, Dionysus, Genghis Khan, Jesus - they were all affirmed as sons of the Great Mother, of the Original One, their worldly power deriving from her. When the Hebrews used the word, and in the original Aramaic, it meant ‘maiden’ or ‘young woman’, with no connotations to sexual chastity. But later Christian translators could not conceive of the ‘Virgin Mary’ as a woman of independent sexuality, needless to say; they distorted the meaning into sexually pure, chaste, never touched."
— Monica Sjoo, The Great Cosmic Mother: Rediscovering the Religion of the Earth (via anya-eye)
(Source: ynannarising, via bythegods)